She swept off her coat, dropped all her bags, gave Pearl a quick squeeze.
“And dinner!” she gushed. “Thank you.”
Stella kissed him on the cheek and Pearl watched his hand linger on the small of her back. And Pearl disappeared. When Stella was in the room, she filled it—with her beauty, with her scent, with the volume of her being.
Pearl didn’t mind. She liked the shadows. That’s where you got to see all the things that other people missed.
At the table, they ate the meal Charlie had prepared, and talked about Stella’s plan for surviving as a small brick-and-mortar bookseller. It was one of her high-energy nights, when she had Big Plans. She was going to build the newsletter list, the online sales, invite book groups to use the space if they bought the book at the store. She was going to attend the regional book fair, invite authors to visit. Charlie made all the right noises, nodding his head and encouraging with an enthusiastic “Yes!” or “That’s great, Stella!”
Stella was all smiles, touching Charlie’s hand, leaning her body toward his. After dinner, most nights, Pearl would go up to her room and finish her homework, read until she fell asleep. Charlie and her mother would disappear into Stella’s room. She wouldn’t hear another peep from them. He likely wouldn’t be there when she got up for school in the morning. But right now, as they all ate, she watched.
There was something different about Charlie. All the other men who’d shared this table were in Stella’s thrall, hanging on her every word, rapt by her—beauty? Was it beauty? No, it was more than that, something that radiated from inside, a kind of magnetism. But the energy between Charlie and Stella—it was like she was the dancer, and he was the approving observer.
“Tell us about school today, Pearl,” said Charlie.
Stella seemed surprised, as if she’d forgotten Pearl was there. Pearl was surprised, too.
“I dissected a frog in science class,” she said. “We removed its heart.”
They all looked down at their plates. “Really, Pearl?” said Stella, disgusted.
“Ah,” said Charlie. “Did you learn anything that surprised you?”
“Well,” said Pearl. “I wasn’t too enthusiastic about the lab. But it wasn’t as revolting as I thought. In fact, it was kind of fascinating. How things work under the skin. You don’t think about your organs too much, you know?”
Charlie’s grin was wide and knowing as Stella pushed away from the table. Pearl had been looking for a reaction and she got one. And Charlie saw it all.
“Well, there goes my appetite,” said Stella, rising.
“Sit down,” Charlie said.
Pearl startled a little, glanced at her mother. His voice was gentle, coaxing. But Stella did not like it when the attention of a conversation turned away from her. And she did not like to be told what to do—especially by any man. Would she rage? Would she storm off? Pearl braced herself for what came next.
“I think Pearl’s just trying to shock us,” said Charlie, still grinning. The energy in the room cooled.
Stella surprised Pearl by sitting back down, scooting her chair back toward the table. She gave Pearl a look—half amused, half annoyed. Pearl pushed the chicken around her plate.
“Sorry,” she said.
“I emptied the mousetrap in the store room today,” said Stella. “It was every bit as disgusting as I imagined it would be. How’s that for shocking?”
Charlie put a hand on Stella’s. “You don’t have to do things like that, Stella,” he said. “I’m here now—to help.”
“Thank you, Charlie,” she said. Her voice was soft and sincere.
This one was definitely different.
Pearl helped Charlie clean the dishes while Stella went into the study to balance the books. As Pearl moved around the kitchen, she felt Charlie’s eyes on her.
“You’re a funny kid, Pearl,” he said, when she lifted her gaze to his. He tapped his temple. “Clever.”
Pearl had grown used to being invisible. She didn’t even know until that moment how nice it was to be seen.
SIX
Selena
Her house didn’t look like her house as she pulled into the drive and sat, car running. It was a shimmering facsimile, a pretty place that didn’t belong to her. It was exactly the kind of home she’d dreamed of as a girl—a big two-story, with expansive rooms, high ceilings, with shutters and shingles, big leafy shade trees, careful landscaping. She changed the perennials out every season, weeded meticulously in the summer, decorated elaborately for Halloween and Christmas. Her mother always said: Your home is the heart of your life.