Despite barely sleeping at all last night, she paced in agitation. “You know, it was one of those conversations about something that’ll never happen.”
He nodded. “I understand. Ms. Shea said most couples don’t bother with making wills, but I’m pretty sure Derek and Crystal have them. Still, designating someone to take your kids…” He shook his head. “Most people think, why? It’s like buying flight insurance.”
“I always buy flight insurance,” Lily said quietly. She was beginning to feel punchy, perhaps slightly ill. “I told Crystal fine, of course I’ll look after your kids. I was supposed to sign something prepared by her lawyer, but the subject never came up again. Why would it? Things like this just don’t happen.”
He was a man of disconcerting stillness, Sean Maguire. In silence he took her measure with a look she couldn’t read, then asked, “Is that what Derek wanted?”
She felt an ugly little tug of resentment. “I don’t know what he wanted.” Except a divorce. He’d wanted that, and he’d gotten it on his terms, which included joint custody of the children.
She refrained from saying anything. This man had lost a brother. Her opinion of Derek wouldn’t ease his shock and grief or her own.
All right, she told herself, get a grip. Every time she tried to think straight, a huge, overwhelming thought detonated in her head. Crystal was gone.
How could that be? she wondered, looking around the kitchen. The mug with Crystal’s lipstick on it still sat on the windowsill. She wasn’t supposed to be gone; there were errands to be done, engagements marked on her calendar in her loopy scrawl. She was supposed to come back here to her house, her children, her life. It seemed impossible that she wouldn’t.
Lily squeezed her eyes shut and imagined a series of clear freeze frames, like a slide show of beloved snapshots—Crystal as a coltish teenager, laughing as she taught Lily how to do a cartwheel. And later as a young woman, flush with victory at winning one of a dozen beauty pageants. Crystal as a bride, looking like something out of a fairy tale, and then as a mother, bathed in sweat and triumph moments after giving birth to her children. Only yesterday, she’d sat in Lily’s classroom, shredding a Kleenex and holding in tears as she discussed her troubled daughter. She’d been so vibrant, so overwhelmingly alive. How will I hold on to all the memories? Lily wondered. How will I help the children hold on to them?
The thought rattled aimlessly around inside Lily. Her heart had held a cherished friend. And now…nothing but a terrible bright void where Crystal had been.
Lily opened her eyes and raised them to Sean. “So did you and Derek…ever talk about it?”
“No. Never. It’s like you said. Your mind doesn’t go there. No one’s does.”
“These children need answers now. They need to know what’s going to happen to them, not just for the next week but for the next year, for the rest of their lives.”
“I know.”
Susie Shea had told them to come up with a temporary plan for the children to make sure they were cared for in the short term.
“I suppose we’ll find out more later in the week,” Lily said. “You know, when the wills are read.”
An awkward silence stretched out between them. The faint sound of the TV drifted through the house.
“What about Jane Coombs?” asked Lily. “I thought she’d come right over as soon as she heard.”
“You’d think.”
“But…?”
“She got hysterical on me when I told her. She offered to come right over but I told her to wait until she pulled herself together. Didn’t think it would do the kids any good to see her like that.”
“She was about to become their stepmother,” Lily said. “How could she stay away?” She got up, looking for something to straighten or clean. She grabbed the mug with the lipstick, started to wash it, stopped herself. She put it away on a high shelf, lipstick and all. She turned to find Sean watching her without expression.
She refused to explain herself, saying, “So now what? The children need answers, Sean. They need to know who’s going to fix their breakfast in the morning and get them off to school. They need to know who they’ll celebrate Christmas with and who’s going to sign their permission slips and take them to the doctor when they’re sick. That’s what they need. And they need it right now, not after the funeral or the