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been ripped off the walls. The only sign that it had once belonged to their son was Terry's mural on the west wall, a goofy Cheshire-cat caricature of Daisy grinning out at the world from a leafy tree house. That and the hole Matty had punched in the wall. |
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Calvin stepped outside to the landing. He wanted to go. "Terry . . ." |
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She did not answer. She was at the window peering into the backyard. |
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"Terry, enough. This is sick." |
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But she remained frozen, her eyes fixed on something below. |
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She walked by him and down the stairs. He followed. |
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But instead of heading back to the car, she turned left and walked around to the rear. |
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The backyard was a still-life canvas except for a wrinkled moon that floated on the black slick of the pool. And the white noise of cricketsthousands of insect legs scraping against each other. Someplace an air conditioner hummed. |
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Still without a word, Terry moved across the grass toward the pool. Calvin followed a few steps behind. She came to a stop at the dead end, near the diving board, and stared into the dense shadows of the woods. |
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It was as if his words never reached her. After a moment she lowered her face to the water |
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"No," he said, and before she could step off the edge, he grabbed her. "What are you doing?" |
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He turned her around. Her eyes appeared sightless. He pulled her against his chest, put his arms around her. Finally he felt her relax against him. "I love you," he whispered. "Terry, we still have each other. Please, let's not lose that." Did he feel her nod, ever so slightly? |
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For several minutes they held each other by the pool's edge without speaking. Calvin closed his eyes and caressed her back. He tried to make his mind blank. Still, the rumble of the air conditioner. The Starkeys'. He had heard it earlier but in the moment hadn't thought about it. The woods carried sound . . . But this was too close, and |
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