Free B000FC1MHI EBOK by Barbara Delinsky Page B

colleagues in New York. They were real. They interested him.
    Small talk did not.
     
    Julia visited the Hornsby house. Nestled not far from the harbor, it was filled with friends. She dropped off a chicken casserole, offered her condolences, and left. She did the same at the homes of Grady Bartz and Dar Hutter.
    The situation was different at the Walsh house. It stood on Dobbs Hill, where so many of the artists lived, and artists liked open space. At the high crests, jagged spruce tips grazed the sky, but the face of the hill was an expanse of rolling meadow. There were no crowds at the Walsh house, no neighbors milling about. A lone Volvo station wagon sat in front of the barn, which in turn sat not far from a weathered farmhouse.
    Julia climbed the steps, crossed the porch, and knocked on the frame of the screen door. The woman who quickly appeared was in her early thirties, which Julia knew only because Zoe had filled her in. This was Jeannie Walsh’s sister, Ellen Hamilton. She was single and taught high school math in Ohio. With the accident, she had become an instant parent. Despite sandy hair and a face full of freckles, she looked ten years past her age.
    When Julia introduced herself, Ellen put a finger to her lips and slipped outside, silently closing the screen behind her. She gestured Julia to a wood swing halfway down the porch. Once seated, she whispered, “They’re both asleep on the sofa. They’re exhausted.”
    “You must be yourself,” Julia said softly. “I’ve brought dinner. Is there anything else I can do?”
    Ellen smiled sadly. “No. Thanks, though.” Her smiled faded. Age and anguish returned. “Evan’s family is handling the funerals. Most of their friends have gone back with the bodies. We agreed the girls were too young to go. They’re coming to live with me in Akron. It’s really just a matter of packing up this place, and I’m the only one who can do that.” She looked bewildered. “How do you decide what to take? I live in a small place, so I can’t take it all. I’m trying to imagine what might have meaning for the girls when they’re grown.” Her voice had begun to waver, her eyes to water. Seeming unable to say more, she looked at the far horizon.
    A soft sound came from the door, the breeze of a small child slipping out. She had dark hair in a tumbled mass, a ketchup-stained jersey and shorts, and dusty bare feet. Eyes barely open, she put her thumb in her mouth, slipped between the nearest pair of legs—which happened to be Julia’s—and laid a head on her thigh.
    Without a thought, Julia scooped her up. The child was instantly asleep on her shoulder.
    “I’m sorry,” Ellen whispered.
    Julia wasn’t. She loved the feel of the little body against her. “It’s fine. I’m good at this.”
    “She’s three. She has no idea what’s going on. Neither of them do. Boy, I’m not up for this.”
    “You’ll manage.”
    “But what harm will I do in the process? The thing is, there’s no one else. I’m Jeannie’s only surviving relative. Evan’s parents are older, and his two brothers already have nine children between them. I wouldn’t be comfortable with that for the girls.” She made a sound of disbelief. “Talk about life-changing moments. Little did I know when my phone rang yesterday morning…”
     
    Five o’clock came and went without a call from Ian.
    Noah pulled a beer from the stash that he kept in the cabin cooler now that summer was coming. Nothing else quenched thirst better on those days when the sun beat down with so much heat that the wind just couldn’t cut it. Nothing better chased down a lunch of two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on a hot day than a beer. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have even one sandwich now or that it wasn’t particularly hot. The beer was good.
    A second beer followed the first, and by the time six o’clock came and went with no Ian, Noah had mellowed enough so that he wasn’t wholly annoyed. There