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"I don't think so, either," I said, trying to sound casual.
"And you guys are dating."
"Yes."
"Are you... um... really tight?"
"We're not dating each other exclusively," I said, though I hadn't dated anyone else since Robin had returned to town. On the other hand, I hadn't dated anyone before then, either. But we hadn't talked about exclusivity.
"If he asked you to marry him, what would you say?"
"I would say it's none of your business," I said, stating it more harshly than I'd intended. "No, I'm sorry I said that." Phillip's face had flushed. "Truly, Phillip, I married Martin really quickly, and though I'm not sorry and never have been, I guess now I feel a little... cautious about doing the same thing again." Then I felt like a hypocrite. I was as quick in making up my mind as I ever had been. I was just trying to put a mature face on for Phillip's benefit. But I knew I would never stop making up my mind quickly. That was my nature.
The Wy
"The police are really asking questions," he whispered as he gave me a hug.
"Well, sure," I said, surprised. "That would be the way to find out who did such an awful thing to Poppy." Avery was speaking as though asking questions would lead to unpleasant revelations, when what we wanted, as a family, was the truth. But I was grateful to him for escorting the Wy
I had known the Wy
Tonight, they were exhausted and grief-stricken and stu
I had no idea what the Wy
Phillip shook their hands, though I don't think he registered with them. Sandy hugged me as though we were very close, which we had never been, and Marvin hugged me, too, murmuring into my ear that he was so grateful to me for putting them up; the drive had been so long and confusing....
"Have you eaten?" I asked.
"Yes, I think we stopped a couple of hours ago," Sandy said. "I think we ate. I'm not hungry. Are you, Marvin?"
I remembered Marvin Wy
I showed them the bathroom they would share with Phillip (which I had restored to its orderly state) and then their bedroom. I'd opened boxes of tissues and left them on the bedside tables. There was free closet space and a couple of free drawers, extra blankets at the foot of the bed.
"If you need anything during the night, just come get me," I said, showing them where my bedroom was. "Otherwise, there are cold drinks in the refrigerator, muffins in the bread box, and the coffeepot is right here."
"We don't drink coffee," Sandy said earnestly. "But thank you. We'll just wash up and go to bed, if that's okay."
"Anything you want is fine with me," I said. "Here's a key to the house. You may need it tomorrow." I put it out on the counter, making sure they couldn't miss it in the morning.
"You're being so kind," Sandy said, and her eyes overflowed. "Everyone is being so kind." Marvin had put their suitcases in the bedroom, and now he put his arm around his wife. They went into the small room I'd prepared for them. I heard the door close.
I stared after them, the memory of the misery I'd plumbed after my husband died yawning wide at my feet. I would be useless the next day if I let myself step over the brink back into that awful time. With all the will I had, I wrenched myself back into the here and now. My brother's alarmed face was staring at me. He really did look only fifteen at that second.
"Phillip, everything I told them—coffeepot, muffins, if you need me—I would have told you before we went to bed. Anything you want to ask?"
"Is there anything in the refrigerator you don't want me to eat? Anything you're saving for supper tomorrow night or something?"
"No, feel free. Eat me out of hearth and home." I could tell he was trying to be a great houseguest, and that touched me.
"What do we do tomorrow?" he asked.
"Tomorrow, I'm going to have to do stuff co
"The study? The room with all the windows and books?"
"Right. Sometimes Robin works in there, if his apartment gets to feeling too small. So don't rearrange the piles of books."
He snorted, as if that was ludicrous. "I'm not that much of a reader," he explained. "That book of Robin's was the first one I'd read in months. I'm not much on school, either."
Meaning, I gathered, that the day he touched books voluntarily was a day that should be marked on the calendar. I suppressed a sigh. It was hard to believe a brother of mine wasn't a reader. I had never been able to figure out what non-readers did. Maybe, during Phillip's stay, I'd find out.
I knew he had other pastimes. I was thinking, of course, of the condoms, and I thought about health issues. I tried to smile at him. "Tomorrow, you and I are going to talk about some stuff."
His smile faded. "Uh-oh."
"It won't be as bad as all that," I said. I hugged him, and just when I was about to let him go, I pulled him tighter instead. "Phillip, I'm so glad to see you. I was wondering if I'd ever get to see you again. I'm sorry you've been having a tough time. I'm happy you're here."
He patted my back awkwardly and made some indeterminate noises. I'd embarrassed the hell out of him, and he was fifteen and didn't know what to do about it. After a second or two, I realized he was crying. I could only guess at the correct response. I remained still, my arms around him, rubbing his back gently. He wiped his eyes on the shoulder of my sweater, a childish gesture that somehow won me over completely.
"Good night," he said in a clogged voice, then retreated to his room so quickly, I only glimpsed a reddened face.
"Good night!" I called after him, keeping my voice low so I wouldn't disturb Marvin and Sandy Wy
The silence sank into my bones. With a deep sense of relief, I went into my own bedroom. It had been a very long day, maybe twice as long as my days usually were, at least in terms of emotional content. Either Poppy's death or Phillip's arrival would have given me a full slate of thoughts and feelings, and to have both at one time had sent me into overload. I needed to sleep more than I needed anything, and the only thing that would have made my bed look more welcoming would have been a shock of red hair on the other pillow.