“Jess. Hey, Tori, Sarah,” Chris said, crowding in after.
“Chris.” Alex heard the surprise in Tori’s voice and then saw Tori’s eyes pinball between her and Chris and then back again. “Jess was just teaching us how to cast on.”
“Cool.” He nodded at Lena. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Lena said. Her normally sour scent did not change.
Tori started to rise. “Alex, there’s a plate in the oven and—”
“She knows her way around the kitchen,” said Jess, gathering up the yarn and needles. “Come on, let’s leave these two to their dinner.”
“Hello,” said Lena, “obvious.”
“Do you always have to be mean?” asked Sarah.
“Chris, would you like some bread to take back to your place? There are a couple loaves in the pantry.” Tori started that way. “Let me—”
“Alex can do it, Tori,” Jess said. “As Lena is so fond of pointing out, she’s not a cripple. Alex, there’s hot water in that kettle, and Tori made a very nice crumble.”
“Apple,” said Sarah. She was studying Chris. “That’s your favorite, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” said Chris. “Uh, thanks, Tori.”
“Come on, everyone. We’ll get that fire back up in the front room,” Jess said, shooing the other girls out, closing the connecting door to the front room behind them. Beyond, Alex could make out Lena’s muffled complaints and then something sharp from Jess.
Her cheeks warmed. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s eat,” he said.
She got the food—Tori had left enough to feed a small army—while Chris dug out another plate and silverware and then set about making mugs of herbal tea. As she sliced bread, she said, “Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for remembering me when you were out there.
I … it …” She turned around, saw from the set of his back that he was listening. “It feels nice that you remembered.” There was nothing for a moment, and then, as he turned, she
caught a fleeting scent of apples. “Actually,” he said, “you’re kind of hard to forget.”
It was déjà vu all over again.
After polishing off dinner and devouring what was left of the crumble, they sipped tea. They sat long enough that Alex heard the creaks overhead and knew that Jess had chased everyone upstairs. She and Chris didn’t talk much, which both relieved her and made her crazy. With Tom, conversation just came. Chris was so quiet. Yet this was cozy; it was intimate…. It was Tom all over again, but it wasn’t, couldn’t be. If anything, it was a pale imitation, like a faded Xerox you’d copied about a hundred million times until there was just an impression of the original. Tom was Tom, and Chris was shadows, and no amount of wishing would make Chris into Tom either. And she didn’t wish that, not for a second, not in a million years. She needed Chris, pure and simple; she wanted his trust, to make him her ally. That was why she’d invited him in, right? Right?
“Can I ask you a question?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
“Um … sure,” she said, pushing out of her slouch. Ghost dozed on her lap, his paws twitching. “What?”
“Why are you carrying your parents’ ashes?” When he saw her expression, he said hastily, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if it’s too personal.”
“No, it’s okay,” she said. Yeager hadn’t even asked that, and of course, Tom hadn’t known to begin with. “They died a couple years ago, and they wanted their ashes scattered on Lake Superior, that’s all.”
And it really was all, come to think of it. No big deal. Why oh why hadn’t she told Tom when she had the chance? But of course, she knew why.
Because then I would’ve told him about the monster. Once I got started with Tom, there would’ve been no holding back, and I just didn’t want to risk it. I should’ve trusted him; I held back too long—
“Oh. Was there something special about now? I mean, you could have done it anytime, right?”
“It just seemed like the right time,” she said, and realized the truth of this. If she’d been back at Aunt Hannah’s, she would’ve been trapped in the city—and quite likely very dead by now. It was as Tom had said: the right place at exactly the right moment.
Chris might have heard something in her tone, because his eyes narrowed a bit, but his shadow-scent didn’t change and then he shrugged. “Okay. I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance, but maybe come spring, we could go up there. If you want. I mean, I would take you.”
The fact that she had no intention of being in Rule come spring didn’t make her hesitate for a second. If he thought she would be there, he and everyone else might chill out, and then she’d find her chance to get away. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”
She dumped Ghost from her lap, and they gathered up the dishes to wash and dry. More déjà vu. All they needed was a little kid hanging around.
“You’re lucky you’ve got something left,” Chris said. “The ashes, I mean. I don’t remember my mom at all.”
She handed him a plate. “You don’t?”
He shook his head. “She’s just this big white spot. She left when I was really little. Like only a couple months old. To hear my dad grouse about it, she would’ve booked right out of the hospital if she’d had the chance. I don’t know who she is or where she went, and my dad didn’t keep any pictures.”
“Do you know why she left?”
“My dad was a drunk.” He threw her a tentative glance to gauge her reaction. “He beat her up is what I figure.”
Well, that explained the shadows. Any man mean enough to beat his wife probably didn’t spare his fists when it came to his kid either. “Is that why you said he wanted you dead? I mean, you didn’t say it, but—”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He sighed. “Probably. He had a couple girlfriends. There was this one, Denise. When I was ten, she picked me up from basketball practice. I don’t remember why my dad didn’t come, but he was probably passed out or something. She was dead drunk, too. I knew as soon as I got in the backseat. We’d have had better luck if I’d been driving. About a mile from our house, she crashed the car. Slammed right into a tree. She wasn’t wearing a seat belt. Went through the windshield. Of course, that was my fault, too. I still have nightmares.”