He laughed and kissed the top of her head. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you say the F word. They must be horrible. Are you all right? Safe?”

She nodded. “Yeah. For the first time in years I’m safe and things are hopeful and normal and happy. It’s a blessing being here. My kid might just make it into adulthood without having to go to therapy four times a week.”

“Wow, your shoulders must be so strong for you to take all that weight.”

“You don’t know me, Brody. You don’t know what I’ve done.” She stood and pulled at the hand he’d been holding until he let go. “You don’t. Don’t think I’m noble. I’m not noble.” She was a fraud.

“Wait. Don’t go away mad.” He stood, and she put a hand out to hold him off. “Whatever it is, baby, it can’t be as bad as you think.”

“You don’t know.”

“So tell me. Tell me and let me help you.” He stood and she stepped back.

“I have to go. I’ll see you soon.” Damn it, she couldn’t keep the sob from her voice, and he took a step toward her. She was down on the sidewalk, moving quickly. She would fall apart if he tried to comfort her just then.

“Please don’t go now. You’re hurting, I hate that. Let me help you.”

“Please. I can’t. I can’t.” She turned and ran back to her house and stood in her front hall, shaking, trying to get herself back together before her parents or Rennie saw her.

No one knew what she was capable of. Ken did, but he was dead and she wasn’t sorry. She wasn’t sorry and she knew she should be. What sort of person wasn’t sorry that she’d killed someone?

12

“I’ll pick Rennie up from school today. She and I have some shopping to do.” Elise’s mother had not only made do with her new life in Seattle, she appeared to be thriving. In the weeks following Thanksgiving, she and Paul had found a house, sold their old place and planned to move in over the Christmas holidays after the deal on the new house closed.

Rennie was thrilled to have her grandparents around once again, and the night before they’d all attended Rennie’s first-grade winter musical at school, where Martine had accompanied the children on the piano.

Things were very good.

Elise’s only niggling worry was the distance that had developed between her and Brody. Maybe she was imagining it, but she hadn’t seen much of him since that night on his porch. First there was Thanksgiving, where they’d both been busy with familial commitments, and then afterward she’d been helping with her parents’ house hunting, dealing with her own preparations for her school’s winter showcase and one Rennie-type school thing after the other. They’d spoken here and there, he’d called her, she’d called him. But they hadn’t been together since before Thanksgiving, and she wondered if he’d grown tired of her or, worse, had thought badly of her after her breakdown on his porch.

“Okay, thanks. I’ll be home for dinner. I just want to work on this last bit for the showcase. It’s stupid to dance myself. I’m the teacher; it’s about them.”

Her mother just put a hand on her hip. “You’re not just any teacher. Let’s be honest. You’re a star. You’re what these girls want to be. Of course they want to see you dance. Every time you show them something, they all stop and stare at you like you’re magic. I suppose you are, bebe. My star.” She hugged Elise and kissed both cheeks. “Shine. They’ll shine too, but do your two minutes and enjoy it. I’m off. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Make sure Rennie doesn’t have homework. I know it’s right before break, but she might have something.”

“Does it look like I fell off the mother truck yesterday? Darling, Matthias was a master at homework avoidance and he made it through school. Too bad I couldn’t train him to be a master of heroin avoidance, eh?”

That familiar pain flared. “Or I could have not brought Ken into his world.”

Martine shook her head. “Elise, are you so silly you think Matthias never did drugs before Ken? Remember, darling, he’d been to rehab once already by the time you started dating Ken. Matthias, as beautiful a soul as he was, did not die because of you, or Ken, or even me or Daddy. He died because he never did have any concept of moderation. It made you want to look at him the moment he walked into a room. But it made him cheat on girlfriends and shoplift and drive too fast and shoot up heroin until it killed him. Here’s the present I want to give you for Christmas, Elise. I want you to be responsible for what is yours and to let go of everyone else’s failings. Eh? I’m trying it too. We can work on it together.”

“I love you, Mama.” Elise allowed herself some tears, some comfort. “I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for being here.”

“I love you too. We wouldn’t be anywhere else. You know as well as anyone that home is where your loved ones are. Daddy and I don’t have any strings tying us to New York anymore. We like it here and that’s that. Now, get to work while your daughter and I go spend money.”

She stretched and warmed up and then put the music on. Some years prior she’d been in a production of Carmina Burana with the Boston Symphony. The interlude was short enough, not overly difficult, but it certainly showcased many different skills most of the advanced students should have mastered and be polishing.