Dad’s birthday was approaching.
The day of it dawned bright and sunny, with a cloudless blue sky.
Nina pushed the covers back and got out of bed. Today was the day she’d come home for. None of them had mentioned it, of course, they being the kind of women who didn’t talk about their pain, but it had been between them always, in the air.
She went to her bedroom window and looked out. The apple trees seemed to be dancing; millions of green leaves and white blossoms shimmied in the light.
She grabbed her clothes from a heap on the floor, dressed quickly, and left the bedroom. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d say to her mother on this tenderest of days; she just knew that she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. Her memories.
Across the hall, she knocked on Mom’s door. “Are you up?”
“Sunset,” Mom said. “I’ll see you and Meredith then. ”
Disappointed, Nina went down to the kitchen. After a quick breakfast, she set off up the driveway to Meredith’s house, but all she found there were the huskies, sleeping in sunny patches on the porch. Of course, Meredith had gone to work.
“Shit. ”
Since the last thing she wanted to do was roam through this quiet house on Dad’s birthday, she returned to Belye Nochi, plucked her car keys from the bowl on the entry table, and set off for town, looking for anything to occupy her time until sunset. Along the way she stopped now and then to take photographs, and at noon she ate greasy American food at the diner on Main Street.
Before the day ended, though, she was back at Belye Nochi. She slung her camera bag over her shoulder and went inside, where she found Meredith in the kitchen, putting something into the oven.
“Hey,” Nina said.
Meredith turned to her. “I made dinner. And set the table. I thought . . . afterward . . . ”
“Sure,” Nina said, walking over to the French doors, looking out. “How do we do this?”
Meredith came up beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders. “I guess we just open the urn and let the ashes fall. Maybe you could say something. ”
“You’re the one who should say something, Mere. I let him down. ”
“He loved you so much,” Meredith said. “And he was proud of you. ”
Nina felt tears start. Outside, the sky seemed to fold across the orchard in ribbons of salmon pink and the palest lavender. “Thanks,” she said, leaning against her sister. She had no idea how long they stood there, together, saying nothing.
“It is time,” Mom finally said behind them.
Nina eased away from Meredith, steeling herself for whatever was to come. As one, she and her sister turned.
Mom stood in the doorway, holding a rosewood box inlaid with ivory. She was practically unrecognizable in a purple chiffon evening blouse and canary-yellow linen pants. A red and blue scarf was coiled around her neck.
“He liked color,” Mom said. “I should have worn more of it. . . . ” She smoothed the hair from her face and glanced out the window at the setting sun. Then she drew in a deep breath and walked toward them. “Here,” she said, holding out the box to Nina.
It was just a box full of ashes, not really her dad, not even all she had left of him, and yet, when she took it from her mother, the grief she’d been suppressing rolled over her.
She heard Mom and Meredith leave the kitchen and walk out through the dining room. She followed slowly behind them.
A cool breeze came through the open French doors, brushing her cheek, bringing with it the scent of apples.
“Come on, Nina,” Meredith called from outside.
Nina repositioned the camera strap around her neck and headed for the garden.
Meredith and her mother were already there, standing stiffly by the iron bench beneath the magnolia tree. The last bit of sunlight illuminated the new copper column and turned it into a vibrant flame.
Nina hurried across the grass, noticing a second too late that it was slippery out here. It all happened in an instant: her toe caught on a rock and she started to fall and she reached out to stop it and suddenly the box was flying through the air. It crashed into one of the copper columns and shattered.
Nina hit the ground hard enough to taste blood. She lay there, dazed, hearing Meredith’s Oh, no, repeat over and over.