I climb slowly to my feet, realizing that I have drunk too much wine.
Good.
Without bothering to close the box, I leave the storage unit, forgetting to even lock it. If I am lucky, maybe someone will steal these boxes before I have to go through them. I am halfway to the elevator when my cell phone rings. It is Margie.
“Hey, Margie,” I answer quickly, grateful for the distraction.
“Hey, Tully. I’m making reservations for Saturday night in Los Angeles. What was the name of that restaurant you love?”
I smile. How had I forgotten, even for a moment? This weekend is Marah’s high school graduation. I will be with the Mularkeys and the Ryans for two days. It is a gift I won’t take for granted. Maybe I will even ask Johnny for help in getting a job. “Don’t worry, Margie. I already made reservations for all of us. Seven o’clock at Madeo. ”
Fourteen
This weekend, I am going to be my old self. I will pretend that my life is ordinary and that not everything has changed. I will laugh with Johnny and hold on to my goddaughter and play Xbox games with the boys.
I will not walk into their new house and see only empty chairs and missing people. I will focus on who is left. Like the Wordsworth poem, I will find strength in what remains.
But when the Town Car pulls up in front of a contemporary house on an uber-landscaped lot in Beverly Hills, I feel panic tug at my resolution.
Kate would hate this house.
A Xanax calms my runaway nerves.
I get out of the car and haul my single suitcase up the stone walkway. I go to the front door and ring the bell. When no one answers, I open the door and step inside, calling out.
The twins come bursting down a wide stone staircase like a pair of Great Dane puppies, bumping into each other, laughing loudly. At nine and a half, both have long, unruly brown hair and wide, toothy grins. They shriek at the sight of me. I have barely a moment to prepare before I am knocked back by the exuberance of their hug.
“I knew she’d come,” Lucas says.
“You liar,” Wills says with a laugh. “I said it. ” To me, he says, “What did you get Marah?”
“Probably a Ferrari,” Johnny says, coming into the room.
In one look, our history rushes past like a river, tumbling images. I know we are both thinking of the woman who isn’t here, and of the distance that has grown between us. He comes toward me.
I hip-bump him because I don’t know what to say. Before he can respond, I hear Margie call out for me. In minutes, I am surrounded by them—the boys, Johnny, Bud, and Margie. Everyone is talking at once, smiling and laughing. When the twins drag their grandparents back up the stairs for some “sick Xbox game,” Johnny and I are left alone again.
“How is Marah?” I ask.
“Fine. Doing well, I think,” is what he says, but I hear more truth in his sigh. “How are you? I keep watching for The Girlfriend Hour to start back up. ”
This is my moment. I could tell him the truth, maybe even ask for help. I could tell him about my collapsed career and ask for advice.
I can’t do it. Maybe it is his sorrow, or my pride, or a mixture of the two. All I know for sure is I can’t tell Johnny how ruined my life is, not after what he has been through. I don’t want his pity. “I’m fine,” I say. “I’m writing a memoir. George tells me it is sure to be a bestseller. ”
“So you’re fine,” he says.
“Totally fine. ”
He nods and looks away. Later, even when I am swept away by the sheer joy of being with these people again, I can’t help thinking about my lie to Johnny. I wonder if I am the kind of fine that Marah is.
* * *
Marah is not fine. We learn that lesson the hard way. On Saturday, the day of her graduation, when we are gathered in the living room, Marah comes down the stairs. She looks—ghastly is all I can think of, or ghostly—pale and thin, with slumped shoulders and dull black hair that falls like a curtain in front of her face.
“I need help,” she says at the bottom of the stairs, and lifts her arm. She is bleeding profusely. I rush to help her, and so does Johnny. Once again, we bang up against each other, say things we shouldn’t; what I know is this: Marah needs help and I have promised to be there for her. I swear to Johnny that I will take care of her in Seattle, get her in to see Dr. Bloom.
Johnny doesn’t like letting her go with me, but what choice does he have? I say I know how to help her and he has no idea what to do. In the end, he decides to let her live with me for the summer. But he doesn’t like it. Not at all. And he makes sure I know it.