on the standardized tests, which means she never knows where she is in a building, which is weird. Between that and the house being all cut up after this divorced person burned up, she has a hard time leading him to the right room. Plus, she’s a little scared. Like, what if the old lady is still up there, like they’ll open some door and her skeleton will spring out and chase them outside and all the way down to the bay.
Upstairs, there are so many partitions that she can’t tell which window he was pointing at or whether it’s on this side of the dividing wall or somewhere else. Plus, she’s freaking. Nothing this nice guy did, nothing he said.
The Archambaults had a fight and then the mother caught fire. After the divorce.
She says, miserably, ‘I don’t know which room.’
‘It’s that one. There.’
Everything in her sinks. ‘Oh.’
He’s very nice about it, really. There is nothing special or different about the right room, only that it’s the right one. Yellowed window shades sag at half mast and the linoleum is pocked with dents where generations of different furniture stood after she died. The wallpaper has faded to nothing. There are no smoke marks, no charred woodwork. Just water stains and nail-holes where pictures used to be. It’s as if nothing ever happened here. He studies the sketch in his notebook while Steffy fidgets. He paces, considering, until she snaps, ‘Are you done?’
‘What? Another minute. If you don’t mind.’
Her mind roams out and when it comes back, Steffy is disrupted and writhing, so her voice comes out all freaky and weird. ‘I have to go.’
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Matter? Nothing. I’m fine. It’s just. I have to go!’ Gulp. Start over. ‘Do you know what time it is?’
‘Five.’
‘Shit. I’m supposed to be home.’ She isn’t but she has to be; she has no idea why she’s so scared.
‘No prob,’ he says easily. ‘I’ll take you.’
‘No,’ she says. ‘No way.’
‘Right. Never get into a stranger’s car.’
‘That isn’t it. OK, I really have to go.’ Steffy isn’t exactly crying when she bolts, it’s just sweat running down, it’s . . . OK, if she starts in front of this guy she will totally lose it. What scares her second most in the world is that if she does cry, she won’t be able to stop. Shit, he’s following! Her voice trickles out. ‘Take your time. Look around all you want.’
‘You’re upset.’
‘I’ve gotta go.’
‘It’s too hot to walk.’
‘It isn’t far.’
‘At least let me buy you a Coke for the road.’
‘Can’t,’ Steffy says urgently. ‘Can’t!’
‘What’s so important that you can’t wait and I can’t take you?’
Grief boils up in Steffy and runs over. ‘I have to get dressed for this stupid party, OK?’
She walks until she’s sure he’s gone back inside, where he can’t see her. Then she starts to run. When she gets home nothing has happened and everybody is fine.
10
Nenna
It was weird at Lunch Bunch today, acting like everything was all right with me when everything was all wrong, what with Davis turning out to be a rat and me laying down the line and not knowing which side of it I was on. I should have stayed back, but in Fort Jude you have to go out and show yourself to the people because you don’t want to hear what they say about you when you don’t.
In a way it was a relief, sitting down with the girls like always, pretending nothing’s changed and it’s all fine. We were assigning chores for Patty Kalen’s engagement party, which we’re giving because her dad’s a drunk and poor Cecilia died before the divorce went through. Davis or not, tonight I’m dressing, if not to kill, then at least to maim, because in this town acte de presence is everything, and four hundred people are coming to the club! Kara Coleman had Buck order Champagne from a Napa vineyard and the club staff is doing the wet bar and the buffet, and if Brad bitches we’ll tell him, ‘Cheap at the price.’ He’s paying, but we’re in charge. Cecilia suffered at his hands but she loved him so we never said a word, and whatever she suffered, tonight is our big chance to make it up to her. We’re damn well helping Brad do right by their daughter, so she can look at the pictures years later and be proud.
It was an odd day. Sallie put down her checklist. ‘Wow,’ she said, and I still don’t know