want you to come with me, so much. I don’t want to go alone. But I will. You have two days to think about it.”
“That’s all? Come on, Ethan. This is huge. A week, at least.”
He shakes his head. “Two days. I’ll be at the motel, same room as before. If you want to come with me, be there.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then this is goodbye.”
Allie shivers, all of the warmth of the burger joint unable to touch her. The smell of fries and burgers turns her stomach.
Ethan leans forward again, taking both of her hands in his warm ones. His eyes gaze into hers with mesmerizing intensity. He lowers his voice, making his words a secret just between the two of them.
“Come on, Allie. Please. Die with me. Say yes.”
“Yes.”
She’s surprised by the relief that washes over her. Yes. She can let go of everything. The cello and the broken relationship with her father. Her guilt. The wasteland of a life stretching ahead of her.
“That’s my girl. I knew you’d be the one.”
“Why wait?” she asks. “If we’re going to do it, why not just—do it?”
“No way! People spend a year planning for a wedding, you know? This is the most important day of our lives. It needs to be a ceremony.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Leave it all to me, Allie. Just leave it all to me.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
PHEE
Phee has a name and a town, and it turns out that’s all she needs. Josephine Conroy is the only woman of that name in Colville, Washington. Her number is in the directory, and she answers on the second ring. A TV is loud in the background and the music is loud in Phee’s head and she’s already on edge. She consciously wills her fingers to relax their grip on the phone, tries to slow her breathing.
“Is this Josephine Conroy?”
A brief pause, canned TV laughter in the background. Then: “Sorry, I don’t want any.”
“Wait!” Phee blurts. “Please. I’m a friend of Braden’s and I need to talk to you.”
“Who is this?” The voice is sharp, but Phee hears the sound of a door closing, and the TV noise mercifully fades.
She’d meant to lie, but in response to this woman’s directness, the only real approach is honesty. “My name is Ophelia MacPhee. Your brother isn’t doing so well and—”
“That’s the understatement of the century.”
“I’m trying to help him, but I need to know—”
“How do you know him? Because if you’re some reporter snooping around for what you lowlifes call backstory so you can dredge up the old tragedy and hook it to the new one, you can just go directly to hell.”
Phee reminds herself to breathe. “I’m not a reporter, Josephine. I—”
“See, that’s the thing. Nobody calls me that except telemarketers. So if you’re really a friend of his, then you’d know better.”
“He doesn’t exactly talk about his family a lot,” Phee shoots back, her voice sharpening.
To her great surprise, the woman on the other end laughs. “Point for you, Ophelia.”
“Nobody calls me that. It’s Phee.”
“Jo.”
“All right, Jo. I’m the luthier in charge of the cello. So you’re right, it’s not like Braden and I are close. But I’m worried. He’s not playing. Now Allie’s not playing.”
“Maybe in light of the recent tragedy, that’s expected. For the girl. Braden hasn’t been able to play in years. Ever since . . .” A short silence. A breath. “Ever since what happened. But I’d guess you know about that or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“I only know what was in the papers. He won’t talk about it. I feel like I could help him more if I knew what happened to him.”
“Nobody knows. That’s the thing. Mitch is the only one, and he . . . Look. Maybe you mean well, but after all these years, I don’t see how any of this could be helpful. I really do need to go now.”
“If he could play again, though. He says he’s nothing without the music. It’s what started him drinking, he says.”
A long silence stretches out, and Phee bites her tongue to keep from filling it.
“I always blamed Lilian for that,” Jo finally says. “A real princess, she was. Wanted to be up on a pedestal with him kneeling at her feet. I always thought what broke him was her kicking him to the curb, but maybe you’re right about the music. Are you sure you’re not a reporter? I’ve talked too much already. I’ll need to clear you with my brother before I