She thought about the trip she’d planned so carefully. She imagined herself sitting at a lido café in Positano, all by herself, sipping a limoncello and watching the fishing fleet in their colorful boats. She knew exactly what would be going through her mind—Crystal’s children.
She grabbed her tote bag and headed out. It didn’t matter what Derek’s will dictated and the probate court decreed. She felt an obligation to that family that wasn’t written in any document.
Instead of driving home, she drove to Crystal’s house. She’d made a promise to Charlie that she would visit often, every day if Charlie needed her to, and she meant to keep that promise.
“Lily!” Charlie whipped open the door before she even rang the bell and leaped into her arms. “Come on in. We’re just having a snack.”
Sean came to greet her. Ashley yelled something, spraying crumbs from her mouth. “You hungry?” he asked Lily, gesturing at the coffee table. It was spread with squirt cheese and crackers, cans of soda and Crystal’s good highball and martini glasses.
“We’re having happy hour,” Charlie said. “I’ll make you one.”
Sean cleared a space on the sofa and Lily sat down. “Happy hour?” she asked.
“I’m never actually happy anymore,” Charlie said, “but Uncle Sean says we have to eat.”
“That’s true.” She turned to Sean and their gazes held fast for a strange, electric moment. There was something between them, the painful bond shared by shipwreck survivors. She looked away quickly with the odd feeling that he’d seen something he shouldn’t.
“Here you go.” Charlie offered her a Ritz with a tower of cheese.
It looked like a heart attack on a cracker. “That looks…delicious.” To avoid putting it in her mouth, she indicated a box on the coffee table. “Your Brownie badges?” she asked.
“Yep. I’m supposed to sew them on a sash to wear with my uniform.” She picked one up, looking completely lost. “Mom was going to help me do that.”
Lily tried to say something, but she couldn’t find her voice. This happened so many times a day to Charlie, to the whole family. It was the unbearable cruelty of untimely death. Things were left undone, interrupted.
While she was trying to figure out what to say, Sean poured 7-Up into one of Crystal’s martini glasses. “You and I will do it together, okay, Charlie Brown?”
“Okay.”
“Do you want an olive or a twist with that?” he asked.
“An olive? Eeuw.”
“Straight up, then,” he said, and handed her the glass.
Lily discreetly set down her cracker. Really, using the good bar glasses was no crime. Judging by the state of the house, those might be the only clean ones left. The place seemed more cluttered and chaotic each time she visited. At one end of the room was an indoor putting green. The stand by the door was stacked with old magazines and books. Cameron came downstairs, looking sullen and disheveled. “Hey, Lily,” he said. He squirted cheese onto a cracker and ate it in one bite. Speaking with a full mouth, he said, “Anyone seen a compass? I need it to do homework.”
“What’s a compass?” asked Charlie.
He rolled his eyes. “Never mind, moron.”
“Uncle Sean! He called me a moron.”
Sean was preoccupied with wiping a smear of cheese off the baby’s chin. “Don’t call your sister names.”
Charlie stuck her tongue out at Cameron. “You’re just all mad because Uncle Sean put parental control filters on the computer.”
“Big deal, moron.”
“Uncle Sean! Lily!”
A timer sounded somewhere in the house, like the bell at the end of a boxing round. “That’s the dryer,” Sean said. “Cam, go get the stuff out and fold it.”
“But—”
“Now.” They locked gazes. Cameron’s eyes narrowed, then he stalked out of the room.
Charlie gave an injured sniff.
“You go help him fold,” Sean said.
“But—”
“Do it, Charlie.”
She looked to Lily as though for support. Lily said nothing. Charlie’s chin trembled, and she turned and marched away like a prisoner to an execution.
Sean held the 7-Up can so Ashley could drink from it. Lily bit her tongue again, and their eyes met over the baby’s head. “My world and welcome to it,” he said.
“You got through another day,” she told him, determined to be supportive. “You got through the whole week.”
“Good for me.”
Ashley climbed into his lap and laid her cheek on his chest. His hand, big enough to cover her back, came up and cradled her with surprising tenderness. There was a smear of processed cheese on the baby’s temple, but a smile on her lips as she