Sometimes it had a whiff of the supernatural, the way Matt knew things—felt things. Like when her father died. She’d gotten the call at the office, and just few minutes later, while she was still staring dumbfounded at her phone, Matt had appeared out of the blue with a bag from the Marathon Grill. “It feels like a soup kind of day,” he’d said before seeing her face and the terrible news written there. He’d taken charge immediately, allowing Mary Ellen to float apart into a million useless pieces while he met with the coroner, and the police, and the funeral home, and all the rest. And when it was over, he’d done exactly what she wanted, without being asked. He’d never spoken about her father or his tragic, lonesome death again.
And now…this inability to understand the changes she was going through. His confusion hurt, because it seemed to say he’d lost interest. But wasn’t that to be expected after so many years of familiarity? Hadn’t they just lost the habit of exploring each other’s dark, mysterious corners?
She dressed quickly, gathered her things, and went out to the car, moving quietly so as not to wake Rose. The gray sky, which she could just glimpse through the treetops, seemed to be hanging lower than usual, pressing down on the world. She got in the car and turned the key, and it lunged forward violently before stalling. She stared dumbly at all the red lights on the dashboard. It was strange; she never parked it in gear. But then, she hadn’t really been herself since coming down that snowy driveway. Mary Ellen put the car in neutral, shaking her head, then restarted it and climbed up the hill to the road.
Justine had told her Agloe was just a few miles down the road; cell service started about halfway there. Sure enough, Mary Ellen’s phone started purring with texts as she descended the mountain. She rolled into town and pulled into the Price Chopper parking lot, where she glanced through her messages, then dialed Matt’s number.
“Matt, it’s me. Were you asleep?”
“No, yeah, but it’s okay.”
“I figured you’d be up by now. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he said. She could hear him pushing himself into a seated position against the pillows. “Everything okay?”
She imagined him peeling off his anti-snoring nose strip and rubbing the skin underneath with his thumb and forefinger. “Everything’s great,” she said. “Sorry I haven’t called until now.”
“That’s all right,” he muttered.
“The house is really nice. It’s very Justine, you know? Really modern and minimal, in a very expensive way. You’d probably hate it.” She paused, fiddling with the gearshift. This was the point, of course, when a normal wife would tell her husband about the runaway she’d found hiding in the house. But it was all too hard to explain, and she knew Matt would insist on calling the police. She didn’t feel like going into the playwriting, the funeral home, the aunt in Pittsburgh. Nor did she want him calling Justine. “There’s a deer that always comes in the morning, right outside my bedroom window. When I wake up it’s always there, just a few feet from the bed. It’s so strange.”
“Huh.”
“Anyway,” she said, “it’s nice and quiet. No distractions. I’m taking a lot of pictures. In fact, I think I made a real breakthrough yesterday. I shot some great stuff.”
Matt made a sinus-clearing noise.
“Have you talked to the girls?” she asked.
“I sure have. About that—”
“Are they having a good trip?”
“It’s over, Mary.”
“What?” Her head buzzed with alarm.
“They got sent home.”
“Wait, what? I don’t—”
Matt sighed heavily. “They got caught buying beer. They had fake IDs.”
“Sydney and Shelby? Fake IDs?” Mary Ellen put a hand over her mouth, noticing, in spite of her shock, that her glove still smelled like butternut squash soup. “That can’t be. No. It must’ve been someone else.”
“Look, Mary, it happened, and I can tell you that because I’m here, dealing with it.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I had no way of knowing—”
“They took all the blame. Nobody else was sent home, even though Syd and Shel were buying for the whole team. Everyone chipped in and sent them to the store, and they’re the ones who got sent home.”
“Well, Matt, they shouldn’t have done it. I mean, come on—”
“Mary, it’s what you do. They’re teenagers on a ski trip. Christ.”
“Don’t make excuses for them, Matt! They knew they were breaking the law. But you make it confusing for them, because you let them get away with this stuff, like it’s okay, and it’s not. And now look.”
“You’re blaming me. You’re not even here.”
“You’re just so easy on them, Matt. You let them get away with so much. And then when I try to stop it, they say, ‘Yeah, but Dad lets us.’ And now, oh my God.”
“You’re acting like I went out and got them fake IDs.”
“Well, did you?”
“Jesus Christ, Mary.”
“You’re the one who wanted to buy beer for the lacrosse team.”
“Yeah, so they’d drink in our house, while we were home. Instead, they went to Dani Morrison’s house, and I can guarantee her parents weren’t there.”
“What? When was this?” Mary Ellen pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Never mind. Are you coming home?”
Mary Ellen opened her mouth, then closed it. She couldn’t leave now, when things were beginning to go so well. She’d finally taken some pictures; she was just getting started. And Rose—what about her? “I just don’t see what good that would do.”
“What do you mean?”
Mary Ellen looked at the ceiling of the car. Well, of course they were her daughters. But the damage was done; they’d already been sent home. The whole situation was entirely Matt’s doing, and he could perfectly well deal with the aftermath. “I just mean there’s nothing I can do at this point.”
“You could come here and talk to them about what happened. You know… Be their
