Tamarack Creek

I Carly, Dorothy Carleton, stood in the doorway of the bedroom where Lee Halvorson and Lori Yeager lay locked together in a tangle of sheets on Carly’s double bed. She had at first headed toward the radio in the apartment when she’d been jolted into reality by the unmistakable sounds of passion. Knowing that she would be sorry if she investigated, she had moved toward the source, anyway, until here she was, faced with the fact that Lee was cheating on her and in her own bed. Stunned into silence, she opened and closed her mouth without a sound. The murmur of voices on the radio and the buzzing in her ears were all she heard. If Lee and Lori had been verging on climax, her appearance had thrown cold water on their desire. They lay as if in shock, their faces turned toward her. The startled gazes of the two women made Carly feel that she was an intruder, the one who should leave the premises. Face burning, she turned and fled. Intent only on escape, she saw nothing on her way to the door except the vision of Lee and Lori’s bodies now engraved in her mind’s eye. Outside, she hurried through the whiteout to her car and fishtailed out of the parking lot, pursued by the image. Fleetingly, she thought of her clothes and personal effects that remained in the apartment with Lee. Returning for them was unthinkable, but after a few minutes, driving aimlessly about in the storm became just as inconceivable. The Saturn’s tires whirred over the snow that was blanketing the city and snarling traffic in its silent, frigid grasp. Because of the storm Carly, along with her coworkers, had left the job early. She had been listening to a segment on public radio about living with less on To the Best of Our Knowledge, when she’d hurried into the apartment. Jim Fleming had been interviewing a Seattle couple who had given up their huge salaries and had sold their expensive house, two high-priced vehicles, and other costly toys. She’d missed hearing how the couple

managed to live on a joint income of twenty-five thousand dollars. Their intent in scaling down was to build a relaxing, rewarding lifestyle. However, now that they’d written a book and were giving lectures, she assumed they were no longer forced to be so frugal. Before she had discovered Lee and Lori in bed, she’d been thinking that she’d happily follow the Seattle couple’s example if Lee weren’t so much younger than she and disinclined to frugality. If she quit her job, she could move to Tamarack Creek and share quarters with her brother. He’d be company, anyway. Her only expectation from those she spent most of her time with was that they be interesting. Her brother could be outrageous, but he was always interesting. He never bored her. The swirling cone of snow, which the wipers flapped frantically to clear away, mimicked her thoughts, chasing back and forth. She needed to get out of the storm, but where to go? Ginny and Barb, her two oldest friends in the area, popped into her head. When she thought of one, the other came to mind as if they were inseparable. They would gladly give her refuge, she knew. In fact, they’d be upset if she didn’t turn to them. Parking next to the pay phone at a KwikTrip gas station, she pulled the receiver through the window, fished out thirty-five cents, and then punched in a phone number. “Where are you?” her friend Ginny asked. “What’s all that noise?” She told Ginny about Lee and Lori, raising her voice over the clatter of a passing snowplow. “Never did trust Halvorson. Come on over and stay with us.” Unable to think of anything better to do next, she followed Ginny’s instructions. Fortunately, she always carried a change of underwear, toothbrush, toothpaste, and a book to read, just in case she ever became stranded anywhere. She took the backpack into the house where Ginny

and Barb waited with sympathetic looks. She’d looked forward to the possibility of being snowed in with Lee, to building a blaze in the fireplace, eating by candlelight, then watching a video. If she hadn’t gone home early, she wondered, how long would the affair have continued without her knowledge? How long had it been going on? Months? Weeks? She felt like a fool, only now recalling the clues she’d been too nearsighted to see ​ Lee’s surreptitious phone calls, the many weeknights she came home late, weekends when she disappeared for hours at a time, her disinterest in sex. Carly waited numbly for Barb and Ginny to go to bed so that she could lie down on their sofa and rid herself of the day’s discovery. But when she did squeeze her eyes shut, she was unable to banish the image of Lee and Lori ​ their breasts sandwiched together, the sheet around their waists ​ and she slept badly. They had looked so beautiful. She wakened, disoriented, to the smell of coffee and voices in the kitchen. Opening the blinds, she squinted at the cold sun. A dazzling whiteness lay over everything. The snow had stopped. Pulling on the same clothes she’d worn the day before, she joined Ginny and Barb in the kitchen. They turned and looked at her in unison, and she fancied the pity in their eyes. “I don’t want sympathy. I don’t want advice. I just want to leave town,” she said, surprising herself. As soon as she had spoken the words, she recognized the truth in them. This wasn’t running. It was doing what she’d wanted to do all along. She would follow the example of the Seattle couple. “Where will you go?” Ginny asked. “To Tamarack Creek.” Excitement flashed through her. The way had been unexpectedly cleared for her to live frugally at the place she loved most in the world. “For the weekend?” Barb said.

“Maybe for good.” Was it possible? Would Dan welcome her? “Isn’t your brother there?” “Yep. We own the place together.” It was half hers: She paid half the taxes, half the maintenance. When their parents had died, they’d inherited the family place on a trout stream that had once been their maternal grandparents’ homestead. Dan had moved into the house a year ago when he’d taken a job as chef at the hotel in Tamarack. Midafternoon on Saturday she decided all the roads would be cleared to Tamarack Creek, that she would not be stranded by snowdrifts. She had not talked to Lee, nor did she want to. She thanked Barb and Ginny, who insisted she move in with them until she made up her mind about where she would live. The sun was setting, coloring the snowy fields mauve, when she turned onto the last road leading to the farmhouse. A light shone over the side porch, spilling out to the freshly plowed driveway. She parked, grabbed her backpack, and hurried to the door. The temperature had plummeted all day and, with clear skies, promised to drop even more overnight: zero with the wind-chill, if the radio was to be believed. Inside, a blanket of warmth enclosed her. One floor lamp glowed over a chair in the living room, while the fan in the woodstove dispersed the heat of a fire. Garrison Keillor’s soothing voice recounted the news from Lake Woebegon. She dropped the backpack and walked through the dining room to the kitchen. Daniel peered at her through the steam rising from a pot on the stove. His intense, deeply set green eyes were shaded by a wall of dark brows drawn together in a frown. The beginnings of a grizzled beard grew on his cheeks and chin, and his thick crop of hair stood askew. He wore baggy jeans, a huge flannel shirt, and moccasins. “I wondered whether you were going to make it. Got your message. I was at work.”

Comforted by the familiar surroundings, she smiled for the first time since she’d left work on Friday. “Hi, Dan. Good to see you, too.” Shuffling across the room to the fridge, he removed two vodka-and-tonics from the freezer and handed her one. “How long can you stay?” he said, smothering her in a vast hug. Pulling out a chair from the pine table next to double windows, now dark with night, she shivered as wind rattled the glass. “Maybe forever.” She held her breath, waiting for his reaction. The message she had left had only said she was coming to see him. He gave a sideways glance as he dished up the beef stew and put a plate of it in front of her along with a bowl of salad and a slice of bread; he did the same for himself. Carly wondered if he would welcome her as a permanent roommate. “What about your job?” he asked. “I’ll give notice next week.” She ate hungrily for a few moments, surprised at her appetite. Wasn’t she supposed to be devastated by Lee’s betrayal? “I can’t just walk out.” “What happened?” “Let’s just say I caught Lee in a compromising position.” “No wonder she called.” “What did she want?” she asked, her throat tightening. Nothing Lee could say would change what Carly had seen. Nor, she realized, did she want it to. A relationship without trust only created anxiety. “For you to phone her.”

“I have to get my clothes and things from the apartment.” Then she told him of the segment she’d heard about the Seattle couple. “I thought I could do that, live on less, in order to live here. What do you think?” “I already live on the edge,” he pointed out. After cleaning up the dishes and putting away the food, they gravitated to the living room where the heat from the fire had raised the temperature into the eighties. Carly jumped when the phone rang. Daniel handed her the telephone, making a face while mouthing Lee’s name. Carly tucked the receiver between her chin and shoulder, listening impatiently. “I didn’t know what it would be like to lose you,” Lee lamented, a line she’d used before. Carly cut her off. “I’ll pick up my things Saturday after next. Maybe you could arrange to be gone.” “You’re moving out?” Lee sounded surprised. “You bet, sweetie.” Rage boiled beneath the endearment, startling her with its intensity. She would no longer have to account for her activities or thoughts. “Where will you go?” “What’s it to you?” Lee had been a nosy, mistrustful lover. Probably because Lee was cheating, she thought Carly was likely to do the same. Tired, she went to bed early and slept well, awakening the next morning in her frigid upstairs bedroom. Only her head stuck out from the covers, her breath condensing into frozen moisture. She knew when her feet hit the floor that they would ache with cold, and she huddled into a ball until her

bladder drove her downstairs to the bathroom. “We really ought to install a toilet upstairs, you know, and insulate the place better.” “I thought we were going to live frugally, like the Seattle couple,” Daniel reminded her with lofted eyebrows. “You don’t think we’ll kill each other with all the proximity, do you?” They had very different ideas on keeping house. He was Mr. Neat, while she leaned toward being Ms. Casual. “Maybe. We’ll have to stay out from under each other’s feet.” Rising before dawn Monday morning, she dressed in the outfit she had worn on Friday and washed over the weekend. During the noon hour she would go to the apartment and take as many clothes and toiletries as she could carry. As a data processor, she knew her job was one she could find elsewhere ​ perhaps at the Tamarack Gazette ​ but she was tired of sitting in front of a computer screen all day, feeding it boring statistics. Perhaps working at one of the other businesses in Tamarack would be more interesting. That morning she typed a written notice of her intent to resign in two weeks and handed it to her supervisor. The woman studied it with a frown before looking at her. “There are other jobs available here besides data processing.” “Thanks, but I’m moving away.” Away from this boring job, she thought with an inward smile. “Where are you going?” “To a place near Tamarack.” A little thrill coursed through her, and she wondered if she was daring or foolish. “Never heard of it,” the woman said. “I hate to see a good employee go,

but I’ll write you a recommendation.” “I appreciate it.” At noon she unlocked the apartment and stepped inside, closing the door to the hallway where the odor of old meals and countless pets rose out of the carpeting. The patio blinds darkened the living room, and she turned on a lamp. Carly was grateful that Lee’s car had not been parked in her space. In the bedroom Carly emptied her drawers into boxes. She did the same in the bathroom. From the closets she took her hanging clothes, carried them to the Saturn, and placed them on the backseat. All she felt was a nagging anxious need to finish and get out of the apartment before Lee showed up. In less than an hour she was on her way back to work. It was as if the sight of Lee in bed with Lori had wiped out the years with Lee, and the consuming passion she’d once felt for her. She now attributed that passion to lust. After work on Monday, she shopped for groceries to take to Barb and Ginny’s. She would fix them dinner that night and every other night during her two weeks’ notice. It would be her contribution in exchange for a bed on their couch. She loved them dearly, but their obvious caring for each other only made her lonely. While they sat on the couch holding hands, or while one lay with her head in the lap of the other, Carly struggled to breathe around the deep ache in her chest over the closeness she’d never had with Lee ​ or with anyone else, for that matter. Carly was a captive audience to their affection. On the second Saturday, Daniel met her in the parking lot of the apartment building she’d shared with Lee. They loaded Dan’s truck and their battered, open five-by-eight trailer with the belongings she had brought to her life with Lee ​ the double bed, a dresser, a desk, the walnut rocker that

had belonged to her mother, two lamps, a bookcase, books, kitchenware, towels and sheets, pictures. Where had all this stuff come from? she wondered. She had given a lot of family belongings to her daughter Janie when she had moved away. Sooner or later Janie would get them anyway, so why not let her have them when they were of use? Carly had thought. Now with Lee gone, Janie would visit Tamarack Creek more this summer. Janie loved the family homestead, but had seldom gone there when Lee was part of the package. Carly followed Daniel’s old four-wheel drive Chevy 1500 to the farmhouse. Only small, shaded piles of snow remained from the storm two weeks ago. Temperatures had risen all week, peaking on Wednesday at fifty degrees. The unpredictability of the March weather made the sun on her face more welcome than usual. A warm wind, lengthening days, the increasing solar heat, and the shoots of trillium and mayapples poking out of the earth carried the promise of spring and, for her, a rush of excitement. Wisconsin winters were long, made endurable by the knowledge that the world would turn warm and green again.

II She and Daniel had occasionally joked about spending their sunset years together on Tamarack Creek, and now it looked like they might be doing just that. She had always known they’d be in each other’s lives, but she hadn’t really believed they’d end up as housemates ​ a crotchety aging gay man, and a frustrated midlife lesbian. It made her chortle. Pulling up beside Daniel’s truck in the driveway, she stepped out into the warm afternoon, feeling like a woman unexpectedly given her most cherished wish. Living on Tamarack Creek had seemed destined for retirement years, not the present. They emptied the contents of the truck and trailer in less than an hour, having already decided where to put the stuff. Sweating profusely, Dan cursed and grumbled while she laughed at him. She experienced moments of gratitude for Lee’s indiscretion, although until she had found Lee with Lori, she hadn’t known she wanted to be released from the commitment. “You seem pretty goddamn happy for someone who caught her lover in bed with another woman,” he said, wiping his forehead with his arm. “How did you know?” She couldn’t remember confiding in him. “It wasn’t hard to guess. Isn’t that what a ‘compromising position’ is? It happens to most of us,” he replied dryly. “Let’s get this done and go for a walk. I’ll introduce you to the new neighbors.” “You mean the Knoxes? They’re not exactly new.” “They sold the farm. Didn’t I tell you?” She frowned. Had he? She had felt an obligatory kinship with the Knoxes. The two families had been neighbors long before she was born. “I would

have come to say good-bye.” “They’re still around. I know I told you. They auctioned off the cows and machinery and moved into town. A couple about our age bought the place to use as a nursery, mostly prairie and native stuff. He drives a truck; she tends the flora.” “What’s to tend in the winter?” With a jolt she remembered his telling her about the Knoxes, but she’d been busy when they’d sold out. She would look them up in town. “She’s getting ready for spring, I guess. Ordering the inventory and preparing the place for business.” With a grunt he set down the mattress, put the bed together, and fell on it. “I’m getting too old and fat for this.” She sat down next to him in the sunshine that flooded the room. “How are Janie and the kid?” he asked. “I wonder what she’ll make of my moving?” “She’ll be pleased. She never liked Lee.” Although it wasn’t news to her, knowing Janie had confided in Daniel about Lee made Carly immediately defensive. Not fair. “Lee was just a little young. You don’t want your stepmother to be your peer,” she said facetiously. He snorted. “I don’t think she thought of Lee as a stepmother.” “So I made a mistake. Lee was fun. She made me feel young.” She ran a hand over the plastic covering. It was hard to admit to the blind lust that had driven her to Lee. “Do you have someone, Dan?” He smiled, his eyes glittering in their deep sockets. “Who’d want a fat, old man like me?” “You’re not fat,” she said, pinching his midriff. “Just a little belly roll.”

“Hands off,” he growled. They walked to the neighbors’ in the cooling afternoon, stepping off the blacktop and onto the sandy berm when a car approached. The farmhouse and outbuildings were a half-mile down the road with nothing in between but fields and woods. Their small part of the countryside had remained unchanged because her family and the Knoxes had kept it intact. She would hate to see the land broken up into smaller parcels to become building sites, like so much of the surrounding acreage. “What are the Knoxes doing now?” she asked, wrapping her lightweight jacket around her against the evening chill. Fred Knox had taken over the farm from his father, whose grandfather had homesteaded the land. She wondered how he could bear to part with it. “Fred’s working full-time at the building supply. Betty checks out at the IGA.” “I thought they loved farming.” “Betty told me that when their kids moved away Fred lost his enthusiasm for farming. It’s a lot of work.” Little puffs of dust rose from underfoot as they turned into the sandy driveway into the Knoxes’ old farm. When Daniel pounded on the side door of the house, a large dog came running from the barn, its hackles raised, its bark deep and threatening. “Don’t worry. He’s harmless. Hey, Queenie,” Daniel greeted the animal. “Don’t you mean she?” she asked. “Queenie’s a he.” He bent to pat the dog, which resembled a cross between a German shepherd and a black Lab. She let the dog sniff her fingers, then ran a hand over his black-and-gray

coat and scratched behind his floppy ears. As children, Dan and Carly had always had a dog, usually a mixed breed, who’d loved running those sandy hills. She missed the comfort that a dog’s unconditional love brought. A woman emerged from the barn, and they met her halfway. She wore a flannel shirt under overalls and gave the impression of size, but when she got close, Carly saw they were of a same height ​ around five-foot-nine. Her thick salt-and-pepper hair framed a face with high cheekbones creased by the sun and dominated by hazel eyes the color of the trout stream. The woman introduced herself, showing teeth a little crowded. “Serena Castle.” She gestured around her. “This is my fief.” Carly looked at the paint-flaked house and barn and the leaning sheds, all enclosed by falling fences that had once confined the cows that the Knoxes had always milked. If she sniffed hard, she thought she could smell musty hay and old manure. “My sister, Carly,” Daniel said. Serena smiled sweetly and shook hands before stuffing them back in the pockets of her overalls. “You look like a real farmer in that outfit,” he commented. “I’m trying. Want to come in for a few minutes? I need a break.” Her hand resting on Queenie’s head, Carly followed a couple of feet behind Daniel and Serena. The large dog leaned against her leg, impeding her progress. When they reached the door, she squeezed through it with the animal glued to her side. “Grab a chair. And, Queenie, you lie down. You have to be firm with him, Carly. He’ll climb in your lap if you let him,” Serena said. “I don’t mind,” she demurred. She loved dogs. “You will,” Serena assured her. “He has the worst breath in the world.”

The dog circled and settled with a thump, his mouth hanging open in a grin, his tail sweeping the dingy linoleum floor. The fifties dated, Formica-topped, chrome-legged table, and yellow plastic-cushioned chairs fit right in with the paint-chipped white cupboards and the grimy, pale green walls. She had forgotten the unrelenting dreariness of the decor. When she’d visited the Knoxes, she’d spent as much time in the barn as possible. Serena followed Carly’s gaze with her own. “I haven’t done a thing inside yet. It may have to wait till next winter now.” “I told you I’d help,” Daniel said. Serena smiled a little. “Be careful what you offer.” “You get the paint, and I’ll slap it on. Maybe Carly will assist.” “After I find a job,” Carly said, giving Daniel a warning look. Painting was not her thing. “You here to stay?” Serena asked her. “If I can find work.” “This is where Carly and I spent our summers as kids. It was our escape from reality. Never thought we’d end up here together, though we talked about it often enough.” Serena poured coffee into their cups and, tucking one leg under her, sat with them. “I wanted to be my own boss. So I left a cushy forty-hour-a-week office job to work here seven days a week for a fraction of the money, none of the benefits, and all of the worry.” She laughed abruptly, startling Carly, who was stirring sugar into her coffee. “Why did you choose the nursery business?” Carly asked, truly curious. How people got where they were always interested her.

“I worked in a nursery on weekends,” Serena replied. “What kind of a job are you looking for?” “Anything that keeps my head above the financial waters,” she replied. “Where’s Jess?” Daniel asked. “On the road,” Serena said. “He should be home soon.” Dan drained his cup and got up. “Don’t want to keep you from your work.” Outside, he looked around. “Anything I can do to help?” “Nope. I’m making order around here, getting ready for spring.” Serena’s eyes followed Daniel’s. “Could have fooled you, huh?” “Don’t put words in my mouth. Let me know when you get the paint.” Serena nodded, turning away as if she was already moving on to other thoughts. They turned toward home. When they were out of earshot, Dan asked, “Well, how do you like her?” “Seems nice enough.” The sun had dipped below the trees, and she quickened her step, breathing deeply of the familiar, earthy smells. “I know you meant well, Dan, but don’t volunteer my services. I hate to paint.” He shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his baggy jeans. “Thought you might want to get to know her better.” “I’m sure I will in my own good time.” Right now she felt only a need for solitude and space. She was just beginning to relax, and her head no longer ached from grinding her teeth nights. “What is your interest in her anyway? Her husband?” He squeezed her shoulder. “Just being friendly. Jess is a handsome dog, but he’s a mean one.”

Sunday morning, she woke to cloudy skies and strong winds. Overhead, a skein of loudly honking geese was on the move. Returning sandhill cranes made their peculiar, hollow clacking calls as they flew. Soon she would awaken to their warbling whoops of mating. Sitting at the breakfast table, she spied a redwing blackbird at the feeders. To her, they were the harbingers of spring, and she called to Daniel excitedly. “Well, it is March,” he said with annoyance, having rushed into the room half-lathered. After breakfast, she walked down to the trout stream that flowed along the edge of the property, the near side on their land, the far one on public land. The brownish gold water pooled in thick eddies and undercut the banks in sharp curves as it meandered through fields and woods. She stood at the base of an immense weeping willow that had already been huge in her youth. Daniel came up behind her and sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s better to start somewhere new where there are no memories.” “Kind of late for that, isn’t it?” Her roots were buried deep on this property, but she knew what he meant. They perpetuated tradition and were trapped by it. A brisk wind sped lowering clouds overhead. “Doesn’t feel like spring today.” “What are you going to do?” “Unpack. Walk around the place. Read. Write to Janie and tell her what’s going on. Look at the classifieds.” He laughed. “Like there’s a lot to look at. I’ll ask around at the hotel.” In the afternoon she started a fire in the wood stove fireplace insert and settled into a chair with her laptop computer on the coffee table in front of her. The Mac was her most treasured possession. With it she sent and received e-mail, wrote letters, and kept a journal. She preferred the written word to the telephone, where she failed to express herself fully or well when

required to give an immediate reply. Sealing the envelope to her daughter, she carried it to the mailbox. The wind lashed her short hair against her face, and she pulled the hood of her jacket over her head. Instead of returning to the house, she crossed the trout stream on a fallen willow and walked along a two-lane path through a field of grass toward the far woods. Three deer raised their long necks, pausing in mid chew, then, flashing white tails, fled with long, supple bounds into the woods. She felt lonely. Halfway to the woods she turned around and, facing the cold wind, made her way back to the house. She needed purpose, she decided. And the sun. It would be better once she was earning again and it warmed up. When Daniel slammed through the front door calling her name, she had just emptied the contents of the last box onto her bed. He puffed up the stairs and stood in her doorway as she hung garments in the closet. “Some of Mom’s clothes are still in here,” she said, looking at him. “I know.” He reached past her and lifted hangers off the bar. “I’ll bag them up.” “But I might wear some,” she protested. It hurt to dispose of her mother’s clothes, as if they weren’t good enough to wear. “No, you won’t. They’ll hang there till they rot. You just can’t bear to throw them away.” He looked down at her. “Want me to start dinner?” She heard an accusation in his voice. “I’ll help as soon as I get these things off my bed.” She was glad he was home, taking the loneliness out of the house. While the pot of chili bubbled on the stove, she made a salad and Daniel set the table. He pulled the cork on a bottle of Gamay Beaujolais, removed the bread he’d started that morning in the bread

maker, and went into the living room to stoke the fire. When he returned and they sat down to eat, gray shadows were creeping across the lifeless grass. “Are there any jobs in town?” She ate quickly, suddenly aware of her hunger. “Not that I found out about, but tomorrow maybe you should try some of the other places. The bank and newspaper, the hardware and grocery stores, the building supply store, the minimart. Have you got a resume?” “Yep.” By the time she cleared the table and Daniel went into the living room to add wood to the fire, night had blackened the windows. She heard a vehicle drive up, the door slam, footsteps on the side porch. Pausing with a dish in hand, she listened. Serena’s voice drifted to her. “Have you seen Queenie, Dan? He went off an hour ago and hasn’t returned.” Wiping her hands on a towel, Carly hurried to the front door, remembering one of her mother’s dogs that had disappeared just before his nightly feeding, never to be found. She took her jacket off the hall tree and jerked it on. “Where are you going?” Daniel asked. “To look for Queenie, of course.” She already imagined the old dog lying in a ditch after being hit by a car. Serena wore a hooded sweatshirt and a heavy denim jacket over her overalls. “He followed Jess out of the driveway.” “Where was Jess going?” Daniel shrugged into his winter jacket. “I don’t know.” Serena sighed, her eyes darting away. “We had a terrible

fight.” “Maybe he took the dog with him,” Daniel said. “No. I watched till his taillights disappeared. The dog was still chasing him, barking.” She looked sad and distant for a moment, then seemed to shake herself. “Queenie loves Jess, even though Jess usually ignores him.” The three of them stood in an uncertain clump, no one knowing where to rest their eyes. Dan cleared his throat. “Well, let’s hop to it.” He gathered up a couple of flashlights and handed one to Carly. “We’ll drive to Serena’s place and start from there.” The wind had died, leaving a clear, cold night filled with stars. Carly stood at the end of Serena’s driveway, staring at the heavens, immersed in the blackness that surrounded her. In the city there was always artificial light. Her breath hovered in a cloud around her face. She started back toward the house on Tamarack Creek, calling Queenie’s name while sweeping the ditch with her flashlight. Pausing, she listened for the dog’s whine or bark, any sound that might indicate his presence. Passing the house, she felt the draw of lights and the smell of wood smoke promising warm shelter on a cold night. When she reached the bridge over the trout stream, she played the flashlight into the dark waters. Her heart jumped when red eyes stared back at her. A huge raccoon hunkered on the bank, its gray-and-black coat highlighted in the small beacon of light. “Hey, fellow,” she said softly. “Seen an old dog?” Then she moved on down the road to the next bend where she crossed over and scoured the ditch along the other side as she made her way back to Serena’s. Just past her own empty house, she heard Daniel calling and quickened her steps until she was running. “Did you find him?” she yelled, her heart

thumping in her ears from the exercise. In the pool of light shed by the dusk-to-dawn light between the farmhouse and the barn stood Serena and Daniel with the dog gamboling between them. “Where was he?” she asked, breathless. “He found us,” Daniel said. “Came walking up like he was wondering what all the fuss was about.” “I’m sorry I got you out for no reason, but he’s never disappeared before. Want to come in and warm up?” Daniel looked at Carly. “Nah. We better go home. If you need us, give a call.” “Will do,” Serena said. “Thanks.” She and the dog stood pinpointed as if they were on stage, silhouetted against the surrounding darkness. Serena grasped Queenie’s collar with one hand and waved with the other. “What’s going on that her husband comes home and the first thing they do is fight?” Carly asked Daniel as they rehung their jackets on the hall tree. “She looked so goddamn forlorn.” “Everyone fights,” Dan said, following her into the kitchen and pouring them each another glass of wine while she finished cleaning up the dishes. “Didn’t you get the feeling something was wrong?” she asked, returning with him to the welcoming heat of the living room. “Maybe he’s got someone else.” “Do you like him?” “Not particularly. He’s got a trigger temper, unpredictable as hell.” Ill

She pondered what to wear the next morning and finally sought Daniel’s opinion. “What do you think? Skirt or slacks?” knowing as she asked that she would wear the skirt, just to be on the safe side. “Depends on where you’re going to apply.” He sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. “Everywhere,” she said and climbed the stairs to her bedroom to dress. She glanced out her window at the yard sloping to the trout stream. The sun shone down between thin clouds. The giant thermometer hanging from the maple tree near the feeding station read thirty-five degrees. After she dressed and was back in the kitchen, with Daniel gone to ready himself, she sat at the table and watched the birds. A pair of cardinals, myriad purple finches and goldfinches, nuthatches, chickadees, a downy woodpecker, and the ever-present blue jays flitted from trees to the different feeders ​ an endless stream of dinner guests. If she shut her eyes, she could imagine herself here with her mother a few years ago, drinking coffee and watching the birds. “Remembering?” Daniel asked, startling her. He put a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster and poured himself more coffee. “Want some?” “Please.” She held up her cup. “It’s hard not to. Mom was a fixture here those last five years.” “And now we’re the fixtures,” he said, sitting across from her. She nodded and the phone rang, the shrill sound oddly out of place. Daniel lifted the receiver off the wall. “Yeah, she’s here.” He thrust it at her. “Lee.” “What?” she said rudely into the mouthpiece. Accusingly, Lee said, “You took some of my CDs.”

“I’ll send them back. They must have been mixed in with mine.” “Don’t you want to give us another try?” Lee asked. “Nope. Do me a favor and don’t call anymore.” “Puck you.” “No thanks.” She got up to replace the phone and said, “What did I ever see in her?” He lifted his eyebrows. “I could ask the same question.” She stared at him with annoyance. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get involved with anyone again.” “Is that a promise?” He dumped the rest of his coffee down the sink. “Got to go.” As she drove past Serena’s on the way to town, she noticed that a truck tractor without the trailer was parked in the driveway. But she saw no one, not even Queenie. Stopping at the newspaper first, she filled out an application and left her updated resume with the receptionist. Then she walked to the bank where she did the same. At the hardware store she talked to Bill Admundson, who owned the place and had run it single-handedly for years. “I’d hire you in a minute if I could,” he said, “but my son works here between semesters. It’s all the help I can afford.” From there she went to the building supply where Fred Knox stood behind the counter, talking to another man. The two men glanced at her. “Carly!” Fred said, his face lighting up with recognition. “What are you doing in town on a Monday?” “Looking for a job.” She smiled. “I met the woman who bought your place. I

hated hearing you’d sold the farm.” He shook his head and pursed his lips. “Farming’s pretty subsistence. Lots of work and few rewards. Me and Betty decided to take the easy way out. There was no use saving it for the kids.” He glanced at the customer. “They didn’t want it.” “Mine don’t either.” The other man was dressed in coveralls with work gloves stuffed in the pockets. “One of these days I’ll sell the cows and machinery, too. Me and the wife will probably stay on, though. Can’t imagine living anywhere else.” He knocked on the counter. “Got to go, Fred.” Nodding at Carly, he touched the brim of his cap and left. Fred asked, “Have you seen Betty yet?” “Nope. I’m going there next. I just came from the hardware store. Do you have any openings for a full-time employee here?” He shook his head. “Not that I know of, but I’ll put in a good word for you with the boss.” The sun’s heat filtered through the clouds, warming her head and shoulders as she crossed the street to the IGA armed with the grocery list Daniel had given her. Betty stood at the checkout counter, sliding items over the bar code reader. Grabbing a cart, Carly quickly made her way through the aisles, picking things off the shelves. At the checkout, she grinned. “How are you, Betty?” “Good. You look wonderful, Carly.” “So do you,” she lied. Although Betty couldn’t have been more than ten years her senior, she had not aged well. Her colored black hair perched like a wig on a spider, so spindly were her arms and legs, confirming Carly’s belief that people looked better with a little weight on them.

“Are you on vacation?” “Nope. I’m here to stay. Can I fill out an application for work?” “Sure.” Betty pushed a form her way and checked out the groceries while Carly filled in the blanks. “About all you get here is part-time. That way they don’t have to pay benefits.” She bagged the groceries. “Have you met the people who bought the farm?” “I met Serena. I haven’t seen him yet.” She handed Betty the application. “I can’t tell you how glad I was to leave the place.” From the IGA Carly walked to her car, parked in front of the Tamarack Gazette and drove to the minimart on the edge of town. After filling the tank and checking the oil, she went inside to pay and inquire about work. “Hang on a minute,” the girl behind the counter said. “I’ll get Larry. He’s looking for someone to take my place.” “Great,” Carly said. “I’ll make sure no one runs off with anything.” The girl came back with a tall, gangly man, who looked down at Carly out of pale blue eyes. His hair was a nondescript brown, his face long and lugubrious. Carly wondered if this was his nature or if he’d experienced some recent sadness. “Are you looking for full-time work?” he asked. “I am,” she said. “You look trainable.” He smiled hugely, showing long teeth with gaps between them. “Don’t I know you?” “You might have seen me around,” she said, giving her name. “We’ve had a place in the area all my life. I’ve filled up here many times.” Her hand disappeared in his grasp.

“Name’s Larry Landowski. Fill out an application and come in tomorrow around ten. We’ll start you at eight an hour plus benefits. How does that sound?” “Good. Thanks.” It was better than nothing, she told herself. She assumed the benefits meant health insurance, not a 401(k), and asked. She was right. Then she walked across the street to the hotel where Dan labored in the kitchen. “Jesus, how do you stand the heat?” It made her feel faint, and he was sheathed in a half-inch of sweat. “Chefs bask in the warmth of their ovens.” Wiping his hands on a stained apron, he asked if she’d had any luck, then said, “Good. Right across the street. We can ride to work together.” “If our shifts coincide,” she replied, remembering how handsome he’d been in his youth. “How late are you going to be?” “We stop serving at eight.” Leaving town, she drove a roundabout way home in order to renew herself with the local geography. The buildings springing up in fields and woods alarmed her. The way people usurped the landscape, replacing former farmland with new homes, made her fear that they would turn the countryside into a giant subdivision. These were her stomping grounds, and she thought of them, mistakenly or not, as relatively uninhabited except for the cottages rimming the lakes. And many of those cottages had been replaced by large homes. It was beyond her why anyone wanted two huge houses, both requiring upkeep and cleaning. Serena was standing at her mailbox, the dog at her side, and Carly slowed to a stop. She unrolled the passenger window. Serena poked her head through the opening. “Come on in and have a cup of coffee with me.”

Turning into the driveway, Carly parked next to the house and stepped out to wait. Queenie reached her first, greeting her with wriggles and whines. “You’d think I was an old friend.” “That’s dogs for you,” Serena said, opening the door. “On the other hand, my cat could care less.” Snoozing in the sun on a chair under the kitchen window, the cat opened an eye, then curled into a tighter ball. “There she is, Miss Hoity Toity.” “That’s her name?” Carly ran a hand over the gray striped cat, eliciting a purr. “Yep. We call her Hoity.” A frown rippled across Serena’s face. “Jess hates cats, actually.” “Cats are just too independent for most men, don’t you think? They want something that’ll slaver over them.” But the disclosure made her more wary about meeting Jess, especially after hearing about and seeing the consequences of Jess’s temper: Dan’s comment that Jess was mean, and Jess and Serena’s fight that led to the search for Queenie. Serena laughed. “Want decaf or pop or something more potent?” “Decafs fine.” It was only just afternoon. “Am I keeping you from something?” “I could work continuously and never get done. This is a welcome break.” “Do you need help?” she asked, more out of politeness than anything else. Serena eyed her. “You’re all dressed up.” “I could go home and change.” “Nah. That’s okay. Did you find a job?” Serena poured the coffee and sat

down with one leg under her. “At the minimart. Not the best money, but it’s better than a stick in the eye.” Serena smiled. “I guess I could use some part-time help.” “Could you? Doing what?” “Turning the barn into a shop. Setting out the stock when it comes. Helping with customers.” She was liking this woman. They were close to the same age, and sharing some of the same generational memories appealed to her. It was something she’d missed with Lee. “I’ll pay you whenever you can come.” Serena cocked an eyebrow. “Six an hour is the best I can do, though, until we get established.” “Does your husband help with the business?” She found herself watching Serena carefully, trying to get a feel for her life. What Serena had given away about Jess ​ his hating cats, his ignoring a loving dog, and his roaring off when angry ​ made her uneasy. She didn’t want to get in the middle where he could fault her. “Not much. He’s a trucker. He’s gone most of the time.” Serena poured more coffee and sank back in her chair with a sigh. “But he likes the solitude here.” Promising Serena she’d be back after she changed clothes, Carly left her standing in the driveway with Queenie at her side. She would have to remember to ask why Queenie wasn’t called King or Prince. Parking in front of the detached garage, she opened the car door and rested her feet on the sand driveway while she listened to the sounds around her. A comfortable peace settled over her. If she had a home, this was it. She had spent a life* time of vacations here. This had been where she’d returned in times of turmoil and from which she’d left feeling once more whole.

She heard sandhill cranes calling overhead and watched as two of the huge birds winged their way through the skies, their long necks stretched in front of them, their legs trailing behind. She experienced a heady moment, knowing that she would be here for the spring and maybe the months and years to follow.

IV After putting away the groceries, she gobbled a peanut butter-and-jam sandwich, changed into an old pair of jeans and T-shirt, and climbed back in her car. Parking near Serena’s barn, she followed the sounds of hammering inside. The building was dark and cool, despite gaps in the siding and the huge, open double doors through which machinery had once passed. The banging ceased about the time Queenie struggled to his feet and greeted Carly. “That was quick.” Although fastened by clips, strands of Serena’s hair had escaped and curled damply around her face. “What can I do?” Carly asked, absently straightening her own dark brown hair that was also streaked with gray. “Hold this shelving up while I nail it to the wall.” Serena pulled a nail out of her pocket and held it in place while she tapped it into the wood until it was secure enough to pound. The hours vanished under their sawing and hammering, and they covered half of a wall with rows of shelving. Despite the barn being at least ten degrees cooler than outside, they were sweating, and Carly wiped her forehead with a short sleeve. Her arms and back ached from holding the heavy wood up for Serena. “That’ll do it for today.” Serena turned and grinned at her. “You’re great help. What time did you get here?” Carly guessed about one-thirty and said so as they put the saw and hammers on the new shelves and went outside. Queenie looked up at them from where he now was stretched out in the sandy driveway. Glancing at her watch, Carly saw it was close to six-thirty, but she was in no hurry. No one was waiting for her at home. “The time just got away from me. I’ll go in the house and get some money,”

Serena said. “You don’t have to pay me every day.” Carly reached into the Saturn through the open window, pulled out a sweatshirt, and put it on. “I’ll come back on my day off, but I don’t know yet when that is.” “Good. You’ll be a pleasant surprise.” The next three days Carly worked under supervision, learning the minimart’s routine ​ waiting on customers, writing out charges, using the cash register, scheduling work orders for the shop, selling fishing licenses and lottery tickets, familiarizing herself with the inventory. By Friday she was alone at the counter with Larry in his office for backup. She had just rung up a cash sale for gas and reset the pump when a Ford pickup pulled up out front. The driver unfolded his long frame from behind the wheel and made his way inside. At the counter, he squinted down at her from a height of at least six-foot-two. His shoulders were broad, his hips narrow. His hair, cut in a graying crew cut, topped a square-chinned face. “Can I help you?” she asked. “I hear you’re our new neighbor.” He thrust a huge hand at her. She took it and smiled. “Are you Jess?” “That’s me.” He rested his knuckles on the counter, stared into her eyes, and said in a mild voice, “Serena don’t really need help, you know.” “Oh.” Her grin faded as his words registered. She felt as if she’d been slapped, and her face heated in a flush. “I hear you live with your brother down the road.” He smirked patronizingly, she thought. Nodding, she said, “Yep. You don’t need anything then?”

In that same soft voice, he said, “It’s more a matter of what I don’t need.” Startled, not sure she’d heard right, she asked, “What?” His eyes reminded her of blue marbles. “I don’t need folks hanging around my wife when I’m gone.” “She asked if I could work there part-time,” Carly said, making sure he knew she hadn’t been the one asking. However, her voice betrayed her and came out in an embarrassing squeak. She cleared her throat. “She’s got me. She don’t need anyone else.” He stood up. “Take care now.” “Fucker,” she muttered as she watched him lower his body onto the truck seat. She was shaking with rage. When she left the minimart, she stopped in at the hotel. “That bastard,” Dan said when she related her meeting with Jess. “I don’t know why you said he was good looking. He’s a bully.” How people appeared to her depended on how she felt about them. If she didn’t like them, they became unattractive. On the way home, as the late afternoon sunshine beat down through the open window, she rehearsed all the things she might have said to Jess had she thought of them and had she been free to say them. She couldn’t very well call a customer a fucking asshole or tell him to get out of her face. As she passed his house, she noticed that the pickup and semitrailer were parked next to the barn at the nursery. On Sunday, her first day off, the weather was so fine that she decided to wash some of the downstairs windows and put the screens on. She nearly dropped a storm window when she saw wild turkeys out by the barn. Leaning on the storm’s frame, she watched the large birds vanish behind the building. Around five o’clock she went inside to start supper.

Putting chicken legs and thighs in the oven to bake, she peeled and cut potatoes to boil and fixed a salad. Then she sat on the front porch steps with her chin on her hands, waiting for Daniel to return home. When Queenie unexpectedly wagged his way between her legs and licked her face, Carly looked up with alarm for fear Jess was following him. She breathed easier seeing Serena instead. “Are you all right?” Serena gave her an uncertain smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?” “I haven’t seen you since last Tuesday.” “Your husband told me not to come over,” Carly said. Serena looked down and toed the sand driveway. “I’m sorry. I should have guessed. He insisted on meeting you.” Carly stood up, annoyed with Serena for sending Jess her way. “Look. If he doesn’t want me around, I don’t want to be there. I just wish you’d told me.” That was clear enough, she thought. Normally she talked around an issue rather than hurt anyone’s feelings. “I want you around. I need your help.” Serena gave her another unsure smile. “Jess left on a run. He won’t be back for days.” No longer irked, she said, “Would you like a cup of coffee or a glass of wine or something?” “Decaf would be nice.” Serena’s smile seemed less hesitant. “You stay, Queenie.” “He can come in,” Carly said. “He can lie on the porch.”

In the kitchen they studied each other across the pine table, then.glanced out the windows at the bird feeders. Not a squirrel was in sight, thanks to Queenie. “We should get a dog, if only to keep the rodents off the feeders,” Carly said. “Why do you call him Queenie?” “Jess named him. He thought the dog was a sissy. Even as a pup, Queenie hated loud noises.” “Oh.” Carly studied Serena’s open face and friendly eyes and wondered what kept her with this man. Queenie’s woof made them jump as Dan drove past in his old pickup. The birds scattered, and the dog followed stiffly, still barking as if it were his place. “My offer of work still holds,” Serena said, looking at Carly intently. “We’ll see,” she said. Serena stood up and started out. “I should be getting back.” “Why don’t you eat with us?” Daniel suggested, joining them as they reached the porch. “It’d be nice to have company, wouldn’t it, Carly?” “There’s plenty.” “All right.” Serena accepted easily, turning back. “What can I do to help?” After dinner Carly and Daniel walked Serena and Queenie home, then headed back together in the dark. “Where was Jess?” Daniel asked. “He left on a run. He scares me, Dan.” “That’s what bullies do best.”

Back at the quiet house, Carly picked up her book and settled in the old chair to read. Daniel turned on public television and stretched out on the sofa. The phone rang and he reached behind him for the receiver. He sat up. “Janie. How are you? … We’re fine … Your mother’s right here. Want to talk to her?” Carly smiled as she took the phone. “Hi, sweetie. You got my letter?” “What a surprise,” Janie said. She pictured her daughter, saw the dark hair and eyes shining with health. “How’s Francie?” “Adorable. Of course, I’m not prejudiced or anything. Would you like company over Easter? I have Friday off.” “That would be wonderful. If you get here and nobody’s home, just settle in. We’ll be back.” “They’re coming?” her brother said when she hung up, and she knew he was pleased. “I’ll get a ham,” she said.

V After work on Friday, as Carly bagged her own groceries at the IGA, she asked, “Are your kids coming for Easter?” “We’re going to their place instead. How about you?” Betty said. “Janie and Francie are probably already at the house waiting for me.” “Let’s get you home then. Say hello to Janie and give that little one a hug.” A warm breeze blew into the car on the drive home. Carly found it hard to believe that a cooling trend was in the offing. How quickly she forgot the cold and the warmth once they were gone. Rain and lower temperatures were forecast for the weekend and into next week. Janie’s van was parked in the driveway when Carly turned in. As she braked next to it, her granddaughter burst out of the house. Three-year-old Francine, a cheerful little scamp of a girl with dark blue eyes like Carly’s, ran toward her with outstretched arms. Janie followed, a grin on her face. Janie snatched the bag of groceries from her mother as Carly scooped her granddaughter into her arms. “So here you are, Mom. Is this for real? Are you staying?” Janie said. “I’ve got a job here.” Her heart swelled a little as she kissed her daughter. Janie put an arm around Carly and they moved toward the house through the warm afternoon. “Let’s put the groceries away and go for a walk.” Balancing Francie between them, they crossed the stream on the downed log they’d used as a bridge over the years. Last year’s grass rustled in a slight breeze and two deer bounded into the distant woods. “Look, Mama. Deer!” Francie shouted, running ahead on the path. “Can I ask you something, Mom?” Janie linked her arm with Carly’s. “Why

did you choose Lee?” After her initial outrage, Janie had seldom broached the subject of her mother’s sexuality. Unwilling to admit that she had been starved for a woman, any woman, Carly replied, “She was the first lesbian who came along. I know it never should have begun, but even mothers do foolish things.” “Look at me,” Janie said. “What about you? You have Francie. You have a good job.” A frown creased Janie’s forehead. “I feel as if I gave up too easily with Matt.” Carly leaned over to examine some animal tracks. Juncos flitted across the field, probably on their way farther north. She took her daughter’s hand and squeezed it, all the while thinking how much time is wasted agonizing over past events and actions. “It’s water under the bridge, Janie. There’s enough on your plate just working and raising Francine.” She had thought when Janie and Matt separated that Janie would understand a little better about why she had left Janie’s father, but the reasons were different. Carly had been acknowledging and asserting her sexual orientation, something Janie didn’t share with her. Janie had been forced to deal first with her mother’s lesbianism, her father’s loneliness, and then with an unfaithful husband. “We don’t do well with relationships, I guess,” Janie said. Carly reacted indignantly. “Oh, we didn’t do so badly, your dad and I. We were married nearly twenty years.” “I feel like such a goddamn failure.” Janie kept her gaze on her daughter. “After four years, I threw in the towel.” “You had good reasons.”

Janie visibly cheered. “How’s Uncle Dan?” “Okay. I know he’s looking forward to seeing you and Francie.” “Does he have anybody?” Janie said. “Not that I know of.” She unhooked her arm and put it around her daughter, thinking that this was a love that would never end. Although of the first priority, lovers and husbands sometimes left. No matter what, she would always be Janie’s mother and Francine’s grandmother. There were no exmoms or ex-grandmas in life. The thought pleased her. The next morning dawned cool, cloudy, and threatening rain, as predicted. Carly was at the table drinking coffee, waiting for the others to waken, when Francine crawled into her lap with her blanket. She smoothed the soft, brown hair away from the girl’s forehead. “Grandma, why doesn’t Daddy like us?” Francine pressed her warm little body into Carly. “He does. He loves you, pumpkin,” she said, caught off guard by the question. “He doesn’t live with us,” the little girl pointed out. “Sometimes parents get along better when they don’t live together, but they still love their children.” “Do you love Grandpa?” Francine asked. “I guess,” she said, although she wasn’t sure she did anymore. She was fond of John, though ​ Francine’s grandfather, her ex-husband. “He’s gonna marry Cynthia.” Carly paused mid stroke, surprised by the news. When she commenced again, she planted a kiss on her granddaughter’s hair. “Really? How nice.”

“I’m going to be a flower.” Why hadn’t Janie told her? “A flower girl?” “Will you come?” Francine twisted to look up at her. “No. I haven’t been invited, but I’m glad for your grandpa and Cynthia.” Of course she was, she told herself. As Janie walked in the room and headed for the coffeepot, Francie said, “Grandma didn’t know I’m gonna be a flower girl.” “You could have told me, Janie,” Carly murmured, slightly put out. “Francie beat me to it.” Janie sat at the table, and her daughter clambered onto her lap. She hugged Francie close. “Have you two eaten?” “Not yet,” Carly said. “I promised her pancakes.” “Can I watch cartoons?” Francie asked, slipping off her mother’s lap and dragging her blanket toward the living room. “We’ll call you when the cakes are ready.” When they heard the TV. Janie said, “I was going to tell you, Mom. You knew he was living with Cynthia.” Carly had left John, not the other way around. She had no right to feel anything but happiness for him, yet the thought of his marrying someone else brought to mind their good times together. She told Janie what Francie had said about her father. “God, it’s so hard to explain us to her. We’re supposed to be role models, able to get along, and we fail at it.” “Who fails at what?” Daniel’s thick hair stood up like a graying field of grass as he entered the kitchen and headed for the coffee. They told him the gist of what had been said, and he grunted. “John’s

marrying Cynthia? Who the hell is she?” Janie laughed. “Someone he met at the grocery store. She’s a man’s woman, just what Dad needs. That way she Won’t be lonesome and neither will he. She’ll just do whatever he wants to do.” Carly stared at her daughter, amazed at her perceptiveness. Her marriage with John had been lonesome, precisely because they’d failed to coalesce their interests. “Do you like her?” she asked. “It doesn’t matter whether I like her or not,” Janie said with a shrug. “Good for John.” Dan took a seat with them. Carly got up from the table. “I’ll start the pancakes. Want bacon and fried potatoes too?” “I’ll help,” Janie said. “Then maybe we can get in a walk before it rains.” “I’m going to veg out till I have to go to work,” Daniel said. “What is the kid watching anyway?” “Cartoons, Uncle Dan. What did mothers do before there Were TVs?” “Radio,” he said. Monday dawned on another cold, rainy day, and Carly forced herself out of bed when she heard Dan in the hallway. Pulling on a robe and slippers, she padded down the stairs to the bathroom and on to the kitchen. “You don’t have to get up with me,” Dan said, scooping coffee out of the can into the basket. “Yes I do. I have to be at work at seven. Why are you up so early?” The house felt empty without her daughter and grandchild, who had departed late Sunday afternoon.

“I’m having breakfast with someone.” “Really? Anyone I know?” “I don’t think so. His name’s Andrew Martinez. He sells restaurant supplies.” “Business?” He made a motion with his hand that indicated yes and no, and shrugged. When he left the room to shower, she plunked herself in a chair where she could watch the activity outside the windows. It wasn’t the first time she noticed how the lack of sunshine affected her adversely. Day after cold, cloudy day depressed the hell out of her, especially after the promising warmth of the previous week. Freshly shaved and dressed, Dan returned a few minutes later. “Are you going to see Serena anytime soon?” “I don’t know. Why?” “Tell her my offer’s still on, the one about painting.” “Have you got a death wish?” “Guess so.” He gave her a hard look. “Have you thought of what Jess might do if he finds out you prefer women to men?” “How will he find that out?” It had crossed her mind, and now the thought sent chills radiating from her spine. Carly glanced out the plate-glass windows of the minimart at a sky full of gray, billowing clouds and watched as Serena gassed up at one of the pumps. In the shop, the air compressor throbbed, while in the store an older man browsed the aisles, looking at lures.

A rush of cool, damp air flowed into the store when Serena pushed inside. She wore regular jeans and a T-shirt that revealed a figure the overalls had hidden. Carly admired the heavy breasts and ample hips. She liked a woman with some weight on her. In the next moment she shook those thoughts away. She steered away from straight women, especially ones with jealous husbands. Outside, Queenie sat in the front seat of the truck now parked next to the curb. She grinned at her impulse to wave at the dog. Serena wrote a check and handed it to her. “Do I have to buy gas to see you?” The unexpected question startled her, and she avoided answering. “Do you want a receipt?” “Please.” “Dan said to tell you his offer to paint is still good.” “That’s nice to hear. Will you come with him? Jess left this morning. He’ll be gone till late Friday. Tonight would be great.” “I’ll be off at three today.” Serena’s eyes lit up. “I sure could use some help.”

VI Driving home, Carly noticed hints of spring: green grass poking through the dead stuff along the roadsides, and yellowish green willow branches, buds on bushes, and crocuses blooming in front of houses, along with daffodils pushing their green, leaf-wrapped stems toward the light. Heavy clouds sped along by a strong wind obliterated the sun. She changed into jeans and a T-shirt and jumped back in her car. Her heartbeat picked up as she turned into Serena’s driveway. Even though Jess’s semi was gone, he’d be coming back. She hoped she wouldn’t be there when he did. The interior of the barn was transformed. The walls were lined with Ortho and other yard-and garden-related products, gardening tools, varieties of bird feeders and houses, bird— baths, clay pots, stacks of birdseed, grass seed, fertilizer, shepherd’s crooks, hoses, sprinklers, fountains, even statues. In the middle of the floor a rectangular counter had been erected. Speechless, she walked around looking at everything. “I saw you drive in.” Serena stood with hands on hips outlined by daylight angling through the open doorway. She wore a T-shirt and shorts. Queenie greeted Carly with his usual enthusiasm. Only a dog, she thought wistfully, wishing she had one to go home to. All her growing up life there had been a family dog. She ran a hand over him. “You’ve sure done a lot in a week. I can hardly believe it.” “Jess helped.” “What’s on the agenda today?” Serena jerked her head toward the door. “Come on outside. I’ll show you.”

On the far side of the barn a metal frame rose starkly out of the ground. It was made up of rods bent in half circles, meant to support the heavy cover that lay on the ground nearby. When put together, the structure would be shaped like a bungalow and act as a greenhouse. It would house flats of flowers, she assumed, as such temporary shelters did where most flowering plants were sold. “I can’t cover this frame alone. I don’t know if two of us can do it.” They were ready to give up when Daniel roared into the driveway in his old truck. Carly noticed the splatters of grease dotting his shirt as he approached them and smiled. “You’re just in time,” she said. With much cursing and sweating, the three of them managed to slide the clear vinyl cover over the frame and fasten it down. Then they stood back and admired their handiwork. “Couldn’t have done it without you, Daniel,” Serena said. “We men are good for something, eh? Even if it is only brute strength.” He grinned. “Did you get some paint?” “I did,” Serena admitted. “How about we do that kitchen tonight?” “I’d be glad to pay you both.” “We’re just being neighborly,” Dan said. “Right, Carly?” “Right. This is gratis.” That night as the kitchen walls brightened satisfyingly under Daniel’s roller and Carly’s paintbrush, Serena painted the cupboards she had scraped earlier. When they finished, the room dazzled under the overhead light.

“Much better, don’t you think? It hurts the eyes.” Paint dotted Daniel’s face and arms, and drops of it clung to his wild hair. Carly grinned at him, loving his careless appearance. Queenie wagged his tail at the door, and little whines crept out of his throat as the semi roared into the driveway. Serena turned in alarm, her movements abrupt, while Dan and Carly cocked their heads, straining toward the sound of the diesel engine. They froze in place as Jess pulled the door open, his bulk framed by the night behind him. “What have we here?” he said accusingly. Serena’s voice rose several notches. “Dan and Carly helped me paint the kitchen. Doesn’t it look great?” “The minute I go away the mice come out to play,” Jess drawled. While his huge hands clasped his narrow hips, his small eyes moved from one to the other. “It’s not like that at all,” Serena began in a high-pitched tone, the words falling over each other. “No? What is it like then?” Jess asked. “We’re done. We’re leaving.” Dan moved toward the door and hesitated. Jess was blocking the way. Carly said nothing. She was too afraid to form a thought, much less words, and would only later wonder why she’d felt as if she’d done something wrong. Jess took a few steps into the room, and she and Dan eased around him and down the stoop to the driveway. Carry drew in a deep breath only when they were safely outside. “You’re welcome, you bastard,” Dan muttered.

“You think he’ll hurt her?” Looking toward the kitchen window, she saw Serena gesturing. “I wouldn’t put it past him.” “Maybe we should stay,” she said. But Dan was climbing into his truck. “Get in your car. Let’s go. We’d only make it worse for her. Trust me.” The days flew by. Carly got up earlier each day, awakened by the morning light and the sounds of the birds singing, until she was beating Daniel out of bed. On certain shifts she had hours before she had to leave for the minimart, time she filled by walking the land, then sitting at the kitchen table and Writing her observations on the Macintosh, tracking the onset of spring. Sandhill cranes in the fields again. Noticed a fawn today lying in the woods on the public land, its spots rising and failing soundlessly with the beat of its heart and the draw of its breath. A heron frequents the wetlands near the trout stream, stabbling small fish and sluggish frogs. On warm nights frogs croak and peep from the low places, their voices a preview of their discordant passion to come. Heard a couple of barred owls yesterday. Spied one perched in a nearby willow branch, bobbing its head angrily at me, the intruder. A hammering in the woods led me to a pileated woodpecker making a perfectly round hole the size of a salt dish. The birds stake out their territories and claim them with song. We could benefit from emulation. The previous week Daniel had asked what she was writing, and she’d printed off a few descriptive passages. “Can I have these?” he’d asked. “What for?” she’d asked in surprise. “To read.” He’d taken them with him to work.

When he later showed her the column in the Tamarack Gazette with her name at the top and handed her a twenty-five-dollar check, he said, “They’d like more.” She was thrilled and embarrassed at the same time, thinking the words she’d written flowery and pretentious. “You’re blushing, Carly. Why?” “I didn’t mean for other people to read what I write.” “Twenty-five bucks a week for doing what you like to do is nothing to sneeze at.” “I know. Why did you bother, Dan?” She looked into his sea-green eyes. He grunted, his turn to look flustered. “Wanted to surprise you.” She took his hand briefly before he pulled it away. “You are a nice guy.” “That’s more like it,” he said gruffly. Now she sat at the table, the Mac in front of her, its pebbled screen waiting, and her mind went blank. Going outside, she walked down to the wetlands where the heron stood among last year’s cattails. It squawked in alarm or indignation and flew off on heavy wings, its neck crooked, its legs dangling. The dark red twigs of dogwood bushes brightened the old growth. When she returned to the house, the phone was ringing. Serena’s voice elicited a leap of excitement. “Jess just left on a run. I could use some help.” “Tomorrow morning,” she promised, her heart thudding. “I don’t have to be at the minimart until noon.”

A haze hung over the grass the following morning. That and the blue sky promised a warm day. Parking in front of the barn, Carly got out of the Saturn and headed toward the house where Serena had been leaning out of the kitchen door a moment ago, inviting her in for coffee. Carly knocked lightly before letting herself in. A steaming mug of coffee had been set in front of an empty chair as if Serena had poured it and hurried back to her own seat before Carly came in the door. Serena’s face was still soft from sleep, her lips a little swollen, the skin around her eyes slightly puffy. Her hair stood in disarray, and she was hunched over her cup with her cheek in her hand. She gestured at the chair. “Sit down. Some days it’s just hard to wake up.” “Do you want me to go away and come back later?” Carly asked. There were things waiting to do at home. She sipped the hot coffee. It was strong, black. “God, no. I haven’t seen you in a couple weeks.” Serena straightened, then collapsed in on herself again, but not before Carly saw the cheek she was cupping. “What happened?” she asked. “I have a favor to ask you,” Serena glanced at the dog who pressed himself against Carly’s leg. “Can you take Queenie for a while?” “What?” she asked. “Why?” “He bit Jess. Actually he grabbed his jeans.” A quirk of a smile appeared in the corners of Serena’s mouth. “He did what?” She glanced at Queenie, who trembled slightly under her touch. “Jess said he’d better be gone when he gets back.”

“Jess hit you, didn’t he?” she said, flatly certain. “That’s why Queenie bit him. I thought you said Queenie adored him.” “Not after being booted. I think Queenie’s sore. He’s so downcast.” “And I always thought a dog was a good judge of character.” “Not so. A dog will crawl back to whoever kicks it, if that’s the hand that feeds it. Queenie forgot himself, is all. We all do sometimes.” Queenie should have gone for Jess’s neck, she thought wryly. Intermittently sipping her coffee, she caressed the dog’s ears, silently praising him. “What happened after the painting incident? Did he hit you then, too?” Carly asked. “No. He was sorry after. He always is. I need your help here, Carly. Don’t desert me.” Carly knew she wouldn’t and, with a start, realized that she was hooked. She believed in being a good friend. Why should she let Jess keep her away when Serena wanted her to be here? When she looked at Serena again, her mouth went dry. “I thought you needed my help this morning.” With eyes slightly hooded, her grin crooked, Serena looked lustful. “I do. But first things first.” “Isn’t this a bit risky?” Carly asked, her pulse gone wild. “Why? No one needs to know.” Serena stood up and almost lazily stretched a hand toward her. “Come on.” “What if he finds out?” Jess would do worse than just kick them. But Carly got up anyway, took Serena’s hand, which was warm and dry, and followed her down the dark hall to a bedroom lit by sunshine filtering through tree branches.

“This is the guest room,” Serena said. Carly nodded, trying to breathe, to get a handle on her reflexes. She wasn’t prepared for this. “I can’t.” “Sure you can.” When they were out of their clothes and lying on the bed, bisected by a shaft of light, Carly found herself reacting to desire without much thought. It was obvious that she wasn’t Serena’s first woman, but at the moment she didn’t feel like asking about the others. She knew when Hoity Toity jumped on the bed, because the cat meowed a few times before settling down near their feet. Afterward, she lay in the crook of Serena’s arm and waited for her own breathing and pulse to steady. A sense of wonder made her ask, “Did you plan this?” “No. It came to me how much I wanted you just then as we sat at the table.” “Shall we get to work now?” Serena glanced at her watch. When she left for the minimart, Carly asked, “When do you want me to take Queenie?” “Any time before Jess gets home.” Serena put a hand on the dog’s head. “I hope he doesn’t miss me as much as I’ll miss him.” “Maybe Jess will change his mind when he sees he’s gone.” “I have to do this. Don’t talk me out of it.” She understood. Next time, Jess might kill the dog.

VII After a trip to pick up stock from a prairie nursery, Serena and Carly filled water tanks for bare-root dogwood bushes. They mounded the sandy soil around rows of tree and bush roots balled-and-burlapped. The place had taken on the look of a nursery. Flowering trays of potted plants stood on trestles supported by sawhorses in the temporary greenhouse. The inside of the barn was as finished as it was going to be. If it was a little dark, the large open doors compensated, and Jess had mounted track lights along the walls and rafters. A coffeepot on the counter, along with cookies, offered hospitality to those who dropped in. And Serena had placed signs at strategic junctions to point the way to Castle Nursery. Mid-May, opening week, Carly left the minimart at three and went home to change. When Carly walked up the sandy driveway, she saw Serena out back with a customer, and Carly made her way along the rows to where they stood looking at a lilac bush. “Should I get the wheelbarrow?” she asked when the woman said she’d take the plant. “Would you?” Serena asked, beginning to dig out the rootball. When the woman drove away with the lilac bush poking out of her trunk, Carly sat with Serena on the railroad ties placed to prevent people from driving into the barn. It was one of those perfect May days, warm but not hot, and freshened by a summery breeze. Whining softly, Queenie nosed his way between Serena’s legs, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thanks for taking him in and for bringing him back when you come.” “What did Jess say when he found the dog gone?” “Nothing.” Serena’s voice broke. “He brought me flowers.”

The day Carly had taken the dog home with her, Queenie wandered through the first-floor rooms and then stood at the door, waiting to be let out, his tail wagging slowly. “You can’t go home, Queenie. I’m sorry.” She’d laid a hand on the dog’s head. Dan, who’d been watching from a chair, said, “Give him a yummy.” After a few days, Queenie had seemed to accept his new home. When she left for the minimart, though, she either tied him to a porch post or left him inside, depending on how long it would be before someone returned. Memorial Day weekend, Janie and Francine arrived in time for dinner Friday night. Queenie met them at the door, his tail wagging so hard his body swung with it. Although Francie was not much taller than the dog, she hugged him by his neck, Queenie licked her face till she sputtered and turned away to wipe her mouth. “Nice dog. Got some age on him, though, doesn’t he?” Janie remarked, apparently mystified as to why Carly had chosen a dog whose years were obviously numbered. “I didn’t buy him. His owner couldn’t keep him, so he’s ours now ​ fully housetrained, well mannered, friendly. What more could you ask for in a dog?” “Where’s Uncle Dan?” “At work. We’re going to eat at the hotel tonight. Is that all right?” “Sure.” “First we better take Queenie for a walk.” Queenie always hesitated when he went outside, glancing first down the road toward Serena’s. Across the trout stream, deer hightailed it into the

woods and sandhill cranes took flight as Francie ran ahead along the path lined with grass almost as tall as she was. Her small hand clutched the dog’s collar. Queenie could have run off; instead, he slowed his pace to hers. “Cute, aren’t they?” Carly said with a smile. “How are things?” “Matt got a new girlfriend. Francie says she doesn’t like her. Maybe he won’t want her every other holiday. I should have thought about this division of her life.” “How’s the job?” Even after numerous explanations, Carly still wasn’t sure exactly what her daughter did for her employers, only that it had something to do with computer software. “I got a raise and a small promotion. I’m in training and education now, instead of product marketing.” Janie turned toward her. “And you?” She shrugged. “Same old, same old.” It was a white lie, of course. Nothing was the same anymore. “You can do better than the minimart, Mom. Dan sent me your column. You could be working for the paper.” “Did he? He’s full of surprises,” she said, thinking dryly that she could be writing the society page or maybe covering local politics. What fun! At the hotel Dan had saved them a table on the deck that overlooked the millpond. Francie hadn’t wanted to leave Queenie behind, but she perked up when Dan showed her the kitchen and let her carry her plate to the table. Dan took time away from the stove to sit with them. The sun hung low enough to shine in their eyes. Francie made friends with a little girl at the next table, and they leaned over the railing throwing bread to the ducks quacking below. “I have to work tomorrow,” she told Janie.

“That’s okay. I’ll be fine. In fact, I’ll fix supper. Will you be home, Uncle Dan?” “At eight. The hours of a chef are not conducive to eating at home, but I’ll be around most of the day when your mother’s gone.” Saturday when Carly got home from work at three, the dog was gone. Janie met her at the door with a worried look. Francie had let Queenie outside. “He ran down the road.” Francie pointed. “I know where he is,” she told them. The question was whether she should go get him or let well enough alone. Maybe if she went with her daughter and granddaughter, the situation would be defused. The day was filled with sunshine and stirred by a soft breeze. Carly listened absentmindedly to Francie’s chatter and Janie’s responses as they walked. She feared a confrontation at the nursery and shrank from it. Halfway there, she saw Serena and Queenie heading their way. Introducing her daughter and granddaughter, she met Serena’s eyes with a smile. “Sorry about Queenie.” “Me, too.” Serena turned to the others. “I’ve heard about you two. It’s always nice to put faces to people. Don’t you think?” “We heard about you, too. How do you like it here?” Janie said. “Love it. Your mother’s been a big help.” Serena glanced down the road behind her. “Jess went to town. Thought I’d better bring the dog back.” “We’ll keep a sharper eye on him,” Carly promised. On the way back, Francie insisted on holding the old dog’s leash. Carly was sure that Queenie hadn’t been restrained in years, that he was confused by it but too polite to resist.

“Is this Serena’s dog?” Janie asked. She shot a look at her daughter. “Yes.” “Her husband doesn’t want him?” “That’s right.” “Is he allergic to him or something?” “No.” “Come on, Mom. Cough it up.” Janie sounded annoyed. “You don’t just discard your dog, not when he’s such an old dear.” “Some people do,” she said, becoming irritated herself. Queenie stopped and gave her a questioning look, then continued his plodding gait toward the house on Tamarack Creek. Carry’s heart wrenched for him. “Her husband sounds like a winner. I’d keep the dog and tell him to move out,” her daughter said. Carly smiled wryly. “I would too.” Janie and Francine left late Monday afternoon, Francie’s face pressed against the darkened glass in the backseat. They drove off in a swirl of sand, and Carly stood in the driveway with a lifted hand until the van was lost from sight, glad that Queenie was by her side. Daniel had said his good-byes earlier in the day before leaving for work. Pouring herself a glass of wine, she took the bottle and a book out to a lawn chair set in a sunny spot in the side yard that led down to the trout stream.

The old dog lay panting, stretched out nearby. He seemed to have given himself up to his fate with a resignation that saddened her. She wished she could make him understand. When Dan drove in and plopped himself in the chair next to her, she was more than ordinarily glad to see him. “Were you lonely before I moved here?” she asked. “I got used to being alone years ago.” He lifted her glass. “Mind if I share?” She smiled and shook her head. “As long as you’re not contagious with something.” “I think Jess is gone again. The truck wasn’t there. I almost stopped and asked Serena to dinner. What’s to eat anyway?” “Leftovers.” “Should I call her?” “If you want,” she said offhandedly, but her immediate physical reaction told her that she was anything but cool and casual. Her palms began to sweat, and a smile crept across her face. “You like her, don’t you?” he asked quietly, searching her face. “She’s married, Dan.” As if anyone needed a reminder. She could have told him then that she and Serena had been intimate, but she was reluctant to do so. She didn’t want to risk his disapproval; it would tarnish her pleasure. He got up. “I’ll call.” Serena walked over, sending Queenie into paroxysms of joy, and she and Dan and Carly sat in the lawn chairs finishing off the bottle of wine before going inside to heat up the food.

They ate at the picnic table on the patio out back. Moths battered themselves against the feeble overhead light, and an early June bug buzzed upside down on the table until Dan flicked it off. Gnats annoyingly circled in halos around their heads. “If it crunches, spit it out,” Dan said. “When did Jess leave?” “Midafternoon.” Serena’s hand rested on Queenie’s head, which the dog had rested in her lap. Carly nodded at the dog. “He misses you terribly. He doesn’t understand.” “I know. I miss him as much.” Serena smiled wistfully, a moth resting on her hair like a pale decoration. “What time do you leave for work, Carly?” “Seven-thirty.” “I need a hand tomorrow morning early, moving some stuff.” “How early?” she asked. “Sixish.” Shortly after five, she closed the side door quietly behind her, and, with Queenie, crossed the log to the public land. Fragile spider webs, spun overnight, glistened with dew. They would vanish in the sunlight, only to be refabricated that evening. Moisture lay heavy on the grass, dampening her feet through her tennies. A battered Jeep was parked in the small lot by the road. It belonged to the old man she often came upon during her early morning walks. He replied to her quiet hello with a nod and a smile. His waders stood thigh deep in the icy water, and he whipped his pole forward and back. The line, shimmering with water, rose and fell in a graceful arc. She passed by with the dog, her jeans wet at the ankles with morning dew.

Just as a field of sunflowers turns so that the bobbing heads are always facing the sun, the orange and yellow hawkweed opens its petals with the sun’s rays and closes them when the direct light disappears. She walked to the edge of the woods, then retraced her steps past the old man to recross the log and head up the hill to the house. Dan had made coffee. He was leaning against the sink, eating a piece of toast. “You’re up early.” She poured herself some coffee and headed for the shower. “You’ll be home before I will today.” “I’ll stop by the nursery after work,” he said. She left shortly after Dan did. Parking in front of the closed gate, she walked up the driveway and knocked on the kitchen door. “Come in,” Serena called. Serena stood in the doorway across the room dressed in soft cotton knit shorts and an undershirt that clung to her. Her dark nipples showed through the material. She crossed her arms under her breasts, lifting them. Carly stared at her, mouth dry, throat full. “You don’t look ready to work.” “Shut the door,” Serena said, her voice husky. “We have more than an hour.” The latch closed behind her. “What if…” and she forgot what she meant to ask. “Come here,” Serena commanded. Moving across the room as if in slow motion, Carly closed the distance between them. “What if what?” Serena reached out and took hold of her upper arms, drawing her close, kissing her.

“Jess … I don’t think we should …” “He won’t be back for days.” “But he came back early that night we painted.” “Trust me.” Carly allowed herself to be drawn down the hall to the spare bedroom with the double bed. “I come here nights when I can’t sleep, and I think of you.” Serena led her to the bed. She ran her fingers through Serena’s hair while Serena removed her shoes, the chinos and clean shirt she had put on for work, the hiphuggers and undershirt underneath. The room was cool, and she shivered as Serena pulled her own undershirt over her head. She moved to hold Serena’s breasts; they overflowed her palms, warm and full and dense. Letting go, she slid the shorts down Serena’s legs where they fell to the rag rug. Serena leaned over and pulled back the bedding, baring sheets cool against Carry’s skin as she slid between them. She lay on her side, facing Serena, looking into the warm brown of her eyes. Again the cat joined them, curling up at their feet, meowing when she was jostled. Serena’s hands were large, capable, and Carly thought once again, too knowledgeable to not have done this before. The excitement they generated became so intense that she lost control and came quickly. Spent, she lay in the crook of Serena’s arm, her head against one breast, her hand cradling the other. “I’m not your first woman, am I?” she asked. Serena sighed. Carly was unable to tell whether the sigh was generated by

satisfaction or the question. “No.” “But you’re married,” she said. “So were you,” Serena pointed out. “So I was,” she whispered, remembering her coming out when she could no longer remain in the marriage no matter how much she cared for John. But like a dog with a bone, she couldn’t let go. “Where is this heading?” Serena replied, “I don’t know. Does it matter? I feel like I’ve been run over by a train.” “What does that mean?” she asked. “I can’t walk away from you.” “Why don’t you walk away from Jess?” “I’ve tried. He always finds me.” Serena’s eyes darkened, and vertical lines appeared between them. “You can’t just tell him you want out?” She frowned too. That’s what she had done with John. Serena let out a snort. “He’ll never let me go.” Carly swung her feet off the bed and was stopped by Serena’s hand on her arm. “If there’s no future, what’s the point?” she said sulkily. “Come on, Carly. I need you.” “I need you too,” she admitted. Before leaving for work, she asked, “Is this how it’s going to be for us? Catch-as-catch-can?”

“For now, it has to be.” Serena smiled. They had showered and dressed together. Serena wore shorts and a Tshirt with brightly colored frogs on it, reminding Carly of the amphibian voices rising from the wetlands on warm nights. Alone in the minimart, she paced the aisles and leaned on the counter, staring out the window at the millpond across the street. She was reliving the events of the morning, her eyelids so heavy with remembered lust that she was sure customers could see on her face what she had done. In the late afternoon, she lit out of there, knowing that she would see Serena in less than an hour. Forgotten were her worries about where the relationship was heading. The early June sun beat down with a surprising intensity; it was the only thing she noticed as she squinted during the drive home. She parked on the far side of the barn next to the Ford pickup, where Jess usually parked his truck. The boy that Serena had hired was digging up a crab apple tree and loading it into the wheelbarrow in the rows behind the barn, while a woman selected flats of flowers in the greenhouse. Carly found Serena in the barn, ringing up two trays of tomato slips and herbs. The sale of garden and flowering plants was going strong with the worry of frost over. “At work all I could think about was this morning,” she admitted when Serena returned from helping the woman carry out the flats. “I was sure everyone could see on my face what we did.” Serena laughed. “We’ll have to do it enough times so that it doesn’t show. I’m going out to help Brad dig up an order. Can you stay in here?” She nodded. Instead of remaining at the counter, though, she sat in one of the plastic chairs Serena had placed outside the barn doors. From there she could watch for customers, hear the phone ring, and see Serena and Brad at work.

When Dan’s pickup turned into the drive and parked in front of the barn, she wanted to tell him about Serena. He would understand, she was sure. But when she started to speak, she found herself reluctant to share this part of her life yet. Understanding didn’t preclude his disapproval. She wasn’t ready for that. She’d hold the knowledge of Serena closer to her awhile longer.

VIII Three weeks passed, bringing her to the last full week in June. She had thought her desire would lessen in that time, but it still consumed her. When Jess was home, sometimes for days, she ached at having to stay away. He had left Monday on a run to Iowa. On Tuesday, an overcast and cool morning with the birds in full song outside the window, Carly lay with Serena in the guest room, briefly satiated. Their lovemaking, always a little desperate, became frantic after a few days separation. Janie and Francie were coming for the fourth of July weekend, and no doubt Jess would be home for the holiday. It would mean more time away from Serena. Glancing at her watch, she rolled out of bed and looked down at Serena with a mix of longing and despair that translated into a dull pain. “Spend the evening with me. Dan will be late.” “Time to leave already?” Serena stretched and smiled languidly. “Want me to bring anything for supper?” “I’ll take care of it.” Reluctantly, Carly turned away and reached for her clothes. Thunder rumbled all day and lightning flickered on the horizon, but the rain held off as the temperature rose. That evening she and Serena walked on the public land with Queenie till the mosquitoes drove them into the house. “Want to give my bed a try?” Carly said. Dan was at work. “I thought you’d never ask.” It was afterward, when they were eating leftovers in the kitchen, the windows dark with night at last on this longest day of the year, that Queenie lifted his head, his ears perking as he lay on the linoleum. A whine climbed

his throat. The open windows caught a hint of a breeze, and more than a few gnats made their way through the screening to flock around the overhead light. Serena stared at the dog, a look of fear on her face. “Jess,” she whispered. Carly’s breath stopped in her throat, and her heart made a painful lunge against her ribs as if trying to escape. But then they heard Dan’s truck drive in. The door slammed tinnily, and he scratched at the screen in passing. “If I owned a gun, you’d be asking for bullets in the butt,” Carly called. A big grin split Dan’s face when he entered the kitchen. “See anyone out there?” Carly asked. “Nope. Should I have?” He rummaged through the fridge, made himself a sandwich, and sat with them. “What did you two do this evening?” Serena caught her eyes with a smile, and Carly’s gaze flashed to Dan. He knew, she saw, and she wished she’d told him herself. Serena glanced at the clock. “I better go. It’s ten-thirty.” “I’ll give you a ride,” Dan offered, and, looking relieved, Serena took him up on it. Soft rain was falling when he returned. “Was Jess home?” Carly asked on her way up the stairs to bed with Queenie on her heels. “Nope.” He stood at the bottom of the steps with eyebrows lofted and

hands on hips. “Carly …” She turned. “What?” “I’m afraid for you. Be discreet, will you?” She nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” “I don’t tell you about my affairs,” he said. Wide-awake, she listened to the patter on the leaves, the distant thunder, and saw the lightning behind her tightly closed lids. Rain usually put her to sleep, but she kept remembering the alarm on Serena’s face as she’d whispered Jess’s name. Had he been outside watching them? The next morning the ditches were filled with freshly washed wildflowers ​ hawkweed, spiderwort, vetch, chicory, daylilies ​ waving in the sunlight. The sandy soil soaked up any but the most torrential rainfall, leaving few telling puddles. Parking behind the barn in Jess’s empty spot, Carly walked to the house and let herself in. Serena smiled tiredly as she poured coffee. “You look beat too.” “I am,” Carly admitted. “Let me make breakfast instead of love.” “I’d be too nervous anyway.” Carly wished she were home catching up on her journal. It had suffered because of these early morning trysts. Serena pulled a large frying pan from the bottom drawer of the stove. “Pancakes or eggs?” “I’m not hungry.” She was, though. “Has he done this before? Spied on you?”

Serena looked at her out of dull eyes. “Once or twice when he suspected something.” Fear rippled down her spine. “I think I’ll go home.” “Will you come later?” Serena put the pan back in the drawer and closed it. “After work,” she promised, watching the pan disappear with a pang of hunger. At home she stared out the open kitchen windows at the sunny day and asked herself questions. Was an illicit relationship what she wanted this late in life? Would Serena think she was forcing her hand if she insisted on more? Could she demand anything? Did she want to? She had no answers yet. That afternoon, Carly helped Brad and Serena dig a large order and carry the fruit trees and bushes in wheelbarrows to the barn where they would be picked up early the next day. “We need a little flatbed trailer to hook onto the garden tractor,” Serena said, her T-shirt soaked with sweat under her armpits and breasts. Carly found it difficult to keep her focus off those damp spots. She’d snapped at everything Serena had said so far and now remarked acidly, “Maybe Jess will buy you one.” “What gives?” Serena asked when Brad drove off. “Nothing,” she said, a little appalled with herself. Here she was forty-seven years old and still sulking. “I know what you need. Come on.” Serena started toward the house. The answer as to whether she could give this up came to her as, swamped with desire, she trailed after Serena. A hot, hot Friday preceded the Fourth of July weekend. Jess was home;

she’d seen his truck tractor when she passed the nursery on her way to the minimart, and she wondered if he and Serena were still in bed. It was not something she wanted to dwell on. “Come over this weekend if you get a chance,” she’d said to Serena the day before. “I’ll try,” Serena had promised with an absentminded smile, and Carly had felt abandoned although she had been the one leaving. It was two when she left work, and the day had turned into a breathless, shimmering haze of heat. The millpond resembled a piece of dull glass with algae gathering along its edges. She noticed Jess’s truck again when she returned home, even caught sight of him standing outside the barn. Seeing him made him real. He was the one who belonged there, not her, and she felt a moment of despair before resolutely banishing it. She had no doubts that Serena wanted her, even loved her. At home, Queenie lay on the porch, a rope fastening him to a post. She unhooked him, told him as she did every time that she was sorry he had to be tied. He wagged his tail in a subdued imitation of his former greeting. Always, he was looking down the road toward Serena’s as if waiting to return to his former life. “Company tonight,” she said. “Let’s go get things ready.” A cold dinner awaited Janie and Francie’s arrival: potato salad, coleslaw, sliced turkey breast, and homemade bread. Unable to fend off hunger, Carly had eaten some of everything while sitting in the lawn chair, washing it down with a cold vodka and tonic. Only her daughter drove in the driveway. Francine had gone to Six Flags Amusement Park with her dad, Janie explained. “In this heat?” she said. “Is Matt nuts?” Janie shrugged. “That’s the way it is. I get her one holiday, he the next. I

thought he wasn’t going to take her, but then he did. Of course she couldn’t resist Great America, although she asked me to give Queenie and you hugs.” They went inside to mix Janie a drink and bring out some food for her, and then they sat in the still hot sun. Not a breeze stirred their hair or whispered across their faces. “God, it was boiling in Madison,” Janie said. “You are so lucky to be here, Mom.” “How was the wedding?” It had taken place the first weekend in June. Janie smiled thinly. “Okay. Francie was cute.” “Did you bring pictures?” “No, Mom. I forgot.” “Next time then,” she said, wanting to see this woman John had married. Janie sighed. Out of habit Carly was up by five o’clock, walking the land. She tried not to wonder if Serena was making love with Jess, still sleeping, or drinking coffee. She’d never asked her about her sex life with Jess. It was odd, this intense affair that felt so right when they were together but which they hid so carefully. As she neared the woods and turned back, she saw Janie striding toward her along the two-lane path flanked by waist-high grass. “Wait up, Mom.” As they closed the distance between them, she said, “I thought you’d want to sleep in.” The old man, standing knee-deep in the stream, waved. He was nearly always there when she went on her wildlife walks now, his fly

rod whipping back and forth as he played out the glistening line in graceful arcs. It was an art that he had mastered. “Not when I’m here. Want to walk back to the woods?” “Sure.” A morning breeze rippled the grasses, a barely dis-cernable flutter on her skin. The rest of the weekend flew by in a haze of heat. She and Janie took to the icy waters of the trout stream for relief from the heat. Serena walked over Monday morning, and Queenie rushed to greet her. How forgiving, Carly thought as her heart lurched into fast forward. Dan, who was cooking breakfast, invited Serena to join them. Janie showed an immediate liking for her. Shaking Serena’s hand, she said, “I’ve always wanted to work for myself.” Serena laughed. “It’s a lot of work and worry, being the boss. Anyway, you’ve got lots of time to do that if you want to. What kind of business would you have?” Carly stood to one side, listening with interest. Janie shrugged. “I’ve got to figure that out first.” They ate at the picnic table, enjoying the morning’s cool respite that would burn away as the day progressed. When Serena gave Carly a small, private smile across the breakfast fare, Carly caught Janie’s questioning gaze out of the corner of her eye. Janie left late in the afternoon. “I like Serena, but I don’t like the vibes I’m getting,” she whispered into Carly’s ear. “Be careful.” “Always,” she replied. “Love you, sweetie.”

IX Carly’s affair with Serena was a little over a month old. Perhaps it was too soon to expect more than what had become a routine: rising early to walk and write in her journal, going to Serena’s to make love (if Jess was gone), working at the minimart, returning to the nursery afterward (if Jess was on the road). Already she longed for a monotonous life with this woman, one where they would wake up in the same bed, eat meals across the table from each other, plan a future together. When Daniel worked late, Carly stayed on at the nursery after closing. Those evenings she and Serena ate together and made slow love afterward. On July 5, following the long weekend, they lay in a drying pool of sweat as the shadow of the tree outside the window crept across the ceiling and far wall. A slight wind had kicked up so that the leaves shimmied and spun on the wallpaper. Outside, a rustling competed with cicadas and tree-hoppers. At first Carly thought it was the breeze in the trees, but then she wasn’t sure and lay very still trying to place the sound. It rasped like fingernails against the siding. A sudden scraping against the screen brought Serena and her to sitting positions. “What was that?” she whispered. “Sh,” Serena hissed. Rolling off the bed and pulling on shorts and a T-shirt, she threw Carly her clothes. On their knees, they made the bed. They crawled out of the bedroom, washed separately in the bathroom, and ambled in exaggerated casualness to the kitchen as if they’d just left the living room where the blinds were drawn and lights were lit. The haunting strains of Rachmaninoff’s Second Symphony being played on radio followed them down the hall.

“I better go,” Carly said uneasily, trying not to look around. “It’s been a long day. Thanks for dinner.” “Let me walk you out to your car.” Serena crossed her arms, a tight smile on her face. Carly wished she’d brought Queenie with her. If Jess lurked among the shadows, the dog would know, but she had left the dog home because it seemed easier for him not to come than to be here and have to leave again. She was glad for the dusk-to-dawn light that held the coming night at bay. “Want a ride back to the house?” she asked, as she slid in the car. Even if it was only a hundred feet away or so, it seemed like the safe thing to do. “I’ll walk next to you,” Serena eyes darted off to the side. “Are you going to be all right?” Carly asked quietly. “Should I come in the morning?” Serena shook her head. Carly went home, bereft, scared, helpless to do anything to protect Serena should she need it. Queenie met her inside the door. “I think I know what you feel like, buddy.” Half expecting Jess to be hiding in the dark, she locked the door and rushed around turning on all the lights. Where the hell was Dan? She left the rooms blazing as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. For a long time, she lay stiffly awake, listening to the night, separating out the natural sounds of insects and wind and night creatures. As she drifted off to sleep, she heard a grating on the screen of her open window. Jerking awake, she crept out of bed and across the floor while the dog watched with lifted head. She pulled down the sash and locked the frame and then did the same to the other windows. Climbing back between the sheets, she felt as if she were consuming all the air, that she might suffocate. Then

something ​ pebbles or branches ​ began striking the screen and surrounding siding. Queenie whined. Sometime during the early morning hours, long after the night had gone quiet again, she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. The next morning Dan’s door was open when she got up and padded down the stairs to let Queenie outside. She stood on the porch, her arms wrapping her short robe around her as she waited for Queenie to stop nosing around and come back inside so that she could pee. Inside with the dog, she reached for the bathroom doorknob and felt it turn in her hand. She nearly bumped into the man emerging from the bathroom before she realized he wasn’t her brother. The two stood looking at each other in the hallway next to the stairs. He was short, dark, hairy, and young. His dark brown eyes were framed by curly lashes, his skin was burned nearly black by the sun, and his chin and cheeks sprouted a fledgling beard. Chicano, she thought. He recovered first, probably because she wasn’t the surprise that he was. “Hi. I’m Andrew.” Extending a hand, he picked hers up from where it hung at her side and shook it firmly. “You must be Carly.” Then he grinned, showing teeth white against the dark contrast of his face. “The restaurant supply salesman,” she said, her voice hoarse with sleep. “Right,” he said, the grin still in place. “Don’t let me keep you.” He gestured toward the open bathroom. “Ah yes.” She scurried inside and closed the door behind her. When she came out, he was nowhere in sight. She opened the windows in her bedroom before dressing and returning downstairs. Outside, she surveyed the siding and the grass beneath her windows. No sign anyone had been there the night before. How was it that ominously unexplainable

sounds in the night could be rendered harmless, even foolish, in the next day’s light? She crossed the creek with the dog. Dewy webs strung between tall grass shimmered delicately. Queenie plodded along beside her, his tongue hanging out. She worried about his lack of enthusiasm for anything, hardly showing interest in the deer grazing near the woods. Nevertheless, the deer showed the white undersides of their tails and fled into the trees. “Having any luck?” she asked the fisherman, who stood in the fast flowing stream. He nodded toward the creel resting on the grassy banks. “Take a look.” Inside were two fish. “Brook trout. Want one?” He stopped shagging out the line, and it fell to float on the surface as he stepped nearer. “Makes a good breakfast.” She looked at the fish doubtfully. If they weren’t already dead, she’d have opted to free them, but the old man looked so pleased at having made the offer. “I’ll clean it,” he said, and before she could protest, he gutted the fish. “There.” He held it out to her, head and tail intact, and she took it. “Dip it in some egg and flour and fry it in a little oil.” She smiled and thanked him before moving off. In the kitchen she laid the fish on the counter and made coffee. Turning on the radio to listen toMorning Edition, she heard Andrew and Dan talking. She saw them before they did her, their heads bent together ​ Dan’s shaggy and graying, Andrew’s black and vibrant.

“I hear you already met.” Dan’s face, although sagging from lack of sleep, shone with happiness. He wore baggy shorts and a shapeless T-shirt. His big feet were bare. Andrew was dressed in shorts that fit with a T-shirt tucked neatly into them. He wore sandals. The contrast between the two men struck her as incompatible. The dog ambled to Andrew and nosed his crotch. Andrew stroked the large head gently. “Hey, Queenie,” he said softly. “How’s it going?” She smiled, then nodded at the fish. “We have trout for breakfast, Dan. Can you fix it?” “Who gave us this wonderful gift?” he said with too much enthusiasm. If love turned him gushy, she would hate it. “The fisherman I see every morning.” She poured a cup of coffee and offered it to Andrew. While the trout sizzled on the stove, Dan fried leftover fettuccine and broke eggs. At home in the kitchen, he hummed as he cooked. “Why were all the lights on last night? Were you scared or something?” “Yeah. Lots of unexplained noises.” “Did you get home late?” “It was dark. Where were you?” She was sitting at the kitchen table, nursing her cup of coffee, and feeling a little sheepish. “We were at the Casino. Bobby and His Band were playing old favorites. You weren’t worried, were you?” “Just curious.” She turned to Andrew, who was sitting at the other end of the table. “You like big band?”

“Yes. I like to dance.” “You danced?” she asked with surprise. Andrew bared his white teeth in a grin. “With the ladies. Dan, too.” She laughed at the mental image. “Not fair, is it?” “Nothing’s fair, Carly,” Andrew said ruefully. “You’re too young to say that.” She’d have to ask Dan how young. “Whenever I complained about anything, my mother told me life wasn’t fair.” “What time do you have to be at work?” Dan asked, putting the food on the table. He divided the portions into thirds and filled their plates. “Eat.” “Ten,” she said, swallowing, surprised at how good it all tasted. She’d never have figured fish, pasta, and eggs would go together. “And you?” “I have the day off,” Dan said, smiling at Andrew. She looked from one to the other with envy. If there hadn’t been those sounds in the night, she’d be at Serena’s right now. On the way to the minimart through the already hot, muggy morning, she looked for Jess’s truck tractor in the driveway. When it wasn’t there, she pulled in and parked in front of the barn. Serena’s face lit with pleasure, and she held up a finger until she finished her phone conversation before asking, “How was your night?” “Scary,” Carly said. “Someone was outside throwing things at my window. How was yours?” “The same.” Serena looked apologetic. “Dan brought a guy home with him.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe

how young and handsome he is.” Serena gave her a rueful smile. “Will you be over after work?” “Why don’t you come over? I won’t be home till after six. You can meet Andrew.” She searched Serena’s face. “Do you think it was Jess last night?” “I don’t know.” “But it’s possible?” Serena shrugged and said, “Where’s his truck then?” “Can’t you call and see if he’s on a run?” “He doesn’t always haul for the same company.” She glanced at her watch and backed toward the door. “I’ve got to go. We’ll talk later.”

X July turned into August, and nothing changed except the shortening daylight and the ever-altering landscape. The days continued hot, and even though rainfall was above average, Serena was forced to water because of the sandy soil and burning sun. In lieu of installing an expensive irrigation system, Serena, Brad, and Carly strung perforated hoses along the rows of trees and bushes and moved them every two hours. While Serena had turned the color of dark toast, Carly had burned a light reddish brown despite layers of sunblock. The freckles on her nose and cheeks had darkened. On her way to the minimart one morning, she glimpsed something dark blue hidden in a grove of trees. It was a place where she’d gone berry picking in the past, the site of an abandoned farm with only foundations where the house and barn had been. An adrenaline rush raced through her, causing an instant headache. She nearly ended up in the ditch, peering down the overgrown drive at what she at first thought was a backdrop of sky. Backing up, she turned into the lane and bounced along cautiously to within fifteen feet of the huge truck tractor, its fifth wheel black and greasy, its chrome muffler pointing toward the lighter blue of the sky. Turning around in the swishing grass that had once been lawn, jerking the Saturn in her hurry to get away, she locked the car doors, rolled up the window, and looked about furtively. All too well she remembered that only a couple of hours ago she and Serena had made love in the spare bedroom. Had Jess been watching? How often had he been parked here when they’d thought he was on a run? She felt exposed, sullied. Worse, she knew that she would never feel free of his prying eyes. After work, she found Serena in the barn, stocking shelves. “I’ve got to talk to you.”

Serena paused, unpacking containers of Jobe’s Fertilizer Spikes. “Sounds serious.” She lowered her voice. “I saw Jess’s truck hidden in a grove of trees on the way to work this morning.” “What?” Serena looked up sharply. The boxes fell to the floor, and they both bent to pick them up. “I drove in just to be certain. He wasn’t there.” She shuddered to think what might have happened had she run into him. She had noticed that Jess’s actions were never as surprising to Serena as they were to her. What he was doing now, Carry figured he had done on other occasions. “Has this happened before?” “Every time I think it’s going to be different.” Serena whispered as if to herself. “What do you mean?” she asked sharply. How could she protect herself or Serena if she was kept in the dark? How could she safeguard them anyway? It was foolish to think she had any power over Jess’s actions. Serena’s eyes darted into the dark corners. “God, I hate this.” “I’m scared of him, Serena. Aren’t you?” “Let’s go out back.” They walked to the field of prairie perennials that Serena had planted. Butterfly weed, bee balm, fireweed, goldenrod, coneflowers, and joe-pye weed bloomed in a profusion of color. The buzzing of bees filled the air. From there they could see the parking lot, yet be safe from listening ears. No one could hide in a field of flowers. “He’s watched me since the beginning of our marriage. He’s seldom

physically violent, but he does get pretty wretched in the mouth.” “How physically violent?” Serena’s eyes looked murky, unreadable. “Once in a while when he’s really angry, he slaps me around a little. No broken bones or anything.” Appalled, Carly asked, “Why did you marry him?” “Jess doesn’t take no for an answer.” Serena’s beautiful mouth stretched into a bitter smile. “We could run away,” Carly said, but she didn’t want to disappear and live in fear of being found. She wanted to stay here with Serena and have Jess go away. Serena shook her head. “I tried that once. It’s pretty easy to find someone.” “I guess we better cool it then.” What they ought to do was end their affair before they both became victims of Jess’s anger, but she was stubbornly unwilling to sever the connection. She, not Jess, belonged with Serena. “Come on.” Serena took her hand and led her into a nearby grove of pines. The redolent needles were thick underfoot. “I can’t, Serena. Who knows where he is?” And Serena backed off. “What did you mean when you said he doesn’t take no for an answer? That’s no reason to marry somebody.” Serena stared out through the pines at the flower heads nodding in the small breeze. “At first I thought all the attention and the jealousy were signs of his love. I’d never met anyone who cared so much about who I saw and what I did. Pretty soon I didn’t have any friends. Even my family backed off. My parents are gone now, but my brother calls once every two months. Jess makes any visits unpleasant, and I’ve been too busy. My brother and I aren’t really close anyway. He lives in Washington.”

Carly remembered reading an article in the paper once about a man who met a woman bus driver, followed her home, and wouldn’t leave. He’d ended up shooting her to death in the courthouse where she’d gone to obtain a restraining order. “Then leave him or tell him to leave.” Serena made a helpless gesture. “Come live with me. We’ll hide you till he gets tired of looking,” Carly suggested impulsively. “Or until he burns your house down,” Serena said dryly, her hands on her hips. “I love you too much for that, Carly.” It was the first time Serena had admitted to strong feelings for her, but it felt to Carly more like an excuse than an acknowledgment of love. “And I love you too much for this shit, Serena.” Carly left for home. Parking in front of the falling-down garage, thinking as she did every time that they ought to shore it up, she walked to the house. Queenie stood with his nose pressed against the inside screen, his long tail sweeping back and forth. Andrew slouched in the old easy chair, watching television without the sound. He had moved in the week before. She smiled at him as she scratched Queenie’s ears. She found the age difference puzzling, not from Dan’s end, but from Andrew’s. He was thirty-two years old, eighteen years younger than Dan. Even though she didn’t understand Andrew’s attraction to Dan, she’d seen it flare sometimes. Each must answer some need in the other, she guessed, and she liked Andrew. He was not only attractive, but was also intelligent and fun. “How’s the restaurant sales business?” she asked. He turned off the TV “I just got back from Wausau. Some days are harder sells than others.” “Are there any days when you don’t sell anything at all?”

“Sure.” He grinned, his handsome face brightening. “How’s the minimart?” “Okay. It’s everything else that’s wrong,” she said honestly. His happy expression turned to concern. “What is it, Carly?” “What makes some people such pricks?” “Me?” he asked, his dark skin turning red. She told him about Jess, thinking he could be neutral when Dan couldn’t. She knew Dan would insist that she give up Serena. “What would you do?” “The guy sounds like he’s crazy.” Andrew put both feet on the floor and leaned forward, his arms on his thighs. “He’s a control freak.” “I think I’d stay out of his way, Carly.” She plunked down on the couch and closed her eyes, trying not to think of the truck tractor parked on the abandoned property. It was too scary. When Dan came home and she told him, she thought Andrew’s presence would lighten his reaction, but he stood with hands on hips, frowning terribly. “You’ve got to get out of that situation, Sis. It’s too dangerous.” “I know,” she said with a sigh, “but how can I abandon Serena?” “You might be saving her by getting away from her. Did you ever think of that?” Yes, she’d thought of that, but what would Serena’s life be like with only Jess in it? Carly couldn’t do that to her. Absently, she caressed Queenie’s head lying in her lap. Every time she looked at the dog she became angry at how he’d been treated.

“Carly?” She met Dan’s frown with her own. “Promise you’ll stop the fucking around.” Her mouth twisted. “You’re so genteel, Daniel.” “Promise,” he insisted. “Would you abandon Andrew to someone like Jess?” “I’m a man. I can defend myself better than you can against a man.” “My, aren’t you the chauvinist.” “Do you have a gun?” Andrew piped up. “For protection.” Dan made a slashing motion with his hand, signaling Andrew to shut up. “No guns. She’ll end up shot.” “Come on, Queenie. Let’s go for a walk,” she said. “Carly?” “I have to think,” she said, grabbing the bug spray next to the door and letting the screen slam behind her. The mosquitoes were out in force this time of the evening. The sun was setting. She stood on the porch, uncertain where to walk, and then Queenie set off toward the road. Calling him back, she put him in the passenger seat of her car and slid behind the wheel. She drove to the inn on the millpond in Tamarack and took the stairs around the side to the deck, hoping no one would object to the dog. The occupants of other tables glanced her way with interest and then went back to whatever they were talking about. She ordered a small pizza, and the deck lights came on while she waited for the waitress to bring her a glass

of wine. Two women three tables away leaned toward each other, deep in conversation. She watched them with envy. Even though she knew nothing about them, she recognized intimacy when she saw it. One turned and challenged her gaze with her own. Carly dropped her eyes, tears gathering at their corners. She felt empty and lonely, and she realized she had few friends here other than Serena, Andrew, and Dan. She would call Ginny and Barb and invite them over for a weekend. Lifting her chin, she sniffed when Dan and Andrew slid into the chairs at her table. “Hey,” Dan said softly, touching her arm. “It’ll be okay. Time takes care of everything.” “Why did you follow me?” “You were upset. We were worried.” Andrew smiled sweetly. “You can still see Serena,” Dan said. “Thanks for your permission,” she cut in sarcastically. “We’ll have her over for dinner when Jess is gone,” he continued patiently. “You can help out at the nursery. Just don’t do anything else.” “Oh sure,” she said. “Once you start, how do you stop?” “Don’t be alone with her,” Dan replied. “Be her friend.” Could she do that? It was worth a try. The waitress set her pizza on the table, and Dan fell on it like a starving man. “Do you want to order?” the woman asked Dan and Andrew. “Another pizza like this one,” Dan said, “only make it a large. And two

beers. Do you want another wine?” he asked Carly. “Sure,” she said, grabbing a piece of pizza before Dan could eat it all.

XI She wakened early ​ six A.M. ​ to a soft rain. Annoyed because it was raining on her day off, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly and tried to return to the weird dream she’d been involved in a moment before, but she could only recall the tail end of it. It made no sense, of course. She’d been praising a purple hippo’s art book, patting the huge animal on the neck while it nodded its head and brushed the pages with its hoof. Did the hippo represent her daughter, her granddaughter, Queenie, or what? Why a hippopotamus? With mild disgust she gave up the attempt to sleep and rolled out of bed. Raindrops dotted the windowsills, and she closed the windows before pulling on shorts and a T-shirt and padding downstairs. Outside, she stood on the porch while Queenie ambled around the yard looking for just the right spot. She hadn’t talked to Serena since Thursday, the day she’d come across Jess’s truck tractor hidden on the abandoned farm. Not having contact with Serena and not knowing what was going on was making Carly crabby. The truck had been parked in front of the barn Friday and Saturday, so she wouldn’t have been able to see her anyway. She didn’t know if she could be Serena’s friend and not her lover, but she longed to see her, to talk to her, and to make sure she was all right. In the kitchen Dan and Andrew were talking quietly over cups of coffee. They looked up at her as she poured one for herself and joined them at the table. “I’ll be home shortly after five to cook dinner,” Dan said. “If Jess is gone, ask Serena over.” “I don’t know if I can do this,” she snapped. Dan’s eyebrows slid upward. “I know it’s tough at first.” “Don’t talk to me about how it is. You don’t have to give up someone you

love.” She found herself suddenly in tears, and furious. Grabbing a paper napkin, she blew her nose. Andrew looked alarmed. He placed a sympathetic hand on her arm. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, which only made her cry harder. “I’ve gone through this more than once, Carly,” Dan said. “Remember Robert? He was in an abusive relationship. I barely escaped from his lover with my life. I gave him up completely, chopped him off like an arm.” She stared at him. Robert had been so charming. She had wondered why Dan had willingly let him go. “What happened?” “His lover shot at me. Fortunately, he missed.” If she remembered right, Robert had been the object of Dan’s affection for only a week or so. “You weren’t in love with him. You barely knew him.” “I was in lust with him. Almost the same thing. And how well do you know Serena?” Dan’s eyes burned in their deep sockets. “Time makes everything bearable.” “Easy for you to say.” She slumped in her chair. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” “We’ve got to get a move on anyway.” Dan stood up and stretched. “Andrew’s going to be my sous-chef today. See you around four.” At least there was always something at the nursery to occupy Serena. How was she going to fill the hours when she wasn’t working? Carly dragged herself upstairs to her room, noticing how Queenie moved in the same slow, dejected way. They were both missing the same woman. When she came downstairs again, she called Ginny and Barb and left them an invitation for the next weekend on their answering machine. Nearly three months had passed since she’d stayed with them. She felt ashamed that she’d been so negligent a friend.

She sat on the porch with the dog for a while, watching the drizzle come down. Then she went inside for a raincoat, thinking she would go for a walk anyway. When she came out, Queenie was gone. Looking around the yard, she called the dog’s name, unable to immediately believe he’d disappeared so quickly. She made a run for her car. She reached the nursery as the dog loped up the driveway. Her heart lodged in her throat when she saw Jess’s truck parked in its usual spot next to Serena’s pickup. Maybe, just maybe, she could sneak in and out with the dog. She followed Queenie to the barn and jumped out of her car. “Come on, boy,” she coaxed, her hand on the dog’s collar. “Let’s go.” “My wife’s not enough? You’re stealing my dog now, too?” Jess stepped out through the open barn doors. Her face flooded with color, and she blinked to clear her vision. “I, um .. He’s been staying with us.” “Well, now he’s home. Leave him be.” Queenie trembled under her hand, a whine escaping him. With head and tail drooping, the dog took a hesitant, submissive step toward Jess. “See? He ain’t going nowhere. He knows where he belongs.” He smirked as he took hold of the dog’s collar. If she told him Serena had asked her to take the dog, she might have to explain why, so she said nothing. Nearly blinded by frustration and anger, she drove home with tears running down her face, banging on the steering wheel with the heel of a hand. “Fucking asshole,” she yelled in the empty car.

Too agitated to go inside, she went to the garage and grabbed an old fishing rod that had belonged to her father. It had hung in the garage as long as she could remember. Once in a while somebody used it, so it had line with a bobber, sinker, and hook on it. Taking the empty coffee can from the birdseed container, she dug alongside the house for worms, dropping them one by one in the dirt she’d put in the can. Then she crossed the trout stream and stood on the bank in the softly falling rain. Mosquitoes buzzed around her head, but she only brushed them away when they zeroed in on her. She tossed the hook into the swirling water and waited. The first trout struck almost immediately, startling her. It grabbed the worm and ran with it, and she nearly lost her tenuous balance on the slippery, grassy bank. Pulling herself up, she reeled the fish toward shore. It jumped out of the water once, twisting sideways before splashing into the depths. She hadn’t expected to catch anything; she had just thought it would be a good way to kill time or try to forget. When she got the fish to shore, she saw that it was over fourteen inches long and had swallowed the hook. Feeling bad that she had caught it at all, she cut the line and released it into the coppery stream. That was the trouble with fishing, she thought as she stood in the rain looking at the spot where the fish had disappeared. It would be such a nice thing to do if she could keep from empathizing with the fish, not to mention the worms. She had no more hooks with her, so she crossed the log and climbed the hill to the house. Chilled now, she put the pole back in the garage, freed the worms, and wiped the can with a paper towel before refilling the feeders. Inside, she stripped down and took a hot shower. Turning on public radio for company, she curled up on the couch with a book. Jerking up out of sleep when Dan and Andrew came through the door, she glanced at her watch and saw it was four-thirty. She’d gotten through the day without seeing Serena.

Dan stood over her, filling her line of vision with his presence. “We’re not having company, are we? I saw Jess’s truck at the nursery.” She swung her legs to the floor and sat up, running fingers through her tangled hair. “You startled me.” “I’ll take a shower, then start on dinner,” Dan said. “We worked up a sweat.” In the kitchen, dressed in his usual home garb of baggy shorts and T-shirt, his hair wet and wild, Dan asked, “Where’s Queenie?” “Gone home.” She gave him the rundown on the dog. He hugged her to him, nearly smothering her in his bulk. “Maybe it’s for the best. He was one homesick hound.” “I know,” she said, but the words caught in a sob. The dog had become much more than a tangible link to Serena. She’d grown fond of him and feared for his safety. “This calls for a stiff drink,” he said, getting out the vodka. “I invited Barb and Ginny for the weekend. I need some friends,” she said, gulping from it as soon as he handed her a glass. “I’ll cook a special meal on Saturday.” “Don’t you get tired of cooking?” Andrew asked, coming into the room. His hair was slicked down from the shower, his shorts and shirt a neat contrast to Dan’s. “Never. It’s my passion. What’s yours anyway?” Carly smiled at Andrew, who looked thoughtful. “I don’t know,” he said. “Mysteries, maybe. Driving. I like to drive.”

“He has passion to burn. I know firsthand,” Dan said, winking at Carly. Andrew flashed a smile white against the flush on his dark skin. “I didn’t know that’s what we were talking about.” “We weren’t,” Carly said. “And yours, Carly?” Dan asked. “Besides women and writing.” “Reading, I guess, and the outdoors,” she said with a jab of pain. Serena was her passion. Dan was looking at her. “Sorry. That was a thoughtless question.” She shrugged, feeling listless. “Where’s the dog?” Andrew asked, looking around, and Carly began to cry. Working got her through the next two days, which were cool and cloudy. She took on extra hours just to fill time and found a new way home in order to avoid passing the nursery ​just like the K. T. Oslin song. She didn’t want to know if Jess was there or not; she didn’t dare risk a glimpse of Serena in the yard. Late Wednesday afternoon, she glanced past a customer to see Serena standing behind him. Her heart bumped painfully, she forgot what she was doing, and she stared quizzically at the man’s upturned palm. “Oh, sorry.” She handed him the change she’d gotten from the till. Then said absentmindedly for the umpteenth time, “Have a good day.” Serena moved up in his place. “It’s been nearly a week.” “Has it?” It had seemed more like a month to Carly. “I’ve been waiting by the mailbox morning and night and haven’t seen you

drive by.” Serena’s eyes were dark, bruised. “You look tired,” she said, then took a deep, shaky breath. “I am tired,” Serena hissed, leaning on the counter. “I miss you.” Carly glanced around, but there was no one within hearing range. Assessing the risk against the loneliness and longing, she questioned why she was doing this. “I promised Dan I’d give up the affair.” “What about you? Is that what you want?” “I can’t have what I want.” “Jess is gone. When do you get off?” “In a half-hour.” “Let’s go for a walk somewhere and talk. We can be friends, can’t we?” Serena asked. “Of course,” Carly said.

XII Serena followed in her truck as Carly wound along the rolling country roads. A dense cover of clouds blanketed the sky. Purple stalks of vervain complemented the clover and contrasted with the native sunflowers along the roadsides. Blue chicory still bloomed, brightening the ditches. It was nature’s perennial garden as seen from the car windows, always changing, never needing tending. Fields of corn, their tassels turning gold, alternated with leafy green alfalfa and filled the spaces between woods and road. Hills rose and fell on all sides. Carly led the way to the Department of Natural Resource land off County K, parked in the small, sandy designated area, and locked the Saturn as Serena pulled in next to her. Queenie sat in the front seat of the pickup, his long nose jutting from the partially open window. The dog greeted Carly as if she were a long-lost friend, banishing her fears that he’d blame her for dognapping him. “Hey, Queenie.” She ran her hands over his wiggling form. “I guess he’s either forgiven me for taking him away from you or forgotten it.” “He loves you nearly as much as I do.” Serena pulled a blanket and a can of Off from behind the seat of the truck. Carry’s legs turned to mush. “I’m not going to do this.” Serena lifted a picnic basket over the side of the bed. “What? Not eat?” she said with a triumphant smile. Carly laughed and took hold of one handle of the basket. “There’s a lovely woods here, a fairyland.” “Where’s the stream? The sign says Pine Creek.” “It’s kind of hard to find, and it’s very buggy. Come on.”

They walked until they reached the oak and pine woods, an island rising out of boggy wetlands. Ferns and soft grasses grew through a carpet of needles. Fallen logs provided seating. “Perfect for a picnic, don’t you think?” Carly felt as if her arm had stretched from lugging her half of the basket. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve got in here that weighs so much.” Serena spread the blanket between two fallen trees, sat down, and began removing the contents of the basket. A bottle of wine, two glasses, containers of coleslaw and potato salad, two sandwiches, and for Queenie, a small box of Milk-Bone dog biscuits. Carly’s stomach clenched with hunger as Serena pulled the cork and poured the wine. Serena handed her a glass and held her own up for a toast. “To dinner,” Carly said. “Thanks.” “To us,” Serena answered. “There is no ‘us,’ Serena.” “We’ll talk about it after we eat.” “There’s nothing to talk about.” Carly felt very strong at that moment. Serena handed her a paper plate with a sandwich on it. “Help yourself to the rest.” Lying at Serena’s feet, Queenie gazed at her with worshipful eyes. “You can’t give him away again no matter what happens. I think he would have died from missing you.” “I know the feeling. That’s how I missed you.” “People aren’t like dogs. You’d get over me. I’d get over you. It just takes

time.” She couldn’t keep going through days that dragged interminably like they had the past week. If she was going to end the affair, if she was ever going to get over Serena, somehow she had to keep from being alone with her. She took a deep breath and smelled pines and earth. “Look, Serena …” And then Serena pulled her down until Carly lay flat on the scratchy blanket, glimpsing the white sky through leaves and needles overhead. A peephole of blue caught her eye before Serena’s head blotted it out. Carly’s will drained out of her, and she gave in to the desire racing through her. “No more of this nonsense,” Serena said. “You want me, I want you.” Carly started to say that wasn’t enough, that relationships were based on more than sex on the sly, but then Serena’s mouth covered hers. Carly was home alone when Ginny and Barb arrived in Ginny’s Explorer. Andrew now assisted Dan on Friday nights, when nearly everyone in Wisconsin went out for fish fries ​ an idea lingering from before the early sixties, when Catholics were forbidden meat on Friday. In an attempt to reclaim a life without Serena, Carly was intent on rebuilding friendships and making new ones. Labor Day weekend Janie and Francine would make a return visit. She intended to fill her weekends with friends and relatives. If she found herself unable or unwilling to give up Serena, then at least she would have people to fall back on when Jess was home or when, as she feared, the affair suddenly ended. People were always hugging these days, she thought as first Ginny and then Barb clutched her to their capacious bosoms. There was something comforting in the pressing of flesh, especially when the flesh was composed of soft breasts. Maybe it reminded her of her mother whose lap she still sometimes recalled with longing ​ a place where troubles could be deposited.

“Come on in. We’ll have a drink and go on into the hotel for dinner. My treat,” Carly said. “Oh no, friend,” Barb protested. “Our treat.” “I’m not going to argue about it. You took me in last spring, and this weekend is my thank-you.” “How are you doing anyway?” Ginny asked as Carly handed her and Barb cold Miller Lites, their beer of choice. “Good,” she replied. She had no intention of bringing Serena into the conversation. The thought of explaining their affair to Barb and Ginny tired her. She was certain they’d think she’d learned nothing and had gone from the frying pan with Lee into the fire with Serena. At the hotel, they bought drinks in the bar and carried them to the picnic table Dan had reserved for them on the deck overlooking the millpond. The sun hung at treetop level, a red orb about to set. Colored lights dangled from the overhanging porch roof, ready to brighten the coming night. As they waited to order, Barb and Ginny filled her in on activities and friends in the Fox Valley. Leaning back against the wall of the building, Carly listened as she eyed the vanishing sun. The days were noticeably shorter. Carrying an order pad and pen, Andrew emerged from the kitchen. He wore a grease-spotted apron around his waist, and his black hair gleamed with sweat. Liquid beads glistened on his upper lip and forehead, and dark half-moons dampened the cloth under his arms. Carly introduced him as Daniel’s friend and sometime sous-chef. Andrew showed them his white grin. “I am not the chef,” he said. “Be grateful.” “Andrew lives with us,” Carly said, her voice fading as, at the edge of her vision, she saw Serena and Jess walk through the door to the deck.

Serena caught her eye at about the same time, smiled and nodded. Following his wife’s gaze, Jess glared. Carly looked away. Had she been alone she’d have left. Instead, she hoped Serena and Jess would, but they sat on the high stools at one of the tables attached to the railing. Andrew went next to Serena and Jess’s table to take their orders. Andrew had no idea who they were, she knew. She watched covertly, dividing her attention between her companions and Serena. “You the waitress?” Jess asked, loud enough for her to hear. Serena murmured something. “The next best thing, the waiter,” Andrew said, bowing good-naturedly. Carly held her breath. Was there some way Jess knew that Andrew lived with them, with Daniel? But Jess merely ordered the perch dinner for both of them. Andrew winked at Carly as he passed her table on his way to the kitchen. She hoped Daniel would not come out and greet her and her friends, but she knew he would as soon as he could get away. She was unable to concentrate on anything said after that, straining as she was to hear Serena and Jess’s conversation as well as the ones around her. Finally, Serena placed a hand on Jess’s arm, slid off the stool, and headed toward her table. “Hi,” Serena got in before Jess came over and stood behind her. “Serena and Jess, these are my friends.” In her distracted state Carly stumbled over names, actually blanking out a moment on Ginny’s last name. And then Dan came out of the kitchen, booming, “Good to see you, girls. Welcome to the Hotel Tamarack.”

“What are you doing here?” Jess asked. “I’m the Chef Boyardee.” Still jovial, Dan looked at Jess, as if wondering where he’d come from. “You’re cooking the food?” Jess continued. “Why didn’t you say so, Serena? I ain’t in the mood for AIDS.” Dan’s demeanor changed. He grew calm and cold. “You can leave now.” “Yeah. What if I don’t want to leave?” Jess said. “You gonna make me?” Serena was pulling on Jess’s arm. “Come on, Jess.” She looked like she might cry. And then to Carly’s immense relief, they did leave. An uneasy silence had fallen over Barb and Ginny. Carly had sat paralyzed during the confrontation, and only now looked at them through sweaty eyes. Dan’s hand rested heavily on her shoulder, and he gave her a little shake, bringing her back to reality. “Drinks are on me,” he said. “We need a little amnesia after that.” When Dan was gone, Ginny said, “Handsome woman. Too bad she’s stuck with such a jerk.” “She’s more than good looking,” Carly said. They looked at her, and she lapsed into silence. The other two shrugged off the unpleasant incident, and, in a matter of minutes, were laughing over something. Carly missed whatever was funny. She was still mulling things over, angry with Serena for bringing Jess here when she knew Dan was chef, furious with Jess for being the asshole he was. Barb patted her on the back, asking quietly, “You okay, Carly?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, is all.” “It’s not your fault.” “Yes, it is,” she admitted, knowing that she was opening herself up to questions later on. After dinner, they went to a county park on one of the lakes. The surface of the small lake glittered with stars through which a full moon paved a yellow path. They stripped down to their underwear and hung their clothes on the boat-landing sign. Carly stood for a moment on the hard sandy bottom, the water lapping at her ankles. She waded deeper, acclimating herself to the temperature of the lake until she was in over her head and swimming with the other two toward the raft. Blowing water, they climbed the ladder and sat side by side on the rocking surface, admiring the moon and stars, the shoreline with its shadowed trees. She realized that if they were guys, even Dan and Andrew, they’d probably be pushing and shoving, instead of oohing and aahing. It made her glad she was female.

XIII On the way home, Barb asked if she wanted to talk, and her story spilled out as if she were too full of it. She heard it from her own mouth and was unable to explain her inability to end the affair in the face of Jess’s threatening behavior. Her hunch that he was watching them when he said he was gone would have sounded insubstantial but for the fact that she’d seen his truck tractor at the abandoned farm site. Jess’s treatment of Hoity Toity and Queenie brought angry mutters. At home they changed into sweats and gathered in the kitchen where Carly made decaffeinated coffee. Under the overhead light, she saw the expressions on her friends’ faces and sensed the effort they were making to be understanding. “You must love her a lot,” Ginny finally said. “I want to make a life with this woman,” Carly said glumly. “I have a passion for her that I never felt for anyone else. Anyway, I can’t abandon her to Jess. Dan doesn’t understand.” “But she won’t leave him?” Barb asked. “She says he won’t let her go.” Carly found herself defending Serena’s position, the same one she’d argued against. “So what are you going to do?” Ginny said. “Serena wants to continue as we are.” She shrugged, wondering why she was even talking about it. Did she hope someone would tell her she was in the right? Barb looked at her. “Dan’s got a point, you know. Jess sounds like a dangerous man, Carly.” “Have you thought of moving back to the Valley?” Ginny suggested.

“Putting some distance between you and this?” Carly shook her head. “I love it here. This is where I belong.” Carly slept hard that night, waking with a start to early daylight. Getting up, she dressed in shorts and T-shirt and tiptoed barefoot downstairs to start the coffee. Barb and Ginny were planning to fish that morning. A red-breasted nuthatch and a chickadee were fighting over a place at the tube feeder. The tiny nuthatch drove the feisty chickadee onto a nearby branch to wait its turn. A goldfinch followed the chickadee. Once in a while several birds landed on the perches and got along well enough to snatch a few seeds before flying off. They never fought long while jockeying for a place at the table. She drank the first cup of coffee while standing, staring out the window, and failed to hear Barb enter the room. Jumping when Barb put a hand on her shoulder, she nearly spilled the hot liquid. “Sorry,” Barb said. “Ginny asked if it was all right if she took the shower she’s taking.” Carly smiled. “Thanks. And she doesn’t need to ask. I’m just jumpy these days. Take her some coffee, why don’t you?” When Barb returned, Carly said, “I don’t know what got into me last night. I don’t usually run off at the mouth like that.” “I know you don’t. That’s why I’m worried.” Barb pulled out a chair. “I’m doing just what Lee did, aren’t I?” “Well, it’s not exactly the same. You weren’t abusive to Lee.” She snorted. “I should have been.”

Barb smiled faintly. “I’m just scared for you. So is Ginny. This guy doesn’t sound like someone to cross.” After a breakfast of toast, she led the two women across the log and then went for a long walk while they fished. Returning to the house, she set up her Mac on the dining room table and stared at the screen until Andrew and Dan padded through on their way to the kitchen. “Want some breakfast?” Dan called from the kitchen. “I already ate.” Dan came to the doorway and looked at her. “I was plenty scared last night.” “I’m not responsible for what he does, if you mean Jess.” “Who else?” He disappeared into the kitchen. It annoyed her that she’d now have to hide her renewed liaison with Serena from Dan, too. Turning off the computer and carrying it to her room, she set it up on the old dressing table of her youth. Andrew knocked on the half-closed door. “Carly, he’s just worried about you.” “I know.” “If you want to see her, I’ll cover your tracks.” She smiled at him in the mirror. “Thanks, Andrew. You’re a smart guy for your age.” “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, and disappeared. Monday morning Jess filled the truck tractor at the minimart’s diesel pump, then dropped a hundred-dollar bill on the counter. She took the money between two fingers and placed the change on the counter. “Have a good trip.”

“What makes you think I’m going on a trip?” She shrugged, her eyes sliding up to meet his and veering away. “Then have a good day.” “No funny business while I’m gone. You hear?” She frowned as she focused on his large knuckles, cracked and red. “I don’t know what you mean.” “Sure you do.” The door opened, and the next customer who’d filled his car walked toward the counter. “Excuse me,” she said, silently telling Jess to go fuck himself. Her hands were shaking. Jess stuffed the change in his jeans and left. Serena phoned around noon. “I’m catching some lunch here. Jess is gone till Friday. Why don’t you come over after work?” Carly paused, her earlier anger sweeping through her again. “Jess was here this morning.” “What happened?” “He tried to intimidate me. And succeeded, of course.” “Get even then. Come over.” “No.” “Can we meet somewhere after closing?” Carly shut her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, a woman was waiting at the counter. “I have to go now.” “How about the Pine Creek land?” “Later,” she said to Serena as she smiled at the woman.

The next four days, they met at the public land at five-thirty in the afternoon. Monday was cold and rainy, Tuesday the sun shone through clouds pushed by a cool wind, Wednesday the sky cleared and the air heated up, and Thursday was hot all day. Serena always brought a picnic basket, and after devouring the contents, no matter the weather, they made love with Queenie lying close by. When they parted on Thursday at seven-thirty, a red sun rested on a bank of clouds, ready to slip behind them at any moment. Carly couldn’t help wondering how many warm, windy days like this awaited them and where they would go when it was too cold to meet outside or too unsafe because soon the woods would be full of hunters. She drove the long way home, so as not to pass the nursery. Andrew looked up from the couch where he was reading. “Did you work late?” he asked. “Nope.” She dropped her purse on a chair and headed for the stairs. “Is Dan still at the hotel?” She intended to shower before he made it home. “Yep. How’s Serena?” She looked at him and saw no malice. “I’m too old to be sneaking around, aren’t I?” He shook his head vigorously. “No. If I were you, I’d sneak around.” “I’ve got to clean house. Janie’s coming tomorrow.” “I did, yesterday.” He looked hurt. “Can’t you tell?” When Dan arrived an hour later, she and Andrew were reading. “What did you say to that son of a bitch, Carly?” “Who?” she asked.

“Jess. He came into the hotel kitchen this morning, blowing steam through his nose holes.” “As little as possible.” “You’re seeing her, aren’t you?” His voice dropped a notch. “Yeah, I am.” She reminded herself that she was an adult and could do what she wanted. “I’m not going to kowtow to that bastard.” “I knew it.” He looked accusingly at Andrew. “Don’t blame him,” she said. When Janie and Francie arrived Friday night, Carly fixed hamburgers and chili fries, which they ate on the picnic table in the warm, breezy evening. Carly wasn’t going to risk meeting Serena and Jess at the hotel again. Janie was full of news about work, and Francie bubbled over with tales of nursery school. Carly mostly listened. Carly held Francie’s warm, little body against her while she and Janie finished their wine. Francie interrupted their conversation with comments of her own. All evening, images of herself with Serena at the DNR land popped into Carry’s mind at the oddest times. She’d banish one, only to have another reappear a few minutes later in graphic detail. Saturday morning, she padded downstairs to find Andrew and Francie lying belly-down on the floor in front of the TV They were talking about the program, or rather, Francie was telling Andrew about the characters on the screen. Neither of them heard her, and she left them there on her way through the shadowed dining room to the kitchen. The sun was still very warm, but softer, less direct. It brightened and warmed the yellow linoleum where it fell. A breeze sifted through the screens. She took her cup of coffee outside and sat in the side yard overlooking the trout stream.

She did her best thinking there, but lately she had been trying not to think. It was easier to let the days flow together, to bury herself in a book whenever she was alone. That way she wouldn’t question her motives, if she had any, or her actions, which were less than admirable and certainly selfish. She smiled when Janie joined her. “Gonna be a nice weekend.” “Andrew’s a hunk and a half,” Janie remarked. “Wouldn’t you know he’d be gay.” “He’s very nice, too.” Carly would miss him if he left, and she was sure he would go one of these days. “Francie was looking forward to seeing the dog. His owners took him back?” “Yep. I miss him too.” “Who do you miss?” Dan flopped down next to them. “Queenie.” “Don’t you see him when you go over there?” he asked. “I haven’t been over there.” “Where do you go?” he said, and Janie gave them both a questioning look. “Haven’t you got enough to handle with your own life, Dan?” Carly got up. “Anyone want a refill?” “I’ll get it,” Janie offered, jumping to her feet. When Janie was gone, Dan said, “And what if he finds you together in some deserted place? I need to know where you meet in case I have to rescue you.” Chagrined and frightened, and just in case Jess did follow them to the

public land, she told him.

XIV The lovely weekend was an intermission for Carly, who had taken Saturday and Sunday off. She was next scheduled to work at three on Labor Day. Janie would be packing up by then. She reveled in having nowhere to go and little to do, even as she suppressed a nagging worry that she had missed an appointment or failed to complete some task. Saturday Andrew climbed one of the huge willows by the stream and tied a thick rope to a branch. Rounding and smoothing a board he found in the garage, he fastened it to the end of the rope. He swung Francie, who shrieked with terror tinged joy, out over the stream as she wrapped her hands and legs around the rope. Then he pushed himself over the Tamarack and jumped into the pooling water they used as a swimming hole. They’d had some cool nights, and the creek had returned to its more or less icy state. He came up whooping, while Francie jumped up and down on the bank, laughing and clapping. She spent every spare moment with him, but after the evening meals, which Dan prepared, she climbed into Carly’s lap. Then Carly would rest her cheek against the soft hair, close her eyes, and wonder why she wanted more than she already had. The next morning, Tuesday, dawned warmer yet. She took the alternate route to town. She had no idea whether Jess was gone, although he was supposed to leave on a run Monday night. Serena called around noon. “What time do you get off?” She had changed her hours, except for Labor Day, so that she worked the early shift. No one else wanted it. “Three.” “I’ve got a big order being picked up at five. Brad’s back in school, and he’s playing football, which means practice every day. Can you help?”

“I guess.” How easily she capitulated. She’d even fixed her work schedule so that it was convenient to see Serena. Who was she fooling? She had no intention of breaking off the affair. It seemed early for changing colors, but a few treetop branches fluttered yellow and red leaves. Mid-October was usually peak. Asters bloomed along the roadsides. She drove home past the abandoned farm site and the nursery to ensure herself that Jess was really gone. On the off chance he’d found another place to hide his truck, she checked out the surrounding roads, looking for off-road tire tracks. She located Serena behind the barn, loading burning bushes onto the small trailer attached to the garden tractor. With a hand on the small of her back, she straightened as Carly hurried to help. Serena grinned, her teeth a flash of white against the brown of her face. “How are you, sweetie?” Carly wiped a smudge of dirt off Serena’s cheek. “Are you bending your knees, so you don’t hurt yourself?” Serena laughed. “That’s not how I greet the woman I love, but I guess it means you care.” “What good will you be if your back goes out?” Carly smiled. “We can lift these together.” “We can only fit two on at a time. We’ll have to put the trees on a skid and drag them out. They’re too heavy for anything else.” “Good thinking.” When they bent over to pick up the last burning bush, Carly found herself looking down the front of Serena’s tank top. Without thinking, she dipped her tongue in the warm cleavage. Serena tasted of salt with a little bit of sand mixed in.

“Hey. We’ll never get this job done if you do stuff like that.” They put a chain around the rootballs and used the little John Deere to pull the two sugar maples and the sweet gum tree onto the skid, then hooked the skid onto the tractor and dragged it to the parking area, where they reversed the process. “There’s got to be a better way,” Carly said when they finished. “This takes an awful lot of time.” Not to mention backbreaking labor, she thought. “A real tractor with a loader would make it easier, but then the rows would have to be farther apart.” “How is Hoity Toity?” Carly asked. She associated the cat with their lovemaking since the feline so often lay with them. Serena studied her for a few moments. “Fine. Why don’t you come inside and see for yourself?” “No, thanks.” Why was she doing this, she wondered. Her desire was an ache, her wish for a normal relationship with Serena no more than a dream. “Why did you ask about Hoity?” “Because you’re ignoring the elephant here.” “Jess, you mean?” “Yep. Jess, I mean.” Carly had caught her breath. “Are we done here?” “Yes.” “I’m going home then.” “Can I come with you?”

“That’s not a good idea, Serena, unless it’s only for leftovers.” She felt very tired all of a sudden. “Then I’ll meet you after work tomorrow on the Pine Creek land.” Carly smiled sadly. “What’s it supposed to be like tomorrow?” “Nice.” Serena returned the smile. “I’ll pack supper.” The house was deserted, quiet. Carly stripped off and took a shower, wrapping herself in a terry robe. When she emerged from the bathroom, the phone was ringing. She picked it up in the living room. “Well, finally. Where the hell have you been?” Dan asked. “Why? Are you keeping tabs?” she snapped. “I was in the shower.” “I wanted to tell you that I’ll be a little late and that Andrew’s out of town. Lock the doors.” They had been locking up at night for weeks now. Her heart began knocking at her ribs. “Did something happen?” “Andrew called. He saw Jess’s tractor at a truck stop near Point when he stopped on business. He overheard the manager complaining about it being left there for more than twenty-four hours at a time.” “Oh,” she said with alarm. “Were you at Serena’s earlier?” “I helped her move some shrubbery and trees.” “You better call her, but stay away.” “I will.”

“Hey, I’m not trying to make you unhappy. I’m trying to keep you safe. You make it hard.” “I know.” She walked through the house, locking the doors, switching on lights. Fear made her move quickly, jerkily. In the kitchen, she lowered the blinds and called Serena. “Andrew saw Jess’s truck at a truck stop near Point. It had been left there.” Serena said expressionlessly, “I know. He’s here.” Jess came on the line. “Come over once while I’m here, instead of sneaking around behind my back.” “I was helping Serena this afternoon,” she said stiffly, indignantly, because it was the truth. “If you were helping, you’d stay away. It don’t help her, not when it makes me mad.” She hung up and called Dan, pacing impatiently until he came to the phone. “I’m going to Serena’s.” She told him the gist of the short conversation with Jess. “Don’t, Carly. Wait till I get home. If you have to go, we’ll go together.” “I can’t wait. She might be in danger.” She hung up. A new moon hung low in the west. The night air was cool. She drove the short distance in a matter of minutes, parking in front of the kitchen door. Light from the window spilled onto the dry grass and sandy driveway, and she struggled to breathe normally as she spotted Jess standing outside on the stoop, lighting a cigarette. He laughed mockingly. “Where’s your brother?” he said, exhaling loudly.

“He knows I’m here,” she said, disgusted with the quaver in her voice that gave away her fear of him. “He’s a fraidy-cat.” “He’s at work. Where’s Serena?” “You didn’t come to see me?” He snorted another laugh, and the dog barked inside. “Don’t you ever work?” She couldn’t really see his face with the light behind him, but the glow of the cigarette when he inhaled showed his mouth as a tight line. He took a step down. “Hey, who d’you think pays the bills around here? Not this stupid nursery business.” “Where’s Serena? You invited me over.” Her heart was pounding hard, a mix of anger and fear fueling her. He opened the door and jerked his head. “Go on in.” When she passed him, he leaned toward her. “Boo!” She jumped, of course, and nearly peed in her jeans, then was stricken with an instant headache. Unable to come up with a dignified response, she said nothing. Serena sat at the table, nursing a cup of coffee and holding the dog by the collar. Serena shook her head, but Carly didn’t know what she meant. “Do I get a cup?” she asked, ignoring Jess, who had stepped inside and closed the door. “Help yourself,” Serena said. Jess got a beer out of the refrigerator and popped the lid. “Want one?”

“No thanks.” Carly leaned against the counter, drinking the hot, strong liquid and wondering what she was going to say or do next. Now that she’d seen that Serena was unharmed, maybe it was time to leave. “I’ll just finish this and head on home,” she said, wanting to get out of there before Dan showed up. “You just got here. You want to spend so much time with each other, why don’t you stick around and do whatever you do when I ain’t here?” Serena said angrily, “We worked today. Hard.” Jess slammed the beer can on the table, sending a fountain of yellow liquid partway to the ceiling. “Don’t play me for a goddamn moron.” He gave Carly a fierce look. “I know Serena. She’s been fooling around with women for years. You ain’t the first, and you won’t be the last.” “Why don’t you leave her then?” Carly shot back, her eyes on the trembling dog that had scrambled to his feet with a yelp. A cruel smile appeared on his face. “I ain’t never letting her go. That’s her punishment.” Carly set her cup down, noticing how Serena sank into herself. “Guess I better leave now. Like Serena said, we worked hard today. I’m tired.” Her back prickled with tension as she turned it on him and covered the short distance to the door. “I’ll call tomorrow, Serena.”

XV Outside, the yard basked in the artificial glow of the dusk-to-dawn light. The moon had set. Bats’ wings fluttered, insects hummed and chirred. The world seemed normal, whatever that was. She took in a deep, shaky breath of the cool air before getting behind the wheel of her Saturn. Pausing at the end of Serena’s driveway, she waited for the approaching headlights to pass, but they turned out to be on Dan’s truck, and he pulled in beside her. “You going home?” he asked, his face a pattern of shadows. “Yep.” They parked in front of the garage and walked side by side toward the dark house, the way lit only by stars. “What happened?” he asked quietly. She told him, and he threw an arm around her as she talked. “I’m okay.” Surprisingly, she was. She would meet Serena tomorrow at the Pine Creek land and talk her into leaving. They could flee to Milwaukee and rent an apartment. She’d lived and worked there before she’d married John. She had money saved. Dan fixed drinks, while she foraged in the refrigerator. She hadn’t eaten since the sandwich and bag of chips she’d devoured at work over seven hours ago. Fixing herself a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich, she trailed Dan into the living room with her drink in hand and plunked down in the easy chair. With a sigh she rested her legs on the small wrought-iron, green-cushioned stool that her grandmother had embroidered with flowers. Sitting down made her realize how tired she really was. Her legs and back ached. She closed her eyes. At first the only sounds, besides their occasional voices and the clock

ticking on the mantel, were the insects of the night. She found comfort in the shrill rasping. “It’s not raining, is it?” Dan lifted his head, listening. “I thought I saw stars out there.” “You did.” But now she heard plinking sounds like sleet hitting the side of the house. Dan started for the door. “I’m going to take a peek.” “No. Don’t,” she warned, stiffening. He stopped and looked at her, puzzled. “Why?” “It might be Jess,” she whispered, and for the first time wondered how safe Dan would be if she and Serena ran off together. With a snort of disbelief, he opened the door. The sound had stopped. The night was clear, he reported as he closed and relocked the door. “Of course.” She explained that she had heard such sounds before, against the walls and windows of her bedroom, but he looked at her as if she were nuts. “You were hallucinating,” he said. “I’ll come and get you tonight if I hear them again,” she promised. “Be sure you do.” He belted back the liquor and went for more. “Want a refill?” “No, thanks.” In bed, she lay rigidly waiting for the patter to commence. Before long, a smattering of what sounded like stones began hitting the outside walls. Creeping down the hall, she knocked on Dan’s door. “Come listen.”

He emerged from his room in a pair of baggy undershorts and padded down the hall to her room, which was dowsed in darkness. They lay on the bed, waiting for the assault to begin again, but it had ceased for the night. Finally, they fell asleep. The next morning Dan dragged a ladder out of the garage and examined the outer walls of the house in the early light. A mist hung over the trout stream and wetlands. Dew lay heavy on the grass. “Tiny dents,” he called down from his perch outside her bedroom window. “Look on the ground. See if you can find anything that might have been fired at the house.” “Like what?” she asked, craning her neck and shading her eyes. “Like buckshot, but I’m thinking it probably was rock salt, which would dissolve with the dew.” “A shotgun? You think he fired a gun at the house?” she asked, momentarily appalled. “Wouldn’t we have heard it go off?” “Not if it was muffled. There should be casings, unless he picked them up.” They went to look at the porch and walls in the front but saw no such dents in the siding. “There’s no damage here,” she said. He bent close to the house, looking at the ground. “Sand. It was sand. It’s all over the grass.” He turned to her. “There’s not enough evidence to call the sheriffs office, but this guy is certifiably nuts. Now are you going to stay away?” She toed the ground with one sandaled foot and murmured something she hoped sounded like assent. She didn’t call Serena as she’d promised. She thought if Serena showed up, she’d talk to her at the Pine Creek land. A thin veneer of clouds and a brisk wind made the day not so fine anyway. Waves scudded across the

usually calm millpond. Between customers, she stocked shelves and stared out the windows. Her boss, Larry, emerged from his office midmorning. Baring his long teeth in a smile, his face lighting up briefly, he said, “You need help with that?” His pale eyes followed her around as she put cans of oil on the shelves. “No thanks. It gives me something to do.” He cleared his throat, but before he could say anything more, a young man came through the door to pay for gas. She hurried to the counter. “I’d say, ‘Have a nice day,’ but it’s not nice out, is it?” she remarked. “I don’t like hot weather,” the man said, meeting her eyes briefly. “Well then, have a nice day.” She took his twenty and made change. “Do you need anything else?” “Nope.” The man headed toward the door, nodding at Larry. She began emptying a case of Quaker State oil, her back to her boss, who perched on the counter, his long legs reaching the floor. “Don’t stop what you’re doing. I’ll take care of this,” he said to her as someone came through the door. She did a double take and turned her back. The customer was Jess. “Where’s your truck, man?” Larry asked. “I’m going to get it,” Jess said. “Got a haul?” “Yeah.”

“Have a good one,” Larry called. “Yep.” The door opened and shut. She turned and saw Jess climb into an unfamiliar car, one he must have rented or borrowed. She smiled grimly. Serena would be at the public land this afternoon. The wind had died down when she left the minimart and drove to Pine Creek. Blue and white asters bloomed in the ditches, along with ragweed. Most of the sumac had turned a deep red, almost a crimson or a purple. Serena waited for her, arms crossed, leaning against the side of her truck. Queenie stood in the tall grass off the trail, looking for her to follow. Carly pulled in and parked, and Queenie romped toward her, tail wagging, ears flattened in welcome. She patted the dog and smiled at Serena. “I’d believe in his good taste if he hadn’t shown such bad judgment with Jess,” she said. Serena swung the picnic basket out of the back of the truck. “There was a time when Jess was good to him.” “Why is he such a mean bastard now?” “Maybe it’s because he drinks more,” Serena said. They headed toward the island of woods, carrying the picnic basket together, walking on the path between high grass. Tongue hanging out and ears flying, Queenie bounded ahead of them, occasionally running back to make sure they were following. “Don’t you think it’s time to leave him?” she said. “How? You heard him. He’s not going to let me go.” Serena paused midstep and met her eyes.

“We’ll go to Milwaukee when we know he’s on a long haul. By the time he comes back, our trail will be cold.” She stopped too, thinking she sounded like a detective in a sitcom. “There is no other way, Serena. He was shooting sand and rock salt at the house last night.” Serena walked on again, quiet now. “Think about it,” Carly begged. “It’s going to get cold soon. Where will we meet then?” Serena said nothing until she spread the blanket on the ground and opened the picnic basket. “I will think about it. I promise.” If it was simply a ruse to get her to shut up, it still had that effect, and when Serena pulled her down, Carly offered no resistance. She was lost in the watery world of sex, fantasizing about the two of them, when the dog barked. Startled, she opened her eyes to the changing leaves and whitish sky overhead. Even the pines were turning yellow, shedding their old needles for new. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement. A jolt of fear traveled through her like electricity, leaving her momentarily limp. Then the freeflowing adrenaline set her in motion. She scrambled to her feet, pulling herself in order. Luckily, they never removed more than the necessary clothing when they were here, because they felt so exposed. Jess was stepping carefully through the last of the wetland, avoiding the boggy stretches. She and Serena had made an easy path to follow over the weeks. She looked through a mist and blinked, swiping at her eyes to clear them. Her heart had gone wild. When she glanced at Serena, she saw her terror and had to look away. Queenie was silent now, recognizing Jess. The dog sidled up to him as he came near, filling their picnic area, their space, with his presence. The ankle of one jean-clad leg was black with mud. Neither she nor Serena said anything.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, ignoring the dog that was pressed up against him. Carly willed Queenie to move away to safety. Serena said in a squeaky voice, “Having a picnic. What does it look like?” Then he did something that made Carly feel personally violated, repelled. He grabbed Serena’s hand and sniffed her fingers. His eyes narrowed, and his mouth stretched cruelly as he made a face. “I know what women smell like.” He stood with his hands on his hips, his legs slightly spread. “Want to tell me more lies?” Serena lifted her head in a brave show. “Okay, so you know it all.” He backhanded her then, a facial blow that sent her flying backward. The dog began barking, jumping sideways, looking from one to the other, and Carly thought briefly how it must be for children to witness such violence between their parents. She was momentarily frozen in shock. When she could move again, she knelt next to Serena in the damp leaves. Serena’s hair was framed by their bright colors. “You fucker,” Carly said, looking up as he towered over them. He grasped Carly by the hair, pulling her to her feet. It was unbelievably painful. Fleetingly, she thought this must be like being scalped. Through a ringing in her ears, she heard the dog barking, Serena shouting something. “What’d you call me?” “Fucker,” she repeated, her eyes running. When he jerked her hair in reply, she stood on her tiptoes to take the pressure off. “Let her go,” Serena shouted, on her feet, trying to extricate his fingers from Carry’s hair. He dropped Carly, so that she fell into a pile at his feet. He kicked her idly,

then harder. She was gasping for breath when his boot connected with her head. The pain dimmed, and everything darkened.

XVI She couldn’t have been out long, she thought when she awakened and squinted at the light, her body one continuous ache. In fact, she would have sworn that she’d heard them talking, arguing, and that she’d heard the dog still barking. But they were gone, even the dog. She rolled on her back, wincing at the pain the movement roused. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. She had no idea how to deal with it. At first, she thought she’d go to the sheriff. It was assault, after all, and Serena might be in danger. But how would she explain Jess’s anger? She lay in the leaves next to the abandoned blanket, on which rested the remains of the picnic and the basket, and tried to decide on a course of action. The sun dangled low in the west, close to dropping out of sight. The air felt cool, even without a breeze. She knew she needed to reach her car before the light was gone. Testing her ability to move, she sat up. The scenery spun, her head began to split inside, vomit rose up her throat, and she nearly passed out. On all fours, she slowly gathered up the leftover food and paper and plasticware. She would go to the hotel and talk to Dan. Maybe he would have some ideas. Staggering the long way back to the car, pausing only to shift hands on the basket, she forced herself into single-mindedness, putting her pain aside, worrying instead about Serena. Where had he taken her? In the parking lot she came across the dog, lying where Serena’s truck had been, looking down the road. Getting to his feet, he came to her, his tail swinging in slow motion, his head low ​ a supplicant. “The bastard went off and left you too, didn’t he?” she said softly, stroking the dark head. “Come on, fella.” She opened the passenger door of the

Saturn, and the dog climbed in. Wincing, she rolled down the window so that he could get his snout out, then she put the picnic stuff in the trunk and carefully got behind the wheel. She remembered one of her friends having an affair with a married woman whose husband stubbornly clung to the marriage. She recalled thinking that she would never become involved with a married woman. At least, the woman’s husband had not been a violent man. And here she was acting in the same way, in a manner that she considered dangerously stupid, if no longer inappropriate. She found herself unwilling to give up Serena, certainly not to Jess. That would seem like a betrayal. Unable to remember how it had all come out, she wished she could talk to that old friend now. The woman had left town eventually, but why or where she went Carly couldn’t recall. Hunching over the steering wheel, she worried that one or more of her ribs was cracked or broken. Taking shallow breaths lessened the stabbing pain that occurred with each inhalation. Dusk had crept over the landscape, the time of day when deer emerged from the woods and crossed the roads. That was all she needed right now, to hit something big. Concentrating on the blacktop and the side ditches, she drove in a daze to town, surprised when she found herself on the outskirts. Parking in front of the hotel, she told the dog she’d be back soon and carefully extricated herself from the car. “Carly.” Andrew walked up behind her and put his hand on her elbow. She turned and heard him suck in air. “What happened?” She told him in as few words as possible. “I have to find Serena. She might need help.” “You need to see a doctor first,” he said. “I’ll go with you.” “The dog’s in the car.”

“He’ll be fine. It’s not hot out.” He steered her toward his vehicle, parked behind hers. “I have to lock up.” “Got your keys and purse?” She nodded, but he was already locking the Saturn. “Let’s go— The woman behind the counter in the small hospital looked up with a smile that quickly faded. “Do I look that bad?” Carly asked. “Let’s do the paperwork and get you in to see someone. Do you have insurance?” The woman keyed the necessary information into the computer, then told Andrew where to take her. “If you have to take your clothes off, I’m out of there,” he said as he steered her down the hall. “Not into the ladies, are you?” She was dizzy again and slightly nauseous, her head pounding with each step. Whenever she stood still for a moment, as she had while her intake was being processed, she stiffened up. “You all right?” Andrew’s hand steadied her. “Not really. I need to sit down.” “Ah, here we are.” He settled her into a chair. She started to lower her head between her legs, but that made the ache unbearable. “I think I’m going to puke.” Andrew jumped for the nearest wastebasket and put it in front of her.

Supper came out in a retching rush, leaving her breathless, her throat raw, her headache intolerable, and she felt Andrew catch her before she plunged headfirst into the wastebasket. Next she knew, she was strapped onto a gurney. A doctor, she assumed, was leaning over her asking her to open her eyes. When she did, squinting up at him, he lifted the lids. “Can I have an aspirin?” she asked. He shook his head. “Aspirin causes bleeding, and you have a concussion. We’re going to keep an eye on you for a while. If you’re not allergic to it, I’ll order Tylenol with codeine for the pain.” He turned to Andrew, whom she saw was sitting near the door. “Are you a relative? Brother? Son?” She bristled a little, but then Andrew was almost young enough to be her son. “Friend. Does that qualify for anything?” “You can stay with her if you like. Just keep her quiet.” “Serena,” she said, half rising. Who would check on her? “The dog.” Queenie would need water, a walk, and food sooner or later. She carefully lay her head back down. “I’ll call Dan. Then I’ll take care of the dog and look for Serena.” “Take him to our house, not his. The key to the car is in my purse.” The doctor had left, replaced by a heavyset woman who gave Carly the pain medication. Her tag identified her as Jennifer, and she bustled around the room on silent feet, her polyester pantsuit legs swishing against each other. Carly closed her eyes and waited for the throbbing to subside. Behind her lids she tried to recall the details of the confrontation, but all she could bring forth were flashing images. Jess backhanding Serena; herself shouting at

him; him picking her up by the hair, then kicking her as she rolled herself into a ball. When she next awoke, Daniel was leaning over her. “Deputy Johnson wants to talk to you.” “Who?” She thought he was kidding. Deputy Dawg came to mind. And then she saw a man dressed in brown standing nearby. He approached the other side of the gurney. She moved her head, winced, and looked around him for Jennifer. “Can I have another Tylenol?” “Sure.” The woman hurried over, handing her a pill in a cup and water in a glass with a straw. “There you go. Are you up to talking to anyone?” She glanced at the deputy with distrust. “I guess. Maybe I could have a minute with my brother first?” “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be right outside,” Johnson said, moving toward the door. In spite of his considerable bulk, he moved with agility. “Me too,” Jennifer echoed and followed him out of the room. “How much am I going to tell?” she asked in a half-whisper. “What happened?” Dan scowled fiercely. “He caught us in the act, knocked Serena down, grabbed me by the hair, then dropped me, and finished off by kicking the shit out of me. Should I leave out his catching us in the act?” His jaw clenched, his hands tightened into fists. “Unless he asks, yeah.” She told her censored version of the facts, and Johnson wrote it all down. “Is there anything else?” “Like what?” she asked.

“Why do you think this Jess was so angry?” She measured her words carefully. “He doesn’t want his wife to have anyone else in her life.” “I see. You are her friend then?” “Yes. Her good friend.” “And nothing else?” “What else would there be?” she asked, her face hot. “Were you more than a friend?” Johnson’s tongue flickered against his full lips nervously. His cheeks flushed under the dark shadow of his beard. She looked at Dan, who lifted his eyebrows as if to say, Well? At the edge of her vision she saw Jennifer listening. No one was going to rescue her. “Yes,” she admitted, and it was like a door opened. She said it louder, “Yes, I was.” “I see.” Johnson cleared his throat. “Of course, that doesn’t give him the right to assault you.” “He took her away while I was unconscious. I’m worried about her.” “I’m sure you are. I’ll go out to their place. Want to come into the department and sign a statement tomorrow when you feel better?” Shortly after the officer left, Carly walked out of the hospital on Dan’s arm. Steering her toward his truck, he opened the passenger door and helped her in, then closed it behind her, making her wince at the sound. He’d drive her into town tomorrow to get her car, he said, when he got behind the wheel. In the pickup, she sat very still. Moving her head made her nauseous. In her hand she clutched a bottle of prescription Tylenol with codeine. When they drove past Serena’s place, though, she turned her head and looked. The pickup

truck was parked in its usual spot; the house was dark. Dan stopped in front of the porch and led her by the elbow into the house. He switched on a few lights as she carefully lay down on the davenport and pulled an afghan her grandmother had made over her lower half. She wondered where Andrew and the dog were. They should be home by now. “Where the hell is Andrew?” Dan echoed her thoughts. “He was going to try to find Serena. I thought he’d bring the dog here first.” “Maybe I better go look for him.” Dan paused in his pacing to glare at her. “I know. I feel terrible about all this.” He went into the kitchen, and she heard the refrigerator door open, ice cubes being dropped in glass, liquid pouring. Returning with two drinks, he handed her the one with water and then sat in the old easy chair. In a few minutes, he jumped out of the chair, set the glass down, and grabbed a jacket. “I’m going to drive around a little.” Too sick to worry about being left alone, she said, “I’ll be here.” “You better not go anywhere. If Andrew shows up, keep him here. I’ll check back in half an hour. Keep the door locked.” She must have fallen asleep, because she started raising herself on her elbows when she heard the key in the door. The sudden movement filled her throat with hot liquid. The room spun, and she decided she’d just as soon be murdered as get up. When the dog licked her cheek, she smiled and placed a hand on his back. “It’s good to see you, too, Queenie. Where have you been? Daniel’s out looking for you.” “You okay?” Andrew asked, his voice coming from somewhere above her. She opened one eye and squinted at him. “Did you find her?”

“Nope. I even went to the truck stop where Jess had left the truck. He picked it up today.” Was it only that morning she’d seen Jess at the minimart? The minimart. No way could she go to work tomorrow. “Will you call Larry and tell him I can’t make tomorrow’s shift?” When Dan returned, having found no one, Andrew was in the kitchen popping popcorn.

XVII She remained on the couch all night, having fallen into a sleep like a small death while Andrew and Dan were talking. Awakening to pale light, one hand resting on Queenie who lay snoring softly on the floor by her side, she moaned when she shifted her position. Her bladder was uncomfortably full and she had to pee, but the thought of getting up kept her in place. Expecting to be dizzy and nauseous, she forced herself to a sitting position and waited for the room to settle while she swallowed rapidly. Tottering on unsteady legs to the bathroom, she looked at her pupils in the mirror. They were huge. Was that good or bad, she wondered. She stripped and got in the shower, wincing when the stream of water hit her body. She had bruises the size of soccer balls and a huge lump on the side of her head. Washing her hair and body gingerly, she considered her options. She could lie on the couch and worry, or she could call the trucking lines and make some inquiries. Maybe she could intercept Jess and Serena at a truck stop, if she knew where they were heading. Rinsing off, she stepped out of the shower, patted herself halfway dry, and struggled into her clothes. Running her fingers carefully through her hair ​ no way could she imagine pulling a brush through it ​ she left the bathroom. She headed for the phone, determined to locate Serena. “Why are you up and who are you talking to?” She jumped at Dan’s voice and pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder. “I’m on hold.” “Ginny arid Barb called last night, wanting you to come over for the weekend. I told them what happened. If you don’t go there, they’ll come here.”

“Sounds like a threat.” She hung up the receiver before the man came back on the line with the truckers’ schedule. “Why’d you hang up?” “Suspicious, aren’t you?” she said, taking a sip of coffee. It made her feel pukey, but she was determined to put the sick feelings behind her. She had to. “You bet.” He poured himself a cup. “You’re going to look for her, aren’t you, even though he nearly killed you?” Andrew came into the room. “I’ll take you into town to get your car later. We’ll go to the sheriffs office first. Maybe they have a lead.” She wanted them both to leave, although she thought she might be able to get Andrew to side with her. “Don’t you have to work?” “See? She wants to get rid of us, then she’ll hightail it out of here.” “The sheriff might have caught up with them,” Andrew said. “Let’s check with their office first.” Daniel looked from one to the other with disgust and headed for the door with his coffee. “I’m going to shower now. If you get yourself killed, Carly, I’ll never forgive you.” She laughed, which made her head pound. “How’s that for a threat?” “Promise me you won’t go anywhere before we find out what’s going on,” Andrew insisted. “Okay. But I better call this guy back while Dan’s in the shower.” Furtively, she pushed in the number and was greeted with a busy signal. She patted the dog, who sat with one warm haunch on her bare foot. “Take care of Queenie, will you?”

Andrew drove a company car, a year-old Taurus, which rode smoothly over the blacktop. Parking outside the sheriffs office next to the fire department, he scurried around the car and helped her out. Inside, the anteroom was bleak evidence that her taxes weren’t being spent on cosmetics. The floor was tiled in a drab gray, the chairs made of orange plastic, the walls painted a yellowish white. An overhead light with a low-watt bulb inside the fly-filled globe supplemented the daylight seeping in through two dirty windows. A woman behind the counter led her and Andrew down the hall to a room where Deputy Johnson smiled up at them over a paper-strewn desk. A nameplate personalized him: TED JOHNSON. “Feeling better?” he asked her, shaking hands with both of them. “I am, but not much. Did you find them?” “The Castles?” He paged through the sheets in front of him. She nodded. Who else? “No. We have a warrant out for his arrest, though. We’ve talked to the trucking company and know where he’s going. He’ll be picked up.” He extracted the typed statement of her account of the assault and turned it so that she could read it. The words on the page wavered, and she asked Andrew to read them before she signed. Maybe she wouldn’t have to go after Jess and Serena. Maybe the cops would find them. “Will he be released on bond?” “He has that right, if he comes up with the money.” But it wouldn’t be immediately. He’d have to appear before a judge first. She would have time to get away with Serena. She decided to sit tight for a day or two and wait for them to be returned. Driving her own car home, she squinted painfully in the glare of daylight. It

was the second full week in October, warm, windy, and overcast. Every once in while the sun peeped out, giving her an instant headache. Queenie greeted her at the door, his relief so blatant that she was sure he thought he’d been abandoned again. He seemed gladder to see her than when he’d last lived with her. “Good dog,” she said, moving past him toward the couch. “Come on, let’s lie down.” She wakened to the dog barking. He stood spraddle-legged in front of the door, tail wagging. “Shush, Queenie,” she said, her heart suddenly lunging. How much excitement could it take? “Who is it?” she called. Had Andrew or Daniel forgotten their keys? The clock on the mantel showed it to be nearly four. The light had moved to the other side of the house, slanting through the west windows. “Serena.” At the sound of her voice, the dog jumped up and down, toenails clicking. Forgetting her need to move slowly, Carly hurried to fling the door wide, and Queenie, uttering little yelps, threw himself on his mistress. Serena put her arms around Carly, the dog sandwiched between them. “I was afraid he’d killed you,” Serena’s cheeks were streaked. Angry bruises the size of a large hand marked the sides of her face. Her hair hung in a loose ponytail, looking as if it could use a good wash. “I brought some clothes to change into.” She gestured toward the truck. “Hoity Toity’s in the truck. I can’t let Jess find her if they release him.” The sight of Serena, safe and apparently no more harmed than herself, galvanized her. “You take a shower. I’ll get my stuff. We’ll be out of here before they let him go.” Carly threw some clothes and some personal effects into a bag, which she carried downstairs. She poked her head into the bathroom as Serena

grabbed a towel. Taking it from her, Carly dried Serena gently, noting the black-and-blue areas hidden by clothing. “We need to hurry, sweetie.” “Won’t they hold him overnight? It’s kind of late in the day to be going anywhere.” “I know, but we can’t take that chance.” Carly was suddenly frantic, barely glancing backward when they left the house. She had taken the time to write Dan a note: I’ll be in touch. Please call the minimart and tell Larry I had to move. It was futile to tell Dan not to worry. Hoity Toity meowed from her kennel on the passenger seat, poking small paws in supplication through gaps between the bars. Serena had said, “Whatever you do, don’t let her out. Last time she was loose in a vehicle, she hid under the seats and bit me.” Instead, she talked soothingly to the feline. “We’re fleeing, kitty cat, running from the big bad man.” Carly was glad she’d had enough foresight to keep cash in her dresser drawer for an anticipated escape. Apparently, Serena had done the same. Only Serena had buried her stash in a plastic bag under garden bark among the yews. Together they had enough to make a security deposit and pay the first month’s rent on an apartment. She didn’t want to contact friends because Dan might trace her that way, and Jess would be watching Dan. That night they’d sleep in a motel. They reached the Milwaukee outskirts after dark. Parking at a McDonald’s, Serena fed and watered the animals and walked the dog over to some bushes while Carly went inside and ordered fries, cheeseburgers, and coffee. Looking over to where Serena stood waiting with Queenie as the dog sniffed the shrubbery, she wondered at their being here, at Serena having finally made the split. She joined one of the four lines shuffling toward the order counter. A little girl around Francine’s age stood in front of her. Twisting in her mother’s grasp, she stared up at Carly. “Did you fall down?”

She smilingly lied, “I tripped on the stairs. Knocked myself out.” “Oh,” the girl said, apparently satisfied. “What are you going to have?” she asked the child. “A full meal deal.” “Come on, honey. Leave the lady alone,” the girl’s mother put in. Carly dropped the attempt to communicate. The kid’s mother probably didn’t want her talking to strangers. When she got to the counter, she placed her order with a teenager, who pushed the correct keys on the cash register without looking at her. After paying, she stepped aside to wait. Outside in the warm night, she carried the food to a picnic table where Serena sat near their vehicles. Serena gave her a heartbreaking smile. “You look like you’ve had it. Maybe we should have waited till tomorrow.” Carly had been running on sheer determination, and now that she felt reasonably safe, that will was draining out of her. “We’re going to have to find a place to light soon.” “Someplace that takes pets.” Serena popped a fry in her mouth and took a bite of the cheeseburger. “I haven’t eaten all day, except for a couple of doughnut holes this morning. Tastes good.” “Maybe I should look in a phone book and call ahead.” A few miles down the road, Carly checked them into a nearby Exel under a phony name and asked for the last unit on the first floor. While she carried the bags and the now screeching cat inside the unit, Serena walked the dog over to the line of trees that separated the motel property from the next one. They were lucky that this particular motel chain allowed pets. Flopping for a moment on the queen-size bed, Carly closed her eyes and felt as if she were disappearing. She quickly snapped them open.

“Well?” Serena said, sitting next to her and smoothing her forehead with a cool hand. She had released the cat from its kennel, and it was prowling the room, rubbing against the furniture. Queenie rested his head companionably on the coverlet. “Crowded in here,” Carly said with a grin. She was becoming cautiously excited. They’d finally made the break; they had decisions to make together. “I was so worried about you. Did you know that? He never left me alone long enough to call.” “He never peed or took a crap?” Serena gave her a wounded smile. “He tied me in the truck during those times and stood outside the bathroom door when I went.” “Yeah, well, I carried all the picnic stuff out to my car and took the dog with me. I ended up in emergency with a concussion.” She touched Serena’s bruised cheek. “How about you? Do you have a headache?” “I think he loosened a few teeth.” Serena moved her tongue over her gums. “I’m sorry, Carly. We should have done this long ago. It’s just that I tried it before, and he always found me and made things worse.” “Why didn’t you go to the cops?” Serena emitted a soft, deprecating snort. “Jess doesn’t respect anyone’s rights or the law, so what good does it do to get a restraining order or call in the police? It won’t keep him away, not until he gets what he wants or gets even.” She lifted an eyebrow as if in emphasis. Chilled by the words, Carly stroked Serena’s cheek and hair until Serena curled up next to her. Here they were truly alone at last, and making love was the last thing she wanted to do. Wrapping their arms and legs around

each other, they fell asleep in the dim glow of the lamp next to the bed. Later in the night, Carly awakened with a start. Serena had fallen away from her and lay fetuslike with her back turned. Stiff and cold, she got quietly out of bed and covered Serena before making her way to the bathroom. The traffic outside had not abated much; cars and trucks whizzed by in rapid succession. Removing her clothes, she slid between the sheets and switched off the light, then listened to the sounds of the busy highway until she drifted off again. Next morning she woke up when Serena took Queenie out, closing the door quietly behind them. Hoity Toity meowed pitifully, and she picked the cat up, stroking her into silence. Here they were with all this animal baggage, hoping to disappear into the city.

XVIII At breakfast, they bought a Milwaukee Sentinel and scanned the classifieds for apartments. From the restaurant window they caught sight of Queenie, ears perked, eyes glued to the spot where he last saw them. Carly imagined Hoity meowing plaintively, pawing the air outside her kennel imploringly. Their fear of abandonment, their anxiety of displacement, could not be stilled by words. “Let’s call a few of these places,” Serena suggested. They had circled ones that accepted pets. Driving to look at a second-story flat on Murray on the near northeast side of the city, they negotiated streets made narrow by parked cars. Serena craned her neck, reading aloud the street numbers. They had parked her truck in an open lot, taking both the dog and the cat with them in the Saturn. Carly noticed her car was beginning to smell like the animals. Slipping into an empty spot where a car had just pulled out, she turned off the engine. “We’re close enough to walk.” “You guys stay here,” Serena said as they locked the doors behind them. “They’re so worried.” Carly grunted. The street was lined with maples that had turned a bright yellow. “How do they know we’ll come back?” “We always do,” Serena said, hooking her arm around Carly’s. They were near the gay bookstore and the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. “This would be a nice area to live.” “Very different from where we have been living, though.” Carly had a fleeting moment of nostalgic longing for the place on Tamarack Creek. The wooded ridge that ran along the trout stream had been a riot of colors the

day they’d left, and she’d barely noticed. Who knew when she’d see the land again, which made her think of Dan. She hoped he wasn’t too mad, or worse, looking for her. She would give him a call tonight. The sun warmed her head and shoulders. A slight breeze kicked up the leaves on the ground, sending them skittering across the sidewalk in front of them. Serena stopped before an old two-story house with an open front porch. “This is it,” Serena said. Carly imagined the smell inside ​ the odors of a million meals trapped in faded wallpaper and dusty carpets. Nevertheless, they marched up the walk, climbed the porch steps, and rang the doorbell. The sound echoed within. When they were about to ring again, an older woman appeared in the hallway. The woman inquired through the screening, “Yes?” “Is the flat rented?” Serena asked, holding up the classifieds. The woman swung the screen open. “Not yet. Want to have a look?” She was probably in her sixties with warm blue eyes and thin gray hair. Wrinkles fanned away from her eyes and mouth when she smiled, giving her face a crumpled, friendly look. They climbed the stairs behind the woman, waiting while she unlocked a door in the upper hallway of the second floor. Following her inside, they gazed around. Pale wallpaper with tiny blue flowers climbing a once white background covered the walls. The kitchen was at one end: a small space with fridge, stove, sink, some cupboards, and counter separating it from the living room. The window in the living room offered, through smudged panes, a view of the two-story house next door. A window opened onto a grated fire escape that led down to the backyard and alley. A large bedroom and a small bathroom with a tub/shower enclosure made up the other two rooms.

Carly hadn’t thought of having to furnish space. It would take a chunk out of her savings. She turned to Serena, who was talking to the woman. “It says in the paper that pets are allowed,” Serena said. “What kind of pets?” the woman, who had introduced herself as Lily Miller, asked. “A dog and a cat, both well behaved.” The woman chewed on her lower lip. “Where are they?” “In the car,” Serena replied. Lily Miller grunted. “I beg your pardon?” Serena asked. “Well, I guess so, as long as they don’t make noise and don’t mess on the floors.” Serena looked at Carly. “What do you think?” “I’ll be downstairs,” Lily said, giving them a chance to talk. “There’s no furniture,” Carly remarked. “We’ll go to Goodwill and pick up some things.” Serena took charge. “Let’s give the woman some money before she rents it to someone else.” She pointed toward the fire escape. “We even have a balcony.” Carly laughed. “Accessible by climbing out a window.” “We can put plants on it in the summer.” They clattered down the stairs, found the woman sitting on a swing on the front porch, and gave her cash for the deposit and first month’s rent.

“When are you moving in?” she asked, writing out a receipt on a pad she pulled from a pocket. “Today,” Carly told her. In Goodwill, Carly looked around at the dismal selection of furniture ​ an ancient Danish modern couch and chair with scratched arms and caved-in cushions, a wobbly kitchen table and chairs, a coffee table with rings and burned spots on it, a lamp with a stained shade. “No.” She grabbed Serena’s arm and started for the door. “We’re going to buy new stuff?” Serena squinted at her in the parking lot as they stood next to their vehicles. She reached in the truck window and patted Queenie’s head. “Cheap stuff.” “Where?” “We passed a place down the road. Rent to buy.” “I’ll follow.” It wasn’t awful furniture, Carly thought, barely used. They picked out a double bed, a table and two chairs, a couch and easy chair, lamps, and end tables. The salesman said they would deliver that afternoon. Driving back to Murray Street, they sat on the porch steps with the dog on a leash and the cat meowing in her kennel. They still had to grocery shop. The afternoon light glowed through the yellow maple leaves. An anxious Queenie pressed himself against Serena’s side. Carly thought this move must be hardest on the animals. There was no way to explain it to them. She reached behind Serena and stroked the dog’s back. His hair felt wiry. They turned as Lily Miller came out on the porch, wiping her hands on a

dishtowel. “Why don’t you girls sit on the swing or the chairs.” They exchanged a glance and moved to the swing, putting Hoity’s kennel on the seat between them. “Maybe it’ll make Hoity calm down,” Serena said. But the motion only made her more frantic, so Serena swung the kennel to the floor. Queenie was now leaning against Serena’s legs. They sat quietly until the furniture truck pulled up out front. Two young men lugged the large pieces up the stairs while Serena and Carly carried the lamps and end tables. The rooms looked almost as empty with the furniture in place. When the men left, Serena said, “Well, sweetheart, now we’re gqing to have to get sheets and towels.” It was the first time Serena had addressed her with such an endearment, and Carly felt oddly touched. “I brought some, but we do need to get something to put in the fridge.” Afraid to leave them alone in a strange place, they took the dog and cat with them to the nearest store, a Piggly Wiggly, and left them in Carly’s Saturn. The cat, which hated riding in vehicles, was so traumatized that she began to yowl. They raced through the store, buying milk and butter, a hunk of cheese, bread, pasta and sauce, lunchmeat, sugar, coffee, paper towels, toilet paper, and dish detergent. Carly carried two bags of food up the stairs while Serena lugged the cat kennel and the third bag. The dog followed on his lead. Exhausted, Carly collapsed on the couch once the groceries were put away. Resting her head against the back, she viewed the cracked ceiling. It amazed her to think that only a day ago they had left Tamarack Creek. “I should call Dan,” she said, feeling too weary to drag herself off.

“We’ll take Queenie for a walk soon, once Hoity is settled, and find a phone. That’s something we have to buy.” “We’d be less easy to find without one.” They’d have to get an unlisted number. Dan answered on the first ring. “It’s me,” she said. “What was all that noise?” “I dropped the phone. Where the hell are you?” “I can’t say, but we’re all right.” There was a pause. “You can’t tell me?” “The less people who know where we are, the less likely Jess is to find us. Is he out?” “Of course he’s out. There’s no one to press charges. He’s been here twice.” Daniel sounded furious. “Hey, calm down. Aren’t you glad we’re safe?” A huge sigh filled her ear. “I wish none of this had ever happened. How will you ever come home?” “I will, just as soon as I can. I promise.” She meant it. “I’ve got to go now.” Blinking away tears when she hung up, she turned to Serena. They were standing in the lot of a filling station at a pay phone with only a plastic shield sheltering the phone itself. Streetlights came on as dusk closed around them. “Well?” Serena asked. She shrugged. “Jess is out, of course, since we’re not there to press

charges.” “He’d be out anyway on bail. Some police protection.” Bitterness leaked through her matter-of-fact tone. Linking arms, they walked toward the apartment. The wind had died; the night was warm. Queenie looked up at them every few feet as if to be reassured of their presence. Hoity Toity was lying on the chair as if this had been home all along. Carla, who thought animals didn’t belong on furniture, picked her up and put her on the cushioned stool that Serena had brought from home. “This is your bed.” The cat meowed plaintively. Except for the previous night at the motel, it was the first time they’d slept together an entire night. Undressing on opposite sides, they slipped into the newly made bed. Queenie curled and settled with a thump on his blankets in the corner of the room. Dim light from the street cast shadows, and the sound of traffic quickly became a constant background noise. Carly curled up against Serena with a sigh. She lacked the enthusiasm for anything more than the comfort that came with proximity. Serena stirred against her, moving closer. “This is nice, isn’t it, sweetie?” Grunting in reply, Carly remembered the passion that had spurted between them when they had to sneak around to make love. Would it die without the excitement that fueled it? As Serena’s breathing evened, Carly rolled away. She was lying on the side near the open window where a whisper of breeze touched her. The dog snored softly in his corner. She realized she had focused so much on getting away that she hadn’t given much thought to what living somewhere else would be like. She’d thought just being with Serena would be enough. Now she wasn’t so sure. There was a lot of giving up on both sides.

Serena had not only fled from her home and husband, but she had also given up the nursery before the season ended, without so much as a sign that indicated it was closed. Carly had jerked herself out by the roots with hardly a backward glance. When she closed her eyes, she saw the homestead she loved in its summer garb and felt a stab of grief. Who knew when they’d be back? Finally she, too, drifted off, awakening once when Hoity Toity’s weight hit the mattress at their feet. She would have to teach the cat to sleep in her own bed, starting tomorrow. Tonight she was too tired.

XIX The smell of coffee dripping drifted into Carly’s sleep, wakening her. She got out of bed, the floorboards cool under her feet. Pulling on socks and sweats, she made her way to the other room. Serena looked up and smiled. “How are you, darling?” The newspaper rested on the counter, the dog’s leash lay by the door. “You’ve been out already?” “First one up takes the dog out and gets the paper.” “Is that a fact?” she said, kissing Serena on the cheek, the mouth. Serena ran fingers up through Carly’s hair. “There, that’s better. You looked like a unicorn.” Carly took the classifieds and a cup of coffee to the sofa, where Hoity was ensconced. “Off, dark spot. Go lie in your own place,” she said, gently lifting the cat to the floor. “Come sit with me, sweets.” She patted the cushion next to her, and the cat jumped onto it. “Not you, my furry friend.” Putting the meowing cat on the floor once more, she looked expectantly at Serena. “I’ve circled a few employment ads. What would you like for breakfast?” “God, how long have you been up?” She glanced at her watch. It was not quite eight o’clock. “Since Queenie stuck her wet nose in my face.” Serena sat next to her, tucking a foot under. “I don’t think we should try for jobs like the ones we just had. Too obvious.” Carly studied Serena. In the morning sunlight, the wrinkles fanning out from her eyes and puckering her upper lip were clearly visible. Years in the sun

had left their mark. Leaning over, she kissed her and was surprised by passion. In the bedroom, she removed Serena’s T-shirt and jeans, then pulled off her own clothes. They snuggled under the covers, cold in their nakedness, shrinking from each other’s hands, breasts and bellies pressed together. Carly felt herself loosen as desire spread through her. She cupped her hands between her thighs and when they warmed, moved them slowly over Serena, lingering at her breasts, gravitating to the cleft between her legs. An hour passed before they dressed and returned to the living room. This time she smiled when she saw the cat on the sofa, thinking that Hoity looked like she felt right then, satisfied and relaxed. Still, she put the animal on the floor before sitting down herself. Over toast they decided to go to a temporary job agency, and then they showered and dressed for the day. Carly drove with Serena to an agency where they were put through a battery of tests. Carly scored high on keyboarding. Not a surprise. Serena’s talents lay in customer relations. Carly could have told them that; she remembered Serena dealing with the people who came into the nursery. The woman at the agency said they should call her every day since they had no phone. “I guess we have to get a telephone,” Carly said reluctantly as they left the building. “I should have brought the one I never unboxed.” They’d left in such a hurry. “And an answering machine,” Serena added. “You know how I feel, Carly?” Carly shook her head. “Safe. Free. Relaxed. I can’t tell you what that’s like for me. They got into Carly’s Saturn and sat looking at each other. “I’m glad,” Carly said finally. “Let’s go out for lunch?”

“Kind of late, isn’t it?” “We can order some wine to celebrate and skip supper.” They drove to a restaurant on the corner a few blocks east of the apartment. The hostess seated them at a table near the windows. Over sandwiches and fries and glasses of Sauvignon Blanc, they talked about the sort of placements the temp agency might snare them. “Do you mind going back to data processing?” Serena asked. A huge spider plant hung near her head, its tendrils touching her hair. “It’s what I do best. And you?” Serena leaned back in her chair so that the spider plant looked like it was somehow attached. “For me, some kind of work with the public, maybe marketing.” They guessed right. Carly worked data entry on a temporary basis, and Serena sold options to telephone customers. After the first week, Serena’s job became permanent. Foolishly, they felt safe from Jess’s efforts to find them. He began to fade from Carly’s thoughts. She stopped the proverbial looking over her shoulder and threw herself into this new life. On her way home from work, she passed a secondhand shop. Nearly every day, she picked up small additions to their household. Ornamental baskets, a teak salad bowl set, a couple of brightly colored throw rugs, two somewhat battered stools for the kitchen counter, a set of wine glasses. One day Carly brought home a bookcase. She lugged it up the stairs, pausing to set it on a step and catch her breath. It was awkward to carry alone. Lily Miller leaned around the stair railing, then hurried up. “Let me help you.” She grabbed a leg.

“Thanks.” Carly turned the bookcase sideways and caught hold of it from the top. She unlocked the apartment door and shuffled backward until they were completely inside and could set it down. The dog danced awkwardly around them. Hoity jumped off the couch, meowing. The message light blinked in the dim room. These days the sun officially set by five o’clock. She switched on the floor lamp. “There. I’ll have to decide where to put it later. Thanks again.” When Carly took down the leash from a hook behind the door, Lily moved toward the door. Outside, Carly and the dog walked around the block. Queenie paused at every tree to sniff and pee, turning what should have been ten minutes into half an hour. All the while, Carly kept an eye out for Serena’s truck. She clambered up the stairs and unlocked the apartment with hope in her heart, even though she knew Serena wasn’t there. “Let’s see who called,” she said, pushing the button. Serena’s voice said, “I’m going to be late tonight. Go ahead and eat without me. I said I’d have a drink with some of the others here. Don’t be mad, honey.” But Carly was immediately angry. And jealous. No one had invited her to have a drink. She only said hello and good-bye to her coworkers; she even ate lunch alone at her station. It pissed her off royally to think of Serena laughing and talking with people whom Carly had never met, while she took care of Serena’s pets. Heating up the previous night’s dinner, she ate it on the couch, using a TV tray for a table. They had bought a nineteen-inch television set and a video machine over the weekend, but there was nothing on she wanted to watch. She should have invited Lily to stay, but she really didn’t want company other than Serena tonight.

Walking the bookcase to a bare wall next to a window, she emptied the one box of books she’d brought with her and stacked the shelves. With that done, she opened her computer and finished writing the letter to Janie that she’d been working on for two weeks. Explaining why she had moved and why she couldn’t say where had caused her to delete whole paragraphs. She promised to call in a few days. She would do so from a pay phone. Afraid to write to Dan, fearful that Jess would be watching the mailbox, she started a letter anyway and told him they were well, they had jobs and a place to live. She would send the letter through Barb and Ginny, asking them to re-address and mail it. Jess must not see the postmark. At nine-thirty she went to bed with a book, hoping to submerge her worry by reading. She thought she would only feel relief when Serena came home. However, upon hearing the key in the lock at ten to ten, her righteous anger returned. When Serena leaned against the bedroom’s doorjamb, Carly switched the light out and rolled into a ball. Serena jumped on the bed and straddled Carly with her knees. “You are mad,” she said when Carly covered her face with an arm. Serena smelled of wine and secondhand smoke. “Get off of me,” Carly hissed, swallowing accusations. Hadn’t she left Tamarack Creek to be with Serena, temporarily at least giving up family and friends? Instead, Serena wrestled with her, turning Carly on her back, pinning her arms to the mattress while sitting on her hips. She tried to kiss Carly, who flipped her head from side to side to avoid the contact. Carly spit hair out of her mouth. “Stop it,” she said, attempting without success to contain the laughter burbling up her throat, convulsing her. She renewed her efforts to throw Serena off as Queenie pranced around the bed anxiously. They ended up curled in tormented mirth. Carly’s hilarity turned to tears, which ended in hiccups. Serena gathered her in her arms, but she pulled

away. In the dark, she found the sugar bowl and ate a spoonful, holding her breath while she did. It always got rid of hiccups for her. “Next time I’ll call and you can join us. It wasn’t much fun without you.” Serena sat up and turned on a bedside light. She looked drunk. For a moment, Carly was a teenager again, coming home in the wee hours smelling of beer and cigarettes, to face her mother’s tight-lipped disapproval. Because of that, she had refused to wait up for Janie. However, she’d always heard her daughter’s return home, listened to her stumbling steps on the stairs, and knew she’d been drinking. The next morning she would confront Janie with her displeasure. What was the difference now, she wondered. Serena was an adult. She sat on the edge of the mattress, sipping water. “Where’d you go?” “Can’t remember the name of the bar. There were three of us. Pete’s okay, but this other woman’s a bore. All she talked about was her boyfriend. I finally left in a stupor. So did Pete.” Carly was thinking about the shape their life would take, the kinds of friends they would have, the events they would go to. She got under the covers and let Serena hold her and thought about Tamarack Creek. She saw the trout stream twisting darkly through grassy banks under branches of weeping willows. A longing for the place swept through her, and she turned away from Serena. “Let’s try to sleep,” she said, knowing that she wouldn’t. The next day at work, she stopped at the work station next to hers. “I’m going outside to eat lunch. Want to come with?” It was surprisingly warm for the end of October. Her coworker, Bonnie something-or-other, looked up with surprise. “Sure.” There were four picnic tables on the mowed expanse surrounding the building. With a paper napkin she wiped a clean surface on which to set

her bagged lunch. Carly found herself searching for something to talk about. However, Bonnie had no such trouble. “This has got to be the most tedious job in the world, don’t you think?” “There’s worse,” Carly replied, biting into her turkey sandwich. “What do you do for entertainment?” “Go to movies, read books, watch TV What do you do?” “Except for the movies, about the same.” “The Fox is showing at the Arts Theater this weekend. I’ve been trying to get someone to go with me. Want to?” “D. H. Lawrence?” she asked, remembering the darkness of the story, the lesbian affair tragically ended by a visitor, a man. She wondered if Bonnie knew this. Bonnie nodded. “I love these old movies.” Carly had invited Bonnie to eat lunch with her in answer to Serena’s night out. She hadn’t expected more than that. “I’ll ask my roommate if she wants to go too.”

XX Francine answered the phone, her young voice breathless as if she’d run to it. “How are you, sweets?” “It’s Grandma, Mama,” the girl shouted. Janie took the phone. “Mom. Where the hell are you?” “Can’t I talk to Francie for a minute or two?” she complained, knowing the questions that were about to follow. “Mom, this isn’t funny. Uncle Dan and I are crazy with worry.” “Well, you’d be more worried if I hadn’t left.” “Can’t you tell us where you are?” “If I do, he’ll find us. You don’t want that, believe me.” “Can’t we meet somewhere?” “And have him follow you?” “Aren’t you a little paranoid?” Was she? “Let me think about it a little, honey. Tell me how you are.” “Mom, I can’t live a life never seeing you. You are my anchor. I need you.” She blinked rapidly, hot tears appearing out of nowhere. “I need you too, Janie. Now talk to me, and then put Francie on. “Well?” Serena asked when Carly hung up. She had been standing some distance off with the dog.

“What do you think?” Carly snapped. “She’s frantic, and Dan’s worried. Andrew’s moved.” “Where?” Serena asked. Carly shrugged. “He got a promotion. I guess he visits weekends. It was only a matter of time.” She felt short-tempered. She had given up all she loved for a life with Serena. It made her feel foolish, selfish. Was Serena, whom she’d only known a few months, more important than her daughter and granddaughter? Serena slipped an arm through hers. “Come on, darling. Let’s go home and talk.” “About what?” Carly asked sullenly. “About our future.” Fallen leaves had been heaped along the curbs, waiting for pickup. A few skittered across the sidewalk in front of a light breeze. Carly and Serena passed few people, despite the warmness of the night. “Look,” Serena began when they’d locked the apartment door behind them. She unleashed the dog and gave him a treat, as, awkward and ungainly and toenails clicking, he pranced in anticipation. “Don’t say it,” Carly said angrily. “Are you a mind reader?” Serena sat next to her on the couch. Her eyebrows arched in question. “You’re going to tell me to meet Janie, to go home if I want.” “I’ll be all right. I thank you for getting me to leave. I seemed incapable of doing it on my own.” The words felt like slaps. “You can dismiss me just like that? I thought you loved me.”

Serena’s voice softened. “I do. I do. More than I can tell you, but we’ve only been here a few weeks, and you’re already homesick. You have family to think of. I don’t.” Her smile wavered and disappeared. Carly got up and poured a glass of water. Her hands were shaking. “I’d never be able to see you or talk to you. He’d watch me, follow me.” Why hadn’t she known she’d feel like this, so torn, so put upon? “I’ll meet Janie in Madison.” Was it always going to be so complicated? She would never be able to return to Tamarack Creek. They met Bonnie and Pete, whom Serena had invited, in front of the theater, bought tickets, and went into the shabby lobby. Carly carried a backpack in which she’d stuffed homemade popcorn and the large box of Dots she’d bought at the corner drugstore. Dim lights placed halfway up the walls at even intervals provided enough illumination to see the worn seats and shabby dark walls, the ancient heavy curtains drawn in front of the screen. They sat near the back in the middle section. A handful of people were scattered throughout. Pete was whispering to Serena, making her laugh. Carly offered Bonnie the box of Dots. “Hey, my favorite movie candy.” Bonnie extracted a few of the gummy pieces. “Is it kosher to bring your own?” “I brought popcorn, too. I’ll get it out when it’s dark in here.” “What a good idea.” Bonnie gestured toward Pete. “I like your friend.” “Actually, he’s not my friend. He works with Serena.” The movie was exactly as she remembered, a dark rendition of Lawrence’s story. The man won out in the end, leaving one woman dead from suicide, while rescuing the otiier from a life of lesbianism. Nothing positive about that, she thought as they left the theater.

Outside, the warm evening smelled of downed leaves. In years past, Carly thought, there would be smoke in the air from burning them. The harvest moon would rise late. It was Indian summer at its best. She took Serena’s arm in both of hers, not caring how this looked. “I’m starving.” They discussed the movie over pizza and beer. It was dated, of course, yet ahead of its time. Bonnie said, “Do you think she wanted to go with him in the end?” “Think of the pressure to marry at that time. Lawrence wrote of passion, all kinds,” Pete remarked. Carly had read Sons and Lovers during her college years, when she was dating John. John had talked endlessly about books, impressing her with his wide reading knowledge. She had seen The Fox years later when she was questioning her sexuality. It had seemed not only dark, but also compelling. She’d gone to see it twice back then, shocked and titillated by the lesbianism. “It’s not so different now, is it?” Serena said. “We’re still socialized into believing that marriage is the thing to do.” Carly knew she was carefully measuring her words, not sure where either Pete or Bonnie stood on the gay scene. She turned to Bonnie. “What made you want to see this movie?” Bonnie’s face flushed darkly, and she shrugged. “I like the old classics.” “H’m,” Carly said noncommittally. “Well, it’s nice to have an artsy theater that offers foreign and offbeat films.” They let it drop, then turned the conversation to videos and books. Carly had a buzz going from swallowing the first beer in a few long gulps. She loved earnest conversations like this one. The voices, even her own, swirled around her like little dust devils. She’d grab an idea and start to comment on it, and it would spin out of reach.

Squeezing her arm, Serena laughed at her. “We better go home while we can still find it. On the way, she and Serena leaned on each other, arm in arm. So contented was she, that when the man jumped out in front of them, she couldn’t at first comprehend why he might be there. Startled, she said stupidly, “What do you want?” “Money, honey.” Young, dark, skinny, he danced in front of them. A ball cap was pulled down over his hair, shielding his eyes, and of course, it was nighttime. She couldn’t see him well. Serena fished around in her pockets and came up with some bills, which she handed to him, shaking them as if she wanted to get rid of them. “Here. It’s all I’ve got.” He grabbed the money, still hopping from foot to foot. He wore hightopped, untied tennis shoes. Hardly more than a boy. Carly searched her jeans, finding a ten and a five and also handed them over. Suddenly, the boy’s hand darted out to squeeze Serena’s left breast. She gasped, and the sound galvanized Carly, sending her into a rage. She threw herself at him and, laughing, he broke her momentum with one hand so that she fell onto the sidewalk. Then he snatched the backpack from her, wrenching her shoulders. A car was approaching, and the youth vanished into the shadows of the alley. Carry’s heart, pumping wildly, sobered her. Serena pulled her to her feet as the car stopped and the window rolled down. “Are you all right?” a woman asked. Serena pointed down the dark alley. “That guy ran off with our money.” “Get in. We’ll take you home.”

Because it was a woman, they took the offer and climbed gratefully into the backseat. Did they want to report the robbery? the woman asked, leaning over to look at them. A man was at the wheel. He mumbled something like, Not much point. But they only wanted to go back to the safety of the apartment, to not bring attention to themselves. Once there, they looked at each other, realizing that the dog would have to be walked. It was only when they were in bed and began to talk about what had happened that they reacted to it. Serena began shaking. “You were brave, Carly, but don’t do that again. He might have really hurt you.” Carly’s blood still flowed through her at an alarming rate, barely pausing for a thump. “I couldn’t stand him grabbing you.” “Well, better manhandled than dead.” “Think so? Rape could be a death sentence these days. He was probably on drugs.” They were silent for a moment, holding each other for comfort before Serena whispered through chattering teeth, “I won’t feel safe walking around at night anymore.” And Carly had liked best that part of living where there were sidewalks, being able to walk so many places. “We aren’t safe. We’ve never been safe,” she reminded her. The man who’d robbed them was every bit as much a danger as Jess. Carly met Janie at a bakery and deli on State Street. They climbed winding wrought-iron steps to a second-floor loft. She hugged her daughter and asked where Francine was. “I left her with the neighbor. We have to talk, Mom,” Janie said with such seriousness that Carly choked down a laugh.

Over decaf they looked at each other across the small table cornered by brick walls. Carly looked away first, at the crowded tables nearby. “Dan told me everything.” “Did he?” Carly said. “Why don’t you share it with me?” “You should have stayed. You could have pressed charges.” “Threats don’t stop someone like Jess.” “They’d put him in jail.” She sighed deeply. “After the violence, not before. You read the papers, Janie. Women who have restraining orders are always getting beaten up, raped, shot. The thing is, the police can’t really protect anyone against someone as determined as Jess, because they have to protect his rights.” “You didn’t have to disappear.” It was an accusation. “Yes, I did.” She looked up at the waitress who had brought their sandwiches and murmured, “Thanks.” They ate in silence for a few moments before Carly asked if she could see Francine. “What if I controlled when and where you could see her? How would you feel?” “Devastated,” Carly replied honestly. Janie and Francie lived in a small house on a street noisy with children playing. The subdivision had been built in a field with houses fairly new and very much alike, all ranch style with saplings in the yards. Parking behind Janie’s van in the driveway, Carly stepped out into Francie’s knee-high embrace. Janie had not been sunny as a child, had held back her love, meting it out

according to her moods. She’d often had to be coaxed onto Carly’s lap. In contrast, how different this child was. Carly met her daughter’s eyes over the head of her granddaughter. “She’s just great, isn’t she?” She picked Francie up, grunting a little. “You’re putting on weight.” “Did you run away, Grandma?” “Who told you that?” she asked, sitting on one of chairs on the front porch. The day was too fine to go indoors. “Uncle Dan.” “I moved.” “Can I come stay with you?” “Sometime,” she promised. Janie stood with arms crossed, smiling at the two of them.

XXI Carly turned her face to the unseasonably warm November sun. She and Bonnie were picnicking outside during lunch as they did whenever the weather permitted. Carly had been moved from temporary help to full-time. “Torch Song Trilogy is showing at the Arts Theater Thanksgiving weekend,” Bonnie said, tearing open a small container of yogurt. “When I get old, I’m going to eat everything in sight.” “What a day, huh? Can you remember weather like this?” “Sure. Last November,” Bonnie reminded her. “It must be global warming, which means it’s just going to get hotter and hotter.” “You’re cheerful today,” Bonnie said dryly. “Want to go? To Torch Song? Maybe Serena and Pete would come along.” Carly looked at her coworker, who was short and plump. “I’ve seen it. I suppose you have too. The last time we went to the Arts Theater we were robbed.” “Have you seen the guy again?” “Nope, but now we drive everywhere and only walk the dog on busy streets.” Being accosted had made her feel helpless, outraged, fearful. “Where did you live before you moved here?” Bonnie asked. “Appleton,” she lied with a pang of nostalgia for Tamarack Creek. “Are you going there for Thanksgiving? Is that home?” Bonnie asked. “This is home,” she replied. Last Thanksgiving Lee had gone to her parents’ home, and Carly had traveled to Tamarack Creek to spend the

weekend with Dan and her daughter and granddaughter. Janie had asked Carly to her home in Madison this year, had said she wouldn’t invite Dan because Jess might follow him. Janie had included Serena in the invitation. “My parents expect me as they always do,” Bonnie remarked. “My parents are dead,” Carly said. Although they never walked the dog alone anymore or late at night, days passed when Carly failed to imagine would-be attackers lurking between houses and cars or in alleyways. It was dark when she got home from work, and Queenie always met her at the door. The dog no longer greeted either one of them with more than minimal enthusiasm. On weekends, they took him to parks and let him run. Even though the signs warned to keep pets on leash, Queenie greeted everyone as a potential friend. When they left for work, he lay down under a window with a thump and a sigh. She couldn’t blame him for mourning the loss of his freedom. As they walked with Queenie toward the busy intersection that night, Carly asked Serena if she would consider going to Janie’s for Thanksgiving. “Pete asked me, actually us, to spend the day with him. That might be safer.” “Tell him thanks, but I’m going to Janie’s,” she said. “I’ll go with you, of course.” Serena took hold of her arm. “Queenie will have to come too.” “Naturally,” she agreed. A small silence passed between them. “Will Dan be there?”

Carly shook her head. “He might be followed. We can’t chance that.” “Darling,” Serena began. “Don’t tell me it’s okay for me to go back to Tamarack Creek. It’s no safer there for me than you.” “Yes, it is. It isn’t you he won’t let go.” “It’s me he blames for your leaving. Bet you ten to one.” Carly had set her computer and printer on a battered desk she had purchased at Goodwill. She sat in front of it every night, writing letters that she printed but never mailed. To Dan, to Janie, to Francine, to Andrew, to Ginny and Barb. Occasionally, she glanced out the window at the alley and backyard cast in shadowy light, and shivered. She wrote of remembered walks, which she never sent to the Tamarack Gazette. The words made her long for the oak and pine woods, the open fields and flower-strewn ditches, the trout streams and lakes. Finally, her resolve broke and she wrote to Janie, saying that they would bring the dessert, the hors d’oeuvres, the cranberry salad, and the baked sweet potatoes and that they would arrive around eleven Thanksgiving day. She reminded Janie of her promise not to ask or tell Dan. This break in her determination to remain uncommunicative even from family and friends acted as a catalyst. She wrote to Ginny and Barb asking if they would take her to see Dan in their car, sneak her in and out. She said she’d call them. Enclosing one of her articles in the envelope, she asked that they send it on to Dan. The day before Thanksgiving, she called from the gas station and talked to Barb, who said she would gladly drive her to Tamarack Creek for the weekend. It would be good to see her. Ginny felt the same, Barb added.

Carly awakened to the sun’s pale early morning light Thanksgiving morning. She guessed the time without looking at the clock. Getting out of bed, she took Queenie for a walk in the crisp dawn. When she got back, Serena had made coffee. They ate a light breakfast, loaded the food and dog in Carly’s car, and left the city. Carly drove while Serena read aloud the clues from the crossword puzzle. Queenie lay on the backseat, occasionally sitting up to pant in their ears or to press his nose against one of the back windows. The food was in a box in the trunk. “Composer of The Planets” Serena said. “I can’t remember. Have you got any letters?” “H and four blanks.” “Hoist,” she replied. “Author of alphabetical mysteries.” “Grafton.” The leafless scenery rolled away on either side. Christmas decorations already adorned many houses. Thanksgiving seemed to be the forgotten holiday, sandwiched between Halloween and Christmas. Wild with excitement, Francine met them at the door, coming out on the porch in her socks. Carly picked her up and carried her inside. Serena brought in the box of food, and Queenie sniffed at and tinkled on the shrubbery before joining them. The day was marked with a drive to and a walk along Lake Mendota, where Francine threw bread crusts to the ducks, geese, and gulls. Carly thought she’d never forget the sight of Francie standing near the water’s

edge, the wind blowing her hair. While surrounded by quacking, honking waterfowl, white gulls screeching just overhead, the little girl heedlessly tossed scraps that were sometimes snatched almost before they left her hand. Carly wished she’d had a camera to bring. She’d always believed that seeing something implanted it in her mind’s eye, where she could conjure it up at will. But she knew this would be a prizewinning photo, one she would frame and put on her wall. They welcomed the warm, little house on their return. Janie lit the fire on the hearth and popped the cork on a bottle of wine. They snacked on smoked salmon and shrimp dipped in garlicky olive oil. And they talked. Janie said that Dan was cooking at the hotel that day. Andrew had gone home to his family. Too often that’s how it went, Carly thought. Instead of taking a partner home to mom and dad, gay partners split each to his or her own family. When the smells of turkey roasting and bread baking were overwhelming, Queenie sniffed the air and looked at Serena expectantly. “Time for his dinner. Want to help, Francie?” Serena said. “Can’t he have turkey with us?” “Maybe he can have a bite when we’re done. You can give it to him.” They left around eight o’clock, turning down Janie’s invitation and Francie’s pleas to stay. Serena had to work the next day. On the way home, Carly reminded Serena that she was driving to Barb’s on Saturday, then riding with her and Ginny to see Dan. Serena was silent for the space of a moment. “I’m glad.” The headlights of oncoming cars across the Interstate flashed across her face. “Wish I could go with you.” She squeezed Carry’s hand.

“You can go see Torch Song Trilogy with Bonnie.” “And Pete.” Carly felt a trace of jealousy, but the excitement of going to Tamarack Creek overrode it. She arrived at Barb and Ginny’s before ten Saturday morning. Barb flung the door open, grabbed her in a bosomy embrace that took her breath away, then pulled her inside and locked them in. “I forget we have to hide you.” Barb was grinning. “Ginny, Carly’s here,” she yelled into the depths. Ginny gathered her in another huge hug. “We were so worried. Everyone was. Dan, of course. Andrew seemed to think you were all right. Did you tell him you were going?” She shook her head, grinning back. “I didn’t let anyone know. Didn’t want to give Jess any clues. Actually, there wasn’t any time. We left in such a rush.” She sat down and accepted a cup of coffee. Barb and Ginny sat on the couch opposite her chair. The scene reminded her of the two weeks she’d spent with them before her move to Tamarack Creek, of their devotion to each other and to television. They were focused on her now. “Does Dan know I’m coming?” “Yep. He’s taking tonight off. Here’s the plan. We sneak you in the house where you’ll have to stay. At three on Sunday we’ll sneak you back out and drive home. A tingle of fear zigzagged down her spine, accompanied by a mental picture of the two women and Dan rescuing her from Jess’s rage. It made her smile. “I’m ready.”

In the backseat of the Explorer, Carly watched the familiar scenery. She had made the hour-and-a-half trip so many times over the years that she thought she could drive it blindfolded. She filled Barb and Ginny in about her job, the robbery, and Thanksgiving at Janie’s. “It’s been hard, not knowing where you were,” Ginny told her. Like a small death, she knew. “Serena was so sure we had to completely disappear. I didn’t think about all the implications. You know? Giving up relatives and friends and home. It’s a price I find hard to pay, obviously, or I wouldn’t be here.” As they neared the house on Tamarack Creek, Carly directed them to the route that brought them in the back way, avoiding Jess’s place. They crossed the trout stream, and turned into the driveway. Her blood rushed in her ears, and she scrunched down on the seat and covered herself with a blanket. Barb turned the car off, and all she heard was silence. She’d forgotten the quiet here. When the front doors opened, cold air flowed inside along with the sound of Dan’s voice. Someone opened the back door, and she was walked between Dan and Barb into the house through the door Ginny held open, then shut quickly behind them. Dan said, “I feel like I’m in some kind of play. Is this for real?” Carly wrapped her arms around his familiar bulk, sniffed his customary odor. He held her at arm’s length. “If the tears are for me, Sis, I’m still mad at you.” From the couch, Andrew said, “I told you she was all right.” “She wouldn’t be crying if she was all right,” Dan said gruffly. He turned to Barb and Ginny, “Thanks, girls.”

“Hey, we’re happy to be here,” Barb remarked. Carly sat on the sofa with Andrew. “I thought you moved out.” “I come on weekends. I may be back for good soon. I don’t like this office job. Selling is my bailiwick. Remember, one of my passions is driving.” Andrew patted her knee. “You can relax. Jess is gone. At least, the truck’s not there.” “As we all know, that doesn’t mean a whole lot.” She recalled the many times they’d thought Jess was on the road, when he’d probably been spying on them. “How’s it been?” Dan blew then. “How do you think? You know what it’s like to keep bumping into Jess, knowing he’s watching my every move?” “Unpleasant?” she volunteered. “Scary?” “Exactly,” Dan snapped. “How’s Serena?” “We’ve had our adventures.” She was thinking that Serena was adjusting better than she was. In her old bedroom that night as she waited for sleep to overtake her, she realized she was listening hard for sounds in the night. No traffic, no lights. Only a dark quiet that almost unnerved her. When an owl hooted, she jumped, then listened for another to answer. She missed Serena’s warmth, had gotten used to sleeping with her. Yet it came to her that, for her at least, running away had been ill thought-out. She belonged here. She’d loved Serena best when she was down the road, running the nursery with dirt ingrained in her hands. It seemed unfair that she’d had to make such a choice.

XXII Queenie greeted her, pushing his snout against her in welcome. Meowing, Hoity thumped down from the couch. Street lamps illuminated the room in a soft glow. The faded wallpaper, peeling ceiling, and water-spotted floors were masked by dimness. “Where’s your mom?” Serena’s truck had been parked outside. Switching on the floor lamp, Carly looked for a note. Nothing. Opening the fridge, she searched for something to eat. Eggs, bread, butter. Then she noticed the answering machine light flashing. She pushed the button. “We’re at the Pizza Place. Join us.” She grabbed her purse but couldn’t bring herself to close the door on Queenie’s nose. “Come on, buddy. You can sit in the car.” The night was warm enough. Queenie sat up straight in the seat next to hers, expectantly looking out the windshield. She laughed. “We’ll save a piece for you.” The dog lowered his ears in answer and panted harder. Serena was only minutes away. She felt a little stir of excitement. The restaurant had probably been a grocery store at one time. Plate glass windows fronted it. The inside was longer than wide, littered with tables and sided with booths covered in checkered cloths. Serena stood up and waved, and Carly was reassured by the pleasure she felt at seeing her. Their eyes met in a private greeting. She put an arm around Serena’s shoulders before dropping her purse and sliding in next to her. Bonnie and Pete sat side by side across the booth. Pete waved a waitress over, and Carly added a beer and a large pizza to the order. She was starving.

“We went to the movie late in the afternoon. How was everyone?” Serena asked. Carly felt the warm welcome, saw it in Serena’s eyes, in her smile. “Good.” She gestured toward the door. “The dog’s in the car. I told him we’d bring him a piece of pizza.” “I did too. It’s so hard to leave him,” Serena said. “So how was the movie?” “Fun,” Pete said. “And sad,” Bonnie added. “Yes, that too,” Pete agreed. Back at the apartment, Carly hurried to climb into bed with Serena. But once there, holding her close, she found herself listening to the traffic, watching headlights cross the walls and ceiling. “I’d forgotten how quiet and dark it was at home.” “You miss it terribly, don’t you?” Serena’s moist breath bathed her cheek. She kissed her. “Yes. Don’t you?” “I miss the nursery, all the outdoor stuff. I think I’ll look for a job at a greenhouse.” “Instead of the one you’ve got.” “On Saturdays.” “Wasn’t the idea to be able to spend time together?” “You could work with me.”

But she didn’t want to, nor had she moved to the city to spend her weekends alone. Quietly annoyed, Carly pulled away as Serena’s breathing evened into sleep. Christmas was in all the stores and workplaces ​ carols piped through speakers, artificial trees glowing inside, their natural counterparts outside, Salvation Army kettles on corners and in doorways with attendant bell ringers. Carly moved through the festive decor, her mood alternating hot and cold. She loved the season, always had, despite its rampant commercialization. It was the ambience she had become accustomed to as a child that she clung to, when she had spent the holiday at what had then been her grandparents’ place on Tamarack Creek. Serena was working at a nearby flower shop Saturdays, making wreaths and bouquets, selling poinsettias, taking orders. It left Carly hours to fill, which she did by taking the dog for long walks and searching the shops for Christmas presents. She chose a book for Francie, one she would enjoy reading to her, another for Dan who had no easy access to bookstores. Christmas would be lean this year. Her savings had vanished during their first few weeks in the city. A group of young people were singing carols, and she sat on a bench in the mall to listen. Shoppers passed her, blocking her view. Then there was a break in the crowds, and she thought she saw a man who looked like Jess on the other side. He wore a leather jacket, and his hands were crammed into his jeans pockets. Her heart lurched. Another group of people walked by, and she got to her feet and walked next to them, hiding in their midst. Locating her car in the parking ramp, she drove home and locked herself in the apartment. Her thoughts were scattered. Had it been him? Did he know where they lived? Where they worked?

Punching in the flower shop number, she asked for Serena. “I thought I saw Jess in the mall. Maybe you should leave your truck there. I can pick you up.” She heard the change in Serena’s voice ​ fatalistic, dull. “I told you he’d find us.” “Yeah, well, maybe he hasn’t. Maybe he’s just looking. Maybe it wasn’t him.” Had he followed her home from Tamarack Creek Thanksgiving weekend? “I’ll call Bonnie and Pete and ask them over tonight.” They were supposed to meet the two friends at the theater. “I’ll ask Pete to bring a video.” Before five, she took Queenie out for a brief, hurried walk. The wind tunneled down the street, penetrating her jacket, numbing her ears and nose. Her eyes darted in all directions, but she saw no one who looked like Jess. Then she drove to the flower shop and parked outside, doors locked, engine running. Serena emerged, bareheaded, hair swirling, and jumped inside. “Have you seen him since?” Carly shook her head. She hadn’t known the fear that came with anticipation. Locked in the apartment, blinds drawn, listening for footsteps on the stairs. Walking the dog, while looking for Jess behind every tree, in every vehicle, on the front steps awaiting their return. Pete and Bonnie showed up together, Pete with the video and a bottle of wine, Bonnie with a huge bag of popcorn. But neither Carly nor Serena would open up until Pete yelled out who was there. “What’s going on?” Pete asked as Carly hurried them inside and locked the door behind them. Carly hadn’t thought about explaining Jess to them. She chewed on her lower lip, trying to think of words to explain Jess without giving everything

away. “It’s my ex,” Serena said with a glance at Carly. “He’s harassing me. Carly thought she saw him this afternoon.” “So that’s why you don’t want to go out,” Bonnie said flatly as if she understood. “Hey, it’s nasty out anyway,” Pete put in. At nine-thirty the dog stood at the door, looking expectantly at Serena. “I’ll take him out,” Pete offered. “Thanks,” Carly said. The fear was back. Why had she gone to the mall? Why had she gone to visit Dan? “I don’t want to get you two in the middle of this,” Serena said. “What are friends for?” Pete asked, getting up and stretching. “Where’s the leash?” “Are you two okay?” Bonnie asked while Pete pulled on his jacket. “Scared out of our wits, is all,” Carly said truthfully. “I can spend the night,” Bonnie suggested. “Me too,” Pete put in. “That’s nice,” Serena said, “but sometime you have to go home.” “No, we don’t. Not ever.” Pete opened the door. “We’ll make this quick, won’t we Queenie?” The knock came when Pete was out with the dog. Thinking it was Pete returning, Carly opened without asking.

Jess moved into the room, a humorless grin on his face, his eyes narrowed against the light. He locked the door behind him and leaned against it. Carly couldn’t have said what she felt. She was numb, staring at his face, backing away. Serena came out of the bathroom and stopped dead. And Bonnie stood big-eyed and motionless except for the pulse leaping under the skin of her throat. In a few strides, Jess crossed the room and grabbed the front of Serena’s shirt. Serena’s face had paled, so that the only color came from her eyes, but they were dull. It was that hopeless look that set Carly into motion. Flitting behind Jess, she opened the door and screamed down the stairs, getting out two helps before he pulled her inside and slammed and locked the door again. “Get your jacket,” he said to Serena, one hand twisting Carly’s arm. “You’re coming with me.” “No. I’m not going.” “You want me to break her arm?” “Go ahead,” Carly squeaked through the pain. Maybe someone would kill him instead, and they could go home. She heard thudding on the stairs, the dog barking, banging on the door, Lily’s and Pete’s voices asking to be admitted. Bonnie opened to them, scuttling over to the door, swinging it wide. Jess let go of Carly and said in a reasonable voice, “Come on in. I’m Jess Castle, Serena’s husband.” He pointed to Carly. “This is her lesbian lover. I want Serena to come home with me where she belongs.” “I’m not going,” Serena said. Bonnie spoke, her voice an unrecognizable squawk. “He’s a dangerous

man. Call the police.” Lily looked from Serena to Carly and said, “I already did. They’re on their way.” But then Jess left on his own, shoving out the door, clambering down the stairs, and disappearing as quickly as he had appeared in what seemed like an anticlimax. His willing departure was too easy, Carly thought, exchanging a worried glance with Serena. When the two policemen who answered Lily’s call went in search of Jess, Serena apologized to Lily, to Bonnie, to Pete. “I’m sorry. He’s an abusive man.” “I could tell.” Lily wore a pink sweat suit, her pupils huge in a pasty face. “How about a glass of wine,” Pete offered, pouring five glasses. It was only then that Carly realized what had been revealed, what no one had seemed shocked to hear. That she and Serena were lesbians. Sunday around midnight, after falling asleep from sheer exhaustion, Carly wakened to a click and the whine of the dog. She lay rigid, listening intently. “He’s back.” “I know,” Serena whispered. Creeping to the bedroom door, Carly heard Pete snoring softly on the sofa. Bonnie had gone home, there being no place for her to sleep, too. She gasped when Jess suddenly loomed in front of her. “Get dressed, Serena, or I’m going to blow the goddamn dog’s head off,” he growled past Carly. Pete sat up and turned on the light. “What the hell.” Jess turned the gun on him. “You. Don’t move.”

“I’m not going,” Serena said. “I’ll kill your friends here, starting with her.” “Go ahead,” Carly managed to get out. When he backhanded her with the gun, it was like deja vu, except Queenie must have sunk his teeth in Jess’s leg, because he let out a scream and yelled, “Goddamn fucking dog.” Carly heard the gun go off, heard the same scream, but she couldn’t see through the slippery stuff all over her face. She went down as if she were on a slide, hitting the floor in parts. Desperately, she tried to stay conscious. If she remained alert, she might be of some use, but she couldn’t even see. She could hear, though, off and on. The dog was growling and whining at the same time as if worrying something. She hoped it was Jess’s leg or arm or butt. Serena’s frantic voice faded in and out, asking over and over, “Are you all right, Carly?” So she guessed that Serena was okay. She heard Pete talking in the background, sounding a little excited, and she assumed he was on the phone. Jess, moaning in pain, made her smile. But it made no sense at all that he was the one hurt. Her head throbbed beyond belief; she wanted Jess to suffer as much. She tried again to clear her eyes, but she only smeared the wet stuff around. “I can’t see,” she heard herself say, but on one responded. Then she attempted to sit up, and lost consciousness. Carly woke up on the couch as attendants carted Jess out of the apartment on a gurney. “Is he dead?” she asked, hoping.

“Unfortunately, no, just incapacitated. He shot himself in the leg.” Pete was wiping her face with a washcloth. “I think you need a few stitches.” “Where’s Queenie?” “He’s all right, sweetie. He saved us.” Serena stood behind Pete, clutching her robe. “The police are here.” While Serena talked to the police with Lily for backup, Pete took Carly to the emergency room at Mount Sinai where a doctor put twenty-one stitches in her right cheek. “Any further up and you’d have been in serious trouble. As it is, you’ve got some severed nerves, but they’ll grow back together,” the young doctor said as he soaked the wound with some brownish stuff. “I’m going to keep you here overnight.” She didn’t argue. “You’ll stay with Serena, won’t you, Pete?” “You bet. I’ll call Bonnie and ask her to report you sick.” The sirens, the busy traffic outside, and the footsteps in the hallways became background for her dreams as Carly fell asleep as soon as he left. Carly opened her eyes to see Serena’s face cruelly lit by the morning light. “I’ll bet I look better than you do,” Carly said, wincing when her grin painfully rearranged the stitches. “No, you don’t.” Serena smiled only briefly, her fingers hovering over Carly’s wound. She looked so tired. “I don’t know if my insurance at work will cover this. I think there’s a sixtyday waiting period, which means I need to get out of here.” She started to sit up, but then collapsed with a grunt. “I’ll pay for it,” Serena said, touching Carly’s shoulder. “You can’t afford it any more than I can.”

When Carly checked herself out, the nurse gave her a small tube of Betadine ointment to dress the stitches with until it was time for them to be removed. “We’re leaving here,” she said to Serena once they were back in the apartment, alone. “We can come back to testify at Jess’s trial.” Serena’s eyes glittered. “Where are we going?” “Home.” “You take the dog home. I can’t go back there.” “Why? How can you stay here?” Serena took her hand. “That’s Jess’s place. He’ll go back when he gets out. Besides, there are all the memories of living there with him.” “It’s where we met.” “I know. Those are the good memories.” “Divorce him. Sell it and start another nursery.” It seemed so clear to Carly. She was still under the influence of shock. “I like it here,” Serena said softly. “What?” Feeling betrayed, she struggled to her elbows, only to be pushed back gently. She had no strength to argue further. “I called Dan and Janie. They need to hear your voice. It took all my powers of persuasion to keep them from jumping in their vehicles and driving here. I told them you needed rest.” “We’ll see them in two weeks.” They would be at Tamarack Creek for Christmas.

XXIII Carly and Serena drove to Tamarack Creek Thursday, after work, for a four-day Christmas weekend. Panting with anticipation, Queenie began whining as soon as they turned onto the familiar road. It had snowed the day before, and even though night had fallen, the freshly plowed ridges along the roadsides and the rolling fields stretching between woods appeared eerily white under a full moon. Carly braked as they passed the nursery with its abandoned buildings, the driveway impassible with snow. Serena leaned forward, studying the house and property that had been hers. “Don’t you miss it?” Carly said. She still clung to the hope that Serena would want to move back. “Yes and no. Like I said, his memory is there.” “It’s at our apartment then, too.” “As soon as we can afford it, we’ll buy a house.” “I don’t want another house,” Carly said. “Let it go, Carly.” Serena’s voice hardened with stubbornness. They parked in the glow of the porch light and released the frantic dog. Queenie raced in circles, plowing a dark furrow through the snow in the yard. The night was windless and very cold, causing their breaths to encircle their heads in clouds. Andrew dashed outside and grabbed their suitcases. “Come on in. Dan’s not home yet. Why don’t you pull up to the garage?” Serena moved the car, while Carly trudged through the dry snow to the trout stream. She stood with her hands in the pockets of her jacket,

watching the dark, curling water cut through the white banks. A peace settled over her as it always did when she was here, but it was accompanied by a terrible longing to stay. Stamping her feet, Serena joined her. “Come on, sweetie, you’ll get frostbit.” There was only numbness where the nearly invisible scar marked the gash the stitches had closed. The severed nerves were growing back together and tingled strangely when touched. That side of her face ached in the cold. Inside, a fire burned on the grate and the radio played excerpts from Handel’s Messiah. Carly removed her jacket and squatted in front of the flames, holding her hands to the heat. When Queenie pushed against her, she moved over and put an arm around the dog. Janie and Francie would join them the following day. Carly knew she should be grateful that she was here at all. If Jess hadn’t found them, if he wasn’t sitting in jail awaiting trial, if he had managed to shoot one of them instead of himself, she would be spending the holiday somewhere else. “We’re never satisfied, are we, Queenie?” she whispered into the dog’s twitching ear. In the kitchen, Andrew handed her a vodka and tonic. “Cookies on the table. I made them myself.” He beamed, his handsome face lighting up. Remembrances of previous holidays flooded over her, but she only smiled and thanked him. When Dan arrived, they sat in the living room, staring at the flames and the sleeping dog lying in front of the fire. “It’s good to have you here,” Dan said, “if only for the weekend.” Serena glanced at him. “I’m wondering if you would take Queenie. He

hates the confinement of the apartment. I’d pay all his expenses.” Dan shot her a glance. “Like sending him off to camp? What if he runs off?” “He won’t go far.” Carly remained downstairs after the others had gone to bed. She added a log and the fire flared, snapping. Queenie sighed contentedly. Settling back on the davenport with an afghan over her legs, Carly fell asleep. Serena looked for her in the wee hours. “Come to bed, darling. It’s after one and I need your warmth. That’s a mighty cold room up there.” The wind had picked up, moaning and rattling the glass in the windows. Carly knew if she touched the panes, they would radiate cold. As it was, they were rimed with frost. Eyes wide open, she lay under the heavy covers that were pulled up to her nose. Serena threw an arm over her. “Go to sleep.” As first light stained the snow, Carly crept from the bed and padded downstairs. Letting the dog out, she brought in logs from the stack on the porch and built up the fire, then made coffee and, from a seat at the kitchen table, watched the birds at the feeders. Serena found her jotting notes on a legal pad. “Have I lost my allure?” Carly gave her a tired smile. “I always wake up early. You know that.” Sipping a steaming cup of coffee, Serena leaned against the old counters. “We’ll come back for vacations and holidays when we can.” Carly was remembering the interview on public radio with the Seattle couple. Had they given up their dream of a less hurried lifestyle for the success found in promoting it? “You’ll get tired of the city.”

Serena looked thoughtful. “I thought the nursery was like being on a treadmill.” “And I thought you loved it.” “I did. If I was sure Jess wouldn’t return, I’d be back at it again. Let’s see what happens this winter. Okay? But don’t place your bets. Jess is a wild card.” Serena had emerged from the chrysalis of abuse, had turned into a butterfly, so she’d told Carly. She wasn’t going back into that underworld of silence and self-loathing, no matter what. “All right,” Carly said, knowing that she would come back regardless. “We’re not running or hiding or sneaking around anymore.” Brave words, she thought, spoken when Jess was safely incarcerated. Somehow they’d have to live with the threat that he represented. Christmas day Francie and Janie roused them from their beds before dawn, rapping on Carly and Serena’s door. “Your granddaughter won’t stay in bed any longer.” “All right,” Carly said, her eyes snapping open. “We’ll go wake up Dan and Andrew,” Janie said, opening the door a crack. An exchange of cold air for warmer took place. “Come on, Grandma,” Francie said, too excited to stand still. “Okay. I’m up,” she said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and stepping into cold slippers. “Did Santa come? I didn’t hear him.” Francie grabbed Carly’s hand and dragged her toward the steps. “Go look, Grandma. Come on, Serena.” Francie pronounced Serena’s name with only one e. As Francie propelled her along, Carly pulled on a ratty old flannel bathrobe that she kept in her bedroom. It had belonged to her grandfather, and she couldn’t bear to throw it away. “Come on Serena,” she echoed over her

shoulder. “You wait on the stairs, Francie. I’ll let you know if Santa made it.” It was tradition. As children, Carly and Dan had waited on the steps while the adults checked to see if their stockings had been filled. Carly knew now that the adults had been making coffee and building a fire in the fireplace. As the first one downstairs, she let the dog out and started the coffee. When she returned to the living room, Queenie was leaning against Andrew, who was putting a match to the fire. “Looks like we’re ready,” Carly called up the stairs. Dan broke open a bottle of champagne, which they consumed while opening gifts. Then he fixed a breakfast of bacon, fried potatoes, omelets, and overnight coffeecake. “Nothing fancy,” he said. “Just good fodder to get us through to the big meal.” The hotel kitchen was closed for the day, freeing Dan to cook for them. He was making rolls when Serena and Carly decided to check out the nursery. Janie was in the shower. Outside, they passed Andrew whinnying like a horse while dragging Francie around on a plastic sled. The frigid air burned Carly’s lungs. An icy wind numbed her face and caused her eyes and nose to run. When they reached the driveway to Serena’s place and found it thigh deep with snow, they strapped on the snowshoes that Carly had found hanging in the garage. Queenie lunged through the drifts, while the two women trudged their way to the barn. Carly had forgotten how much effort went into snowshoeing. The barn door was sealed behind waves of snow, so they walked around the building peering in the windows at the counters and shelves covered with unsold inventory, including containers with liquids that must have frozen. Carly remembered building the shelving and stocking the merchandise, but it felt like it had happened in another year, a former life.

The house windows were blanks, reflecting the sunlight that bounced off the snow. Queenie stood on the stoop, waiting for someone to open the door. If the snow had been untouched, it was now marked by their efforts to get through it. “Want to go inside?” Carly asked. “You can get some of the stuff you left behind.” “I don’t want it.” Serena hurried past. Carly was relieved. The place looked cold and friendless and, maybe because of that, vaguely menacing. “What’s the rush?” she asked, struggling to keep up with Serena. “I don’t know. Let’s get out of here,” Serena said, never slowing down. “Come on, Queenie.” The dog flattened his ears and plunged into the snow after them. On the plowed road they removed the snowshoes. “I couldn’t manage these for very long,” Carly remarked as Serena stepped out of the bindings and started off. “Hey, wait for me. What’s the matter?” “Nothing,” Serena said without looking back, and Carly felt a chill of fear. They walked back toward the house, the dog bounding ahead of them, no doubt eager to get out of the cold. After all, he wore the same coat inside and out. She noticed the sled abandoned in the snowy yard. There was no sign of her granddaughter, but Andrew stood on the porch with Janie and Dan. “Where’s Francie? Is she with you?” Janie said as they neared. “Francie? Why would she be with us?” Carly asked, looking from one to the other. “I went inside to take a leak, and when I came back out she was gone,”

Andrew said. He stepped off the porch. “She can’t be far. Where would she go?” Dan said, then raised his voice. “Come on out now, Francie.” “She wouldn’t be hiding outside in this cold,” Janie said. “She must be in the house.” Serena asked, “Did you see anyone hanging around? Any cars on the road?” Thinking if they hadn’t seen any vehicles during their walk, why would anyone else, Carly shot a glance at Serena. “I’ll look in the garage.” Grabbing both pairs of snowshoes, she headed in that direction. She opened the double doors with difficulty and called the child’s name. Maybe Francie had somehow slipped inside and not been able to get out, but she hadn’t. There was no answer, nor was she in Daniel’s truck or Andrew’s car. While the rest of them searched the house, the yard, and the road ​ Francie could not have crossed the fallen snow-covered log to the public land ​ Serena called the sheriffs office. Shortly after, the same Deputy Johnson who had questioned Carly about Jess drove up to the house. By then Janie was frantic, sure that Francie could not survive in the frigid temperatures, and Carly was fighting off fatalism, which threatened to suffocate her. “We’re working on a search. People should be arriving any minute.” Johnson turned to Serena. “You’re the one who called, right?” Serena nodded. “I checked. They let him out, it being Christmas and all.” Carly gave Serena a disbelieving, angry look. “Jess?” Serena nodded and took the blame. “I’m sorry.” “What are you talking about? What has this to do with Francie?” Janie

asked. She glanced from her mother to Serena, and her voice rose to a new level of alarm. “You think he took her?” “We don’t know that,” Johnson said. “We’ll keep looking.” Cars and trucks arrived, parking one behind the other. Carly didn’t know these people who had come on Christmas day to search for her granddaughter. Johnson sent off groups of two and three in different directions. And Carly found herself almost hoping that Jess had taken Francie, so that she’d be someplace warm. There was no way the girl could endure long in the cold. “I can’t just wait around.” Tears had frozen on Janie’s cheeks. “Neither can I,” Dan said. “Let’s go.” Carly’s body was as numb now as her mind. Without discussing a destination, they headed toward Serena and Jess’s house. Carly tried to recall whether the snow had been unbroken when she and Serena had been at the place earlier. Could Jess have been in the house with Francie then? Queenie loped along with them. Serena unlocked the door to the house. Pushing past Carly as she stepped inside, Janie shouted Francie’s name into the stagnant air. A minimum of heat had been left on to keep the water pipes from freezing. Francie wouldn’t die of the cold in here, nor would they. Serena began a methodical search, starting with the basement. She flicked on a bare bulb that lit the cement steps that took them down into the stone walls and low ceilings of a space that spanned the length and breadth of the old house. The workbench, the shelves, the rooms were empty except for the furnace that hulked near the stairs. The others trailed after Serena wordlessly as if only she knew the way to Francie. Janie followed Serena so closely that she sometimes bumped into her. Carly was behind the two other women, and Dan and Andrew

brought up the rear. Back up the stairs to the main floor they trooped, going from room to room: first the kitchen, then the living and dining rooms, lastly the bedrooms. Looking in closets and under beds, including the bed Carly and Serena had made love in so many times. Carly stared at the bed, promising she would gladly give up those pleasures in exchange for Francine’s safe return. She was making silent bargains with the god of her childhood, the one she ignored except when under duress: Let Francie be all right and she’d never offend again. Her heart beat painfully against her ribs. Glancing at Janie, she knew her distress was at least as desperate. Opening the door to the second floor, they once again climbed stairs. A hodgepodge of rooms awaited them. Still one behind the other with Serena at the fore, they crowded into the rooms, which were used for storage. In the first one were a bed and dresser; in the others were boxes piled on top of each other. They looked under the bed and behind the dresser, into more closets, and moved the boxes around. Finally, they came to the end of the hall where Queenie stood wagging his tail, waiting, his nose pointed upward. Serena grasped the dog’s collar and reached up to pull the rope on the trapdoor downward. Stairs unfolded behind it. She started up the steep steps, hanging on to the dog that was lunging and whimpering a little. As soon as Carly saw the dog standing as if at point, her pulse jumped and her breathing shortened. At the top of the attic stairs she pushed with the others into the cramped space under the eaves. Serena took a firmer hold on Queenie’s collar before the dog could approach the man and girl crouching behind the chimney. The dog whined, and Francie let out an answering sob. Jess held Francie in the circle of one arm; in his other hand he grasped a

knife. “She won’t ever forgive you if I kill her grandkid,” Jess said to Serena. Carly knew it was true. She’d blame Serena almost as much as she’d blame him. And herself. While Dan held Janie against any move she might make, Andrew did the same with Carly, although Carly couldn’t move, wouldn’t move. The sight of Francie’s pale little face with its trembling mouth and huge eyes twisted Carly’s heart into a painful knot. The thought of her granddaughter’s terror-filled last hour or two enraged her. She and Serena had made this scene happen, and she was filled with shame and self-hatred. “You don’t want her. You want me,” Serena was saying in a seductive voice. “I’ll go with you. Anywhere.” “Kind of late for that, ain’t it?” Jess said. “No. You can put the knife to my throat. Let the girl go.” Serena edged toward him. “Get back, bitch,” Jess warned. No one said anything. They were holding their collective breaths, until a sob broke loose from Janie. “You come here,” Jess said to Serena. “The rest of you go downstairs but stay in the house. The kid and Serena are good as dead if you try to tell anyone I’m here.” Dan and Andrew backed down the steep staircase, pulling Carly and Janie with them. “Come on, come on,” Dan urged. “Do what he says.” In the second-floor hallway, they listened, straining to catch what was going on in the attic. What they heard was Jess’s voice, surly and angry, then Serena’s answer, placating and pleading. The words were indecipherable. When Carly thought she could stand the waiting no longer, Serena appeared at the top of the steps. Behind her Jess stood holding Francie.

Jess waved the knife at them. “Go in that room and stay there. Go on.” Still hanging on to Janie, not trusting her enough to let go, Dan herded them into a room full of boxes where they stood with their backs to the wall, their eyes on the open door. When the door slammed shut, they jumped and Janie bolted. Dan lunged and grabbed her as her hand touched the knob. “You’ll get Francie killed,” he hissed. That stopped Janie. She leaned against him and began to heave silent sobs, all the more horrible for the lack of sound. Carly took her daughter and held her against the wrenching of her grief and frustration. Heroics were out of order. They would only put Francie and Serena in more danger. When Carly heard the thud of something falling, she stiffened and turned toward the sound of footsteps on the attic stairs, past the door, and then down another set of steps before fading out of earshot. The dog began barking, then yowling. They sprang at the door, bumping into each other, and Dan turned the knob. It was locked. He and Andrew put their shoulders to the wood and forced it open, crashing into the wall on the other side of the hallway. The barking was coming from the attic. Andrew climbed the steep stairs, pushed up the trapdoor, and stood nose to nose with Queenie, who let out a whine and licked him in the face. “She’s here. Francie’s here,” Andrew yelled down to the upturned faces.

XXIV Francie remained silent. It was as if her voice had been stopped by fear. They took turns carrying her through the deep snow to the road, where Janie gathered her in her arms and refused to relinquish her to anyone else’s care. Johnson called in the searchers on the beepers he had provided them. They crowded into the house to see the child they had been looking for. Andrew made coffee, Carry set out all the cookies, and Dan rescued the overdone turkey from the oven, carving and placing the meat on a platter in the dining room. But although Francie was safe, Serena was not. A pall hung over the gathering. When all the searchers were safely returned, the deputy raced off in his official car. Someone had gotten a glimpse of the vehicle Jess was driving ​ a green Crown Victoria. “We’ll get him,” Johnson assured Carly before going. “Stay here. Don’t leave the house. We don’t need to worry about anyone else. I’ll call with any news.” She nodded, and Dan, who stood near her, said, “We’ll be right here, waiting to hear from you.” Carly thanked the searchers as they left in twos and threes to continue their own Christmas celebrations. Her smile never quite reached her eyes, but her voice was warm. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said over and over again, shaking each hand earnestly. She meant every word, but in her core something vital seemed to have died. Hope? Faith? These people who had spent this freezing cold Christmas searching for her granddaughter exemplified what she had lost. She was feeling instead the fatalism she had experienced when she’d realized Francie was gone, the same fatalism she’d seen so often on Serena’s face. She understood it now. Serena had absorbed it. There was

no escaping Jess. Carly made another bargain with her childhood god: Rescue Serena and Carly would let her go. As night fell swift and deadly cold, Andrew built up the fire. Janie finally placed Francie on the couch under an afghan after she fell asleep on her mother’s lap. It was then that Carly realized how tired she was, how exhausted they all were. Dan slumped at the other end of the couch from where Janie sat with Francie’s head on her leg. Carly and Andrew leaned back in the easy chairs. No one went to bed. It was like a sleepover without the fun. As the wind picked up speed, howling around the house looking for admittance, Queenie lifted his head and listened. She envied the dog his confident anticipation. Any minute he expected Serena to come through the door. She wished she did. She fell asleep sometime after midnight in spite of her attempts to remain alert. Awakening before dawn while the others slept on, she built up the fire and let the dog out into the windless, bitterly cold morning. Then she dragged herself into the kitchen to start coffee. Despite an exhaustion that left her feeling incredibly heavy, as if she’d gained fifty pounds, she knew she wouldn’t go back to sleep. When the dog barked at the door, Andrew awakened and let him in, and then joined Carly in the kitchen. He ran a hand over his face and yawned. Two days’ growth of beard made him look older. Carly wondered why he stayed around. What was in it for him? “Thanks for the help yesterday,” she said, pouring them both a cup of coffee. “Hey, I love the kid too.” He gave her a sad smile that nearly brought her to tears. “For the life of me, I can’t figure you out,” she said hoarsely. “I like having a family. Mine is scattered and heterosexual.” When Carly still

looked baffled, he said, “You must know what it’s like not to fit in.” “I’m sure they love you just the way you are.” She wasn’t in the mood for a serious conversation. Turning her head toward the window, she looked out at the nearly empty feeders. “I’ll go fill them,” Andrew said, going for his coat and walking out. Her thoughts jumped all over the place, refusing to settle on anything. She watched him fumble with the feeder, his hands encased in gloves. When the phone rang, she jumped and caught her toe on the leg of the chair in her rush to pick it up. “Ted Johnson here. Just wanted to tell you that your friend is all right. I’ve got her in my car right now. Should I bring her over?” For some reason, the call caught her off guard. “Oh. Yes.” “You want to talk to her?” Before she could say anything more, he put Serena on. “Hi.” Serena sounded tired, but, of course, she had probably been up all night. “You okay?” she asked. “Yes. I’m all right.” There was a pause. “Jess is dead.” She thought such news would make her heart leap with joy, but by now her entire body could have been nerveless. She felt nothing. “Oh. What happened?” “I’ll tell you when I see you.” Serena looked more traumatized than tired, when Johnson escorted her to the door. Her pupils had taken over the color of her eyes. She stood for a moment in the living room while Johnson said good-bye.

“You going to be okay now?” he asked Serena, then turned to Carly. “She didn’t want to go to the hospital. It might have been a good idea.” Dan grabbed a jacket and followed Johnson outside. While Carly stood stupidly in place, Andrew led Serena to a chair. “How’s Francie?” Serena asked. “Where is she?” “She doesn’t talk,” Carly said. “She’s with Janie. They’re upstairs packing.” “I’m so sorry. I can’t tell you how much. I should never have left him.” “You should have left him years ago,” Carly said flatly. Then none of this would have happened. “You were the catalyst, Carly. You gave me the courage to leave.” Serena’s gaze begged her understanding. “What happened to Jess?” Carly asked. “They shot him. About six times. He pulled a gun out from under the seat.” Serena shuddered. “I was glad.” In the bedroom while packing, Carly told Serena she was moving back to Tamarack Creek. She did not tell her about the bargain to give her up that she had made. Carly would have gone home anyway once Jess was out of the picture. Serena gave her a tired glance. “I’ll miss you.” Carly wished she hadn’t succumbed to her lust for Serena, if that’s what it had been. In the light of what had happened, the affair seemed insubstantial. “We should have been more straightforward.” “Yeah, sure. We should have proclaimed our love. That would have made Jess agreeable to it. Maybe we’d be the ones who were dead instead of him.” Serena zipped the bag and gave Carly a wry smile. “What time do you want to leave for Milwaukee? Or are you leaving?”

“I have to get my things at the apartment.” When they got downstairs, Janie and Francie were saying their good-byes. Carly hugged her daughter and granddaughter tightly. “I’ll see you soon,” she said. After Janie drove off, while Serena was loading the Saturn, Carly told Dan she was moving back to Tamarack Creek. “Do you think this is a good time to leave Serena? When she feels so guilty about Francie and after she saw Jess killed?” “What did Johnson say to you?” “That they put spikes in the road. Blew all the tires on the rental jobbie Jess was driving. When Jess got out of the car, he had a gun and they shot him. Johnson was pretty upset. I think it’s the first time he was involved in a shooting.” “It’s the first time Francie was kidnapped, too. Let’s get upset a little about that. She still isn’t talking.” “I am upset about that. So is Serena. Stop blaming her for everything. Some of this was your fault too, you know.” She knew. She didn’t need a constant reminder of why. And like her granddaughter, she kept expecting Jess to show up. On the drive home, Serena reached for Carly’s hand. Carly didn’t pull it away, but she didn’t return the pressure either. They had left Queenie behind with Dan and Andrew. “I’m not going to stay long, Serena. I told Janie I’d take care of Francie until she stops clinging and starts talking again, and then I’ll go back to Tamarack Creek.” Serena looked out the passenger window and gave a brief shrug. “I

understand.” “Do you?” Carly asked. “We caused this. You and me. I can’t forgive myself.” “Nor can I,” Serena said. The child psychologist told Janie and Carly that children were resilient, that Francie would probably suffer no permanent psychological damage from being snatched for such a brief time. The girl hadn’t been physically or sexually abused. Carly shuddered at the words and the images they invoked. “What about her being held against her will by a man she didn’t know, a man who was armed with a knife?” Janie asked. “For a while she won’t feel safe and you’ll have to reassure her, but that fear will fade with time when she is allowed to resume her normal activities.” The girl had started talking on the way home with her mother, and she hadn’t stopped. She had greeted Carly as if nothing had happened Christmas day. After two weeks of staying home with Carly, Francie had indicated that she wanted to go back to preschool. She missed her friends. The psychologist assured Janie and Carly that allowing Francie to return to her routine would be the best thing for the girl. “What are you going to do now, Mom?” Janie asked when they left the psychologist’s office. Carly looked at the dirty snow lining the curbs and sidewalks. “Go home,” she said, and she and Janie swung a squealing Francie off her feet between them. “To Milwaukee?” Janie inquired. “To Tamarack Creek,” Carly said.

“Can I come, Grandma?” Francie asked. Carly exchanged a glance with her daughter. Guess she’s all right after all, if she wants to go back. “I thought you wanted to go to school.” “Oh,” Francie said. Carly packed her clothes and threw them in the car the next morning. It hadn’t occurred to her until now that she might be lonesome at Tamarack Creek. She could still return to Milwaukee. Serena would be thrilled to see her, she was sure. Serena had called every few days to ask about Francie and to tell Carly she missed her. But when she drove out of Madison, she turned north toward Tamarack instead of east toward Milwaukee. Queenie greeted her, so overcome with excitement that he rushed outside as she came in. It made her laugh and then cry. He was Serena’s dog. Serena should be with him. To cheer the place up ​ the day was clouded over ​ she built a fire on the warm embers. Then she phoned the minimart and asked to talk to Larry. “Your brother said you’d be back, but I didn’t believe him. Want a job?” he asked. “You’re a doll,” she said. “Tell me something I don’t know. Hey, I heard about your granddaughter. Wish I’d known. I’d have been out there in a flash to look for her. Is she all right?” “I know you would. Yes, I think she’s fine. I was with her the past two weeks. When do you want me to start?” “How about tomorrow morning. Seven o’clock okay?” “You bet.”

Queenie trailed her into the kitchen and leaned against her while she looked in the fridge for something for lunch. Finding leftover lasagna, she nuked a bowlful. A party horn was on the table. “And how was your New Year’s Eve?” she asked the dog, who sat on her foot and swept the floor with his tail. Hers had been low-key, spent playing games with Janie and Francie. When Francie fell asleep, she and Janie had watched a movie. Serena had called at midnight. She made soup from the turkey carcass. When Dan came home, he gave her a huge hug. “You must have read my mind. It’ll taste better as soup than it did as dried up meat.” “Where’s Andrew?” she asked, smiling because she was glad to see him. “On the road again.” He began to sing the words, and she joined in until they were laughing too hard to continue. “Are you home to stay?” he asked when he caught his breath. “Yes.” “And Serena?” He lifted one heavy eyebrow. “She knows where I am.” Andrew returned on Friday, arriving shortly after Carly got home from the minimart. A January thaw had set in, softening the snow so that it fell in on itself, heavy and full of moisture. She had just let the dog out and was standing on the porch with arms crossed against the thirty-degree temperature. It felt like a heat wave. Moisture dripped from the icicles hanging from the eaves. Andrew smiled at Carly while fending off Queenie’s passionate welcome. Inside, they went to the kitchen, fixed drinks, brought them back to the living room, built up the fire, and sat down.

“With all that done, how the hell are you?” Andrew asked. “Glad to be home. And you?” “Just as glad to have you back home. And Serena? Is she on her way?” “Nope.” “Why not?” he asked. “We need a break from each other.” His voice softened. “What happened wasn’t her fault, Carly. You can’t blame her for what Jess did.” “Yes, I can. I blame us both.” She stared at the flames, now leaping behind the glass door of the fire stove. Andrew opened his mouth and then shut it. “I’m going to tell you something, Andrew, and I don’t want you to laugh at me or think I’m being silly.” He looked insulted. “I won’t.” She told him about the promise she’d made to the god of her j outh, that if Serena was found safe, she’d let her go. “What are you afraid will happen if you don’t honor it?” he asked. “Stupid, huh? But after what happened, the whole affair seemed so selfish.” She searched for the right word. “So tawdry.” Maybe the sneaking around had been, but the feelings hadn’t, nor had the friendship. “Loving Serena was tawdry? Is my affair with Dan tawdry too?” “That’s different. You aren’t sneaking around, endangering other people.”

He was silent for a moment, the two of them staring at the flames, before saying, “I don’t know why you blame yourself for Jess’s behavior. Now that you’re free of him, you’re letting him keep you and Serena apart. In the end, you let him win. It doesn’t make sense.” Carly knew that, but she seemed unable to start over. She was stuck. She could not get past the violence caused by her love for Serena.

XXV The willows along the Tamarack were leafing out, the grass greening, the bushes budding. March was about to turn into April, when every plant would either flower or turn green. Yet Carly stood outside with Queenie only minutes before the cold forced her inside. Her dress for Bonnie and Pete’s wedding already hung in a garment bag in the car, her bag was packed and ready to carry out. She gave the dog a final pat, told him Andrew would be home soon, and hurried to the Saturn. Maybe when she returned, it would feel more like spring. The winter had been long and lonely. She had seen Serena every few weekends, alternating the visits. Larry had given her those weekends off now that she was pretty much her own boss, managing the minimart for him, ordering the inventory, scheduling the employees. But no matter how lonely, she had no intention of moving back to Milwaukee, nor did it seem Serena was interested in returning to Tamarack Creek. Serena had been given two promotions, accompanied by pay increases, and had moved to a nicer apartment in a complex with security locks on the outer doors. She still lived on the northeast side of the city, though, near UW-Milwaukee. Carly’s hope in Serena’s return lay in the fact that Serena had not bought a house as she’d talked about earlier. Already Carly was tiring of the drive. Highway 41 was less than scenic with its many billboards. The only stretch that was the least bit pretty was a short one through the Kettle Morraine. She had been as surprised as Serena when Pete took up with Bonnie, and just as pleased. She liked them both. They had been supportive friends without being intrusive. Despite how much she disliked weddings, feeling that she, as a lesbian, was excluded from the legal rights of marriage, she was happy to attend theirs.

Setting the cruise, she let her thoughts wander over the present map of her life. The previous weekend, Janie and Francie had spent at Tamarack Creek. She marveled that Francie seemed none the worse for her ordeal at Jess’s hands. The child had even asked where “the man was who took her to the empty house.” When Carly had assured her that “that man” would never bother her again, Francie had asked why. Janie had said he had moved away. Well, he had in a way, hadn’t he? At least, Francie wasn’t clinging to her mother. In less than two hours, she was on the outskirts of Milwaukee during rushhour traffic and had to focus on the road. Parking outside Serena’s apartment complex, she stepped out into a brisk wind coming off nearby Lake Michigan and carried her dress and bag to the front door where she let herself in. The apartment was quiet, cool, and empty without Serena, who was at work. She hung up her dress, ironed the dress slacks and blouse she was wearing that night to the rehearsal dinner, and set her open bag on a chair in the bedroom. She never completely unpacked for fear she’d forget something when she left. Getting out a book, she sat on the chair nearest the doors that opened onto the balcony. From there she could glimpse the lake in the distance. The huge body of water surged landward, its waves topped by whitecaps. On a nice day, she would have driven there and walked in the park by the lake. Today, she was content with watching. The key in the lock an hour later brought her out of the novel. She got up to open the door, but Serena pushed through it first, a smile of delight on her face. “I saw your car outside. It’s so good to see you.” Dropping her purse on the floor, Serena reached for Carly. Whenever Carly was with Serena again, no matter how much she’d looked forward to their time together, she withdrew a little. At home she wanted to kick herself for not taking full advantage of their time together, unable to understand why she couldn’t just throw herself unreservedly into these

weekends. “Let’s go make love.” Serena pulled Carly toward the bedroom. “What time is the dinner tonight?” Carly asked, hanging back. “There’s time enough for a quickie.” “I’ll have to take a shower afterward.” Carly resisted, knowing she’d later be annoyed with herself for doing so. “So will I.” Serena looked questioning. “Let’s stop wasting time and get at it.” Carly laughed then and gave in. Their lovemaking was like it had been when days passed without their seeing each other: frantic with need, the excitement so intense that there was little foreplay. Scattering their clothing over the carpet, they fell naked together on the bed. How good it felt, Carly thought ​ skin on skin, breasts pressed together, lips and tongues tasting, hands between each other’s legs, fingers probing. She struggled to hold off climax, stroking slowly. It was the only time there was no distance between them. All too soon it was over, and they parted to lie on their backs, panting for breath. “God, I needed that,” Serena said, idly caressing Carly’s damp skin. “How about you?” “If I said no, you’d know I was a liar.” She placed a hand over Serena’s. “Let’s go shower.” In the banquet room at the restaurant, their hair still wet, they greeted Pete and Bonnie, who introduced them to family and friends. “These are the two people who brought us together,” Bonnie kept saying as she clutched Carly’s hand in hers.

Before they sat down to eat, Bonnie whispered, “It was bad enough to see you move away. Now Serena says she’s going too.” “What?” Carly asked, but Bonnie moved on to the head table without answering. As she studied the menu, Carly stole questioning glances at Serena, who was chatting with the best man and his wife across the table. Then, saving her inquiries for later, she launched into a conversation with Bonnie’s sister, Melody, and her boyfriend. After the rehearsal dinner, they hung around the bar with Pete and Bonnie and a number of the others. There was no time to ask Serena about Bonnie’s comment. Before leaving for the apartment, Bonnie took Carly aside. “I spoke out of turn,” she said. “I thought you knew. Forget what I said. Forget I said it.” “Forget what?” Carly asked. “Just wait for her to tell you. Okay?” Bonnie searched Carly’s eyes for a promise. “Okay. I will.” Over the years, Carly had gone to many weddings and only one commitment ceremony ​ that of Ginny and Barb. This wedding was like others, yet different. The mother and father of the bride walked Bonnie down the aisle. The minister invited the audience to support the marriage. The vows were the usual. Sandwiched between compositions by J. S. Bach, Vivaldi, the processional by Mendelssohn and the recessional by Handel, the solo sung by Bonnie’s sister, “The Wind Beneath My Wings,” seemed out of context. At the reception, Serena and Carly danced only the fast dances with each other. Although Carly felt resentful about the social strictures they felt bound by, they stayed until the DJ packed up his things. Then they said their good-byes.

The city was still awake. Cars were parked outside bars and restaurants and theaters. Serena negotiated the sparse traffic in silence and parked in her spot behind the building. In the apartment, she put on a CD and spoke for the first time since they’d left the hotel where the reception had been held. “Want to dance?” “I danced with everyone except the person I wanted to.” “Me too.” Kicking off their heels, they moved slowly around the room, but the other dances had taken their toll. “My hips hurt,” Carly said. “Maybe we should just go to bed and catch some zeds.” “Have you got something to tell me, Serena?” she asked as they undressed and climbed between the sheets. “Bonnie said you’re moving away. Is that right?” “I do. I want to live with you again.” Serena had turned off the lamp, but Carly could see her well enough in the spill of the streetlight. The hazel eyes glowed with humor. “Where?” Carly asked. “At Tamarack Creek.” “With Dan and Andrew?” “For a while. I was thinking we could rent out my farmhouse and build our own place by the Tamarack across the road from Dan and Andrew. What do you think?” “Where would we get the money?” “Jess had retirement coming.”

“You’ve been keeping things from me.” She snuggled closer in the crook of Serena’s arm and threw a leg over her. “Are you going to start up the nursery again?” “I think so. I’m ready.” If she hadn’t been so tired, she would have leaped on top of Serena to show the joy she felt. “When?” “I gave notice today. Two weeks.” Serena was grinning, maybe because Carly looked so dumbfounded. “I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight. What kind of a house?” “A Wausau Home, I was thinking.” “Let’s get up and celebrate. A glass of wine is in order.” “I’ve got some brochures. Want to see them?” “Show me,” she said. The next morning they woke late and still felt wasted. The day was rainy and cold. They spent it inventing different ways to make love and then trying them out. In between they slept and ate. As Carly pulled into the driveway at Tamarack Creek, she would have shouted her happiness if there had been someone to listen. Only Queenie waited inside the door. She let the dog out and phoned Barb and Ginny with her news. “She’s moving back,” she said to Barb. “Serena? To Tamarack Creek?” “Yes.”

“Wonderful. That’s great.” She told them the rest of the plans, then let the dog back inside and told him. He panted with excitement at having her attention. When Dan and Andrew returned home an hour later, she said impatiently, “Where were you?” “Out for a drive. Boy, do you look dreadful. Must have been a wild wedding.” Dan collapsed on the couch and patted it for Andrew to sit down next to him. “Thanks,” she said as an unbidden smile spread across her face. “She’s coming back, isn’t she?” Andrew surmised, smiling back. “Yes, and we’re going to build a house right across the road from you.” She briefly worried that Janie would still want to stay in this house when she came to visit, then discarded the thought. If she did, she did. “Why don’t you save money and live here,” Dan urged. “We’d be one happy family,” Andrew added. “A little space is not a bad thing,” she said.

Epilogue Carly had forgotten the effort that went into the nursery, where she labored every day after working at the minimart. On top of that, there was Serena’s old house to spruce up for renting. They spent the evening hours painting. She couldn’t recall being so tired. Barb and Ginny saved them by coming one weekend toward the end of April and finishing the painting, along with Andrew. After, when Carly and Serena walked through the house admiring their work, Serena shivered. “I couldn’t live here again. Ever. If I could afford to, I’d burn the place down.” Her comments were greeted with silence. Carly put a comforting arm around her, wondering about the wounding effects of memory. Jess must still lurk in every room. “Whoa,” Dan said, coming in the door and reeling back as if hit by a blinding light. “What a difference. Did I come just in time? Are you done?” “Superb timing,” Andrew said, grinning at him. “I brought leftovers home, compliments of the Hotel Tamarack. Let’s go pop a cork or two and eat. What do you say?” “I say yeah,” Barb responded. “I second that,” Ginny put in. “We’ll be there soon. You go ahead,” Carly urged. “Thanks again. All of you,” Serena called as the others trooped out the door. As they turned out the lights and stepped into the clear April night, Carly breathed deeply. Her dreams had all materialized. She stood in the sandy

driveway, staring at the stars littering the sky, and relished her luck. A year ago last March she’d thought life was just beginning anew for her. She wasn’t foolish enough to think that they would all live happily ever after, but it did look promising. Serena stared at the dark house. After making several false starts down the road, Queenie sat in the driveway, waiting for them to follow the others. Carly touched Serena, who said flatly, “I know he’s dead. I saw him die. But I keep waiting for him to jump out at me. Don’t you?” What a legacy, Carly thought. “No. Not anymore.” She linked an arm through Serena’s and drew her toward the road. Queenie jumped to his feet and trotted ahead of them. “Let’s go eat. I’m starved.” “You poor thing. I’ve worked you hard, haven’t I? Why don’t you quit at the minimart? We’ll run the nursery together. Already the old customers are returning and new ones come in every day. I need more help than Brad.” “Hire somebody else.” She liked managing the minimart, and she was writing her column again. “Too much togetherness is a bad thing.” “Do you really believe that?” Serena asked, her eyes on Carly. The night had closed in around them. “Not really. I guess I just don’t trust that you’ve come back for good.” “Carly!” Serena said with obvious surprise. She stopped and turned Carly toward her. Their faces were shadowed, impossible to read. “I’m not going anywhere. This is it.” “When you get what you really want in life, sometimes it’s hard to believe,” Carly said with a laugh. “It’s not you I doubt. It’s just too good to be true.” But she did doubt Serena would stay. Enjoy it now, enjoy it fully. Don’t look back and be sorry that you didn’t make the most of it, she told herself.

They walked on through the dark night, the slit of star-strewn sky lighting their way on the black, tree-lined road.