The house didn’t quiet down until past three in the morning. Lily sat in the spare bedroom until Jason fell asleep. She left a light on, the door open, tiptoed into his bedroom with zombie eyes. His were just as blurry.
“How often does that happen?” she asked. “And what happens to Jason after this?”
He gave her the rundown. He called, told people where Jason was, so there’d be no question. The sheriff would roust Jason’s father, coop him up for a few days. It was like a lot of life’s problems: everyone knew what should happen, but it wasn’t that simple to make “right things” happen in an imperfect world.
“I’ve gotten Jason out of the house, into foster care before-but so far, he’s always found a way to steal back home. He doesn’t want to leave his mom and younger brother. So he goes back. The mom’ll get counseling. The dad’ll get counseling and jail hours. The dad’ll be real, real sorry. And it’ll happen again. Until Jason’s mom leaves the creep. That’s the real answer. But so far she’s not willing to do it.”
“And how did you get involved?”
“Beats me. I’m just trying to sit around and sell a little ice cream.”
“Griff.”
“What?”
“It’s a little late to sell me the lazy bad-boy persona.”
He shut his eyes. “He wants me to take him in. But that’s not an answer, you know? I know Jason thinks it is. Steve. A couple other kids. But what they really need is more complicated than that. They need a legal system that works for them, that they know how to use. They need to develop enough insight to analyze who to trust, who not to trust. They need to see and believe that good people will stand up for them. They need to believe that life can work, that things can be better, that there are other choices and how to get to them.” He yawned.
“You didn’t need this on top of the arson problem, did you?” she murmured, and then, “What is this? We’re talking like kids on a sleepover. It’s the middle of the night.”
“Well, quit talking then, sugar.”
“You first.”
“I can’t go to sleep if you’re going to spoon against me like that.”
“Oh, yeah you can,” she whispered again, and the damn woman-and really, Lily could be mighty annoying sometimes-was right.
That was the last thing he remembered until daylight.
When Lily awoke, she was burrowed into Griff’s shoulder like a squirrel in wintertime. The room was snuggle- cool, all the shades drawn, Griff’s warmth the perfect way to open her eyes.
Until she did open her eyes, and unfortunately remembered her life.
She was in a strange bed, wearing nothing at all, in the middle of a town of people who seemed to think she was an arsonist, where trying to clear her father’s name had caused unexplained trouble for everyone. On top of which, she was in love with a man she had as much in common with as peanut butter and anchovies.
It was enough to wake up a girl fast.
She sneaked out of bed, tiptoed around to find toothpaste and steal his deodorant, then pulled yesterday’s clothes out of the dryer and went in search of a coffeemaker. Griff needed all the sleep he could get, she figured- since being around her seemed to have shortened everyone’s sleep in the whole town. Including her own.
She peeked in on Jason, who was also sleeping like the dead, curled up in a fetal position, the light still on, looking very much like a normal, innocent ten-year old…except for the swollen red-and-black eye. Her heart clenched. It wasn’t
She aimed for his kitchen, prowled around. The boys were going to probably want eggs and a serious breakfast, so she located where various pots and pans and supplies were, then started up his German coffee machine.
While coffee brewed, she dug in her purse for her cell phone, switched it on. Voicemail indicated almost a dozen calls-six of them from Cate. Her oldest sister had probably worked herself into an ulcer by now.
Lily waited until she had the first mug poured, then carried it through the living room, opened a glass door and sank in a chair on the patio. The morning was already lushly warm, but a breeze whisked through the air. More to the point, the boys wouldn’t likely hear raised voices from outside, and Cate, even from a thousand miles away, was likely mad enough to rival a symphony in volume. She took a long pull on the coffee, hit redial, and waited for the blast.
“You don’t put yourself in dangerous situations, you dimwit. Do you hear me? The three of us-we’re not losing each other. Period. If you’re in trouble, we’re all in trouble, and now we’ve got a couple of husbands to add to the protection force. You don’t just…”
Yada yada. Lily finished the first cup, went back for a second before she got a word in edgewise, and finally slipped in an “I totally love you, Cate.” Usually that stopped Cate dead in her tracks, no matter how wild a rant she was on.
And that worked for a while. She filled Cate in on the newspaper records, the teenage girl likely responsible for three of the old arson fires, how or if they could possibly be linked to their parents’ fire-and the current arson incidents.
Cate interrupted to ask, “So that teenage girl, she’d be between thirty-five and forty now?”
“Add twenty years to back then. Yes.”
But neither of them could seem to conclude more than that. It had been a long time since Lily had been able to coax Cate-or Sophie-to talk about the fire. All three knew what that fire had cost them-fear of loss, grief that never went away, the loss of home and life and everything they knew. None of the three had ever felt safe again.
It was always there, the knowledge that fate could suddenly step in and rip out everything from beneath you.
Lily said, “My plan today is to hit the social service office. I don’t know if the social worker is still there who had our case, but it’s really bugged me. Why were the three of us separated? Doesn’t have anything to do with the fire, I guess-but I want to know how it was decided that we sisters should be split up.”
“Good,” Cate said thoughtfully. “And then…did you happen to look up the old high school yearbooks?”
Lily frowned, looked into her empty cup, and ambled back to the kitchen with the cell still glued to her ear. “Why?”
“You pinned down a reason for fires. Something we never had before. A girl who was jilted or hurt. The year of the fire-and maybe the year before? So, if she was a teenager, maybe her picture will be in the high school yearbook.”
“I can’t imagine that I could conceivably recognize anyone.”
“Probably not.” Cate sighed. “It’s just grasping at straws. But even if the faces mean nothing to you, maybe a name will ring a bell. Or something could be familiar.”
“Okay. No harm in trying.” She heard a door open, saw Griff emerge from the hall, his hair sleep-tousled, his chin beard-bristly. Barefoot, wearing nothing but cutoffs, she thought he looked downright edible.
“Then get out, Lily. I mean it. I admit, I’m glad you went there. Sophie is, too. You uncovered a bunch of things that we never expected to know, and we all wanted that. But no ‘closure’ malarkey is worth your being in danger. Cross your
“Hmm.” She watched Griff pause in Jason’s doorway, peer in, and then make a beeline straight for her. Didn’t look right or left, didn’t notice the day or the darkening sky or the mess in his kitchen. He pounced. Pressed a kiss tight to the top of her head. Then zoned for the coffee machine.
“Lily, are you listening?”
“Yes.”
“You’re at his house, aren’t you.”
“Yes.”
“Stop saying ‘yes’ or I’m flying there as fast as I can buy ticket. How far has it gone?”
“As far as anything in my life,” Lily said simply. She hung up. Not intentionally. She saw Griff had filled his mug and had already put it down, was aiming for her again. Without thinking about it, she put down the phone-just in time to lift both her arms. Griff slid right between them, and hooked her into a good-morning kiss. A serious good- morning kiss this time. A life-altering good-morning kiss.
