- Home
- The Story Sisters
Page 63
Page 63
Annie took his hand once the tray was set down. Her fierce expression surprised him. “You’ve already done so much for me. Is it too much if I ask you to keep watch over her?”
“Claire’s fine. She’s downstairs studying.”
“Yes, Claire. But that’s not what I mean.”
Pete sat on the side of the bed. He knew exactly what she meant. He wished he never had to leave this room and that he and Annie had met years ago. He wished he could somehow let Claire know this was what love was. The ability to ask for something. The desire to give someone what they asked for.
“I intend to,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about Elv.”
CLAIRE WAS GRADUATING from the Graves Academy with high honors. That morning the home health aide said she wasn’t certain Annie would make it through the day. Claire had wanted to forgo the whole thing, skip graduation and stay at her mother’s side, but her grandmother said absolutely not. Annie wanted to see her in her white cap and gown. She had been living for this day. Claire finally put on her graduation outfit. She went up to her mother’s room. The curtains were drawn. On impulse, Claire had thrown up the skirt of her gown, kicking like a Rockette, and they’d all laughed, even Annie. “Oh, hurray!” Annie had cried in a small, delighted voice.
Pete went to graduation with Elise and Mary Fox. He stayed on his cell phone the entire time. Sitting on a chair set up in the soccer field, he felt like one of those commentators in a basketball game, giving the play-by-play. “The headmaster is on the stage,” he reported.
“Tell them he’s fat and sweaty,” Mary Fox chimed in.
“The faculty are all lined up in a row,” Elise added. “It’s crowded as all get out.”
Natalia had been living with them for the past few weeks. Now she was in bed with Annie, holding the phone up so Annie could listen. When the headmaster announced Claire’s name, they cheered. They pretended they weren’t crying. It had all been so exhausting, holding on for this moment. After a while, Natalia felt as if the air was too close. Annie’s breathing was labored. “I think I should get the doctor.”
“Don’t,” Annie murmured. She wanted to close her eyes, but instead, she struggled to listen to the rest of the graduation ceremony. It all poured into the room, the applause and the excitement. They could hear a marching band. Natalia wrapped her arms around her daughter. She sang the lullaby she’d sung a long time ago. Annie was surprised to find that she remembered the words. She remembered her parents’ bedroom in Paris, the orange light seeping in around the white window shades. There was the scent of chestnut blossoms and the sound of leaves rustling in a slow, green rhythm. Sleep, my darling child. Sleep through nights and days. I’ll be here to watch over you.
PETE AND CLAIRE left the school grounds as soon as Claire received her degree. They left Elise and Mary Fox and ran for the parking lot, which was cluttered with cars, many of which had streamers dangling from the bumpers and antennas. Congratulations. Best of luck. Claire threw her diploma in the backseat and tore off her cap. Everything was green in the fields surrounding the school. The other students’ parents were still in the soccer field, cheering. There was a series of awards, including one meant for Claire from the English Department. Mary would accept on her behalf. The head of the department, Miss Jarrett, read a poem Claire had written during the time she stopped speaking. Claire couldn’t have cared less about the award. Her poem was about the sixteenth-century Golden Book in Venice, in which all of the maestros of glassmaking were listed by name. She described the ways in which glass could shatter. Rocks, storms, hail, carelessness, slingshots. In the end there’d been too many to list.
Pete broke the speed limit on the way home. As they raced through town, Claire buzzed the window down and leaned outside. Her face was streaming with tears. It made sense for Pete to drive on the bay road, even though they usually avoided the corner where it happened. It was the fastest way home.
Claire’s back was to him, but Pete knew she was crying. He reached to pat her shoulder. A soft cry escaped from Claire’s mouth.
“She made it till today,” Pete reminded her.
When they got to the house, Claire ran inside to see her mother. She hadn’t been the smartest or the most beautiful, but she had graduated and that had mattered to Annie. Pete stepped into the kitchen. Natalia had heard the car and had come downstairs so Claire could have some time alone with her mother. She handed Pete a cup of coffee. He and Annie had talked about everything, but they weren’t finished.
When Natalia went back to Annie’s room, Pete said he would be right up. He stayed in the kitchen with the dog for a while. He covered his face and wept. When he was done, he patted Shiloh’s head. This wasn’t his house or his family or his dog, but it was his sorrow. The phone rang. It seemed ridiculously loud. The kitchen clock was ticking. It wasn’t the sort of day anyone would remember. Just an average June day. Pete blew his nose on a napkin. Maybe it was the ex-husband telephoning. He hadn’t been able to attend Claire’s graduation because there was also a graduation at his own high school. Just as well; nobody wanted him. Pete didn’t care to talk to him either, but when the phone continued to ring he had little choice but to answer, if only to quiet the damned thing.
He grabbed the receiver and said, “Hello,” feeling awkward.
“Who is this?” A woman’s voice.
For a brief alarming moment Pete thought it was his daughter, Rebecca, calling from the beyond. Then he understood.