On my fourth morning, when I climb out of bed, I notice that the dizziness and the flecks of light are gone. The pain in my thigh has dulled, and the stitches have started to disintegrate. I think Ill leave tomorrow, I tell Reed while were sitting on opposite sides of his worktable. Im feeling much better.
Hes taking a magnifying glass to some heap of machinerya motor, I think. Did my nephew arrange for transportation? he asks.
No, I say, tracing my finger around the rim of a mason jar filled with screws and grime. That wasnt part of the agreement.
So there was an agreement, Reed says. Doesnt seem like it. Seems like youre just making it up as you go.
Story of my life. Theres no real way to counter that, so I just shrug. Ill be all right, I say. He knows theres no reason to worry about me.
Reed glances at me for a moment, his forehead creased, eyebrows raised, before he returns to his task. The fact that youre here says hes worried about you, he says. Doesnt want you anywhere near his father, that much is clear.
Vaughn and I dont exactly get along, I say.
Let me guess, Reed says. He tried to pluck out your eyes for science. He says that last word, science, with such exaggerated passion that I laugh.
Close, I say.
He stops working, leans forward, and stares at me so intently that I cant help but look back at him. It was no car accident, was it? he says.
What do you keep in that shed? I counter. Since were asking questions.
An airplane, he says. Bet you thought they were extinct.
Its true there arent many airplanes. Most people wouldnt be able to afford traveling that way, and most cargo is transported by truck. But the president and select wealthy families have them for business or leisure. Vaughn, for instance, could afford one if he wanted. But my guess is that what Reed calls an airplane is a patchwork of different parts, and not something Id want to board.
I look at the table. He answered my question; now hes waiting for me to answer his.
Vaughn was using me to find an antidote, I say. Something about my eyes being like a mosaic, or something. I dont know. Its hard to follow him. And at the time, I had so many drugs running through me that I thought the ceiling tiles were singing to me. Those days were so vivid at the time, but now, looking back, the memory is a shadow at the end of a long corridor. I cant remember much of anything.
Doesnt sound like something my nephew would allow, Reed says. Dont get me wrong, the poor boy is as oblivious as a rabbit on a lion reserve, but still.
Animal reserves are a thing of the past, but somehow this comparison feels right.
He didnt know, I say. And when I told him, he didnt really believe it was as bad as it was. He still wont. So weve decided its best toI pause, looking for the right wordspart ways. He and Cecily have the new baby coming, and I need to find my brother. And Gabriel, but that would require even more explaining, and Im already starting to feel exhausted and achy just thinking about whats been said so far.
The dull aching becomes a stab of pain in my temple when Reed asks, Then, why, doll, are you still wearing his ring?
My wedding ring. Etched with fictional flowers that dont begin and dont end. More than once Ive thought about cutting into it with something sharp. Making a line, severing the vines just so they stop somewhere.
Can I see your plane? I ask. Does it fly?
He laughs. Its nothing like Vaughns laugh. Theres warmth in it. You want to see the plane?
Sure, I say. Why not?
No reason not to, I suppose, he says. Its just that no ones ever asked before.
You have an airplane in your shed, and no one has ever asked to see it? I say.
Most people dont know its there, he says. But I like you, not-Rose. So maybe tomorrow. For now, we have other things to do.
That night I lie in Reeds yard. It stretches on farther than I can see, empty, aside from the tall grass and the bursts of wildflowers. I lie on the dirt and think, There is where the orange grove would be. And over there, the golf course, with its spinning windmill, its lighthouse gleaming. And farther down would be the stables, abandoned now, where Rose and Linden used to keep their horses. And here, where Im lying, would be the swimming pool. I could coast on an inflatable raft as imaginary guppies flicked their bodies around me in glimmers of color.
I thought Id left that place behind me. But it keeps rebuilding itself in my mind.
Something rustles nearby and I turn my head, watching the grass move. I get the terrible sense that its trying to warn me.
I sit up and hold my breath, trying to listen. But a gust of wind is rolling through. I think its saying my name. No, that voice didnt belong to the wind, though it would make more sense than the truth.
Rhine?
I lean back on my arms, tilt my head all the way to see the figure standing behind me.
Hi, I say.
The moon is full and beaming like a halo behind his head. His curls are his dark crown. He could be a sort of prince.
Hi, Linden says. Can I sit?
I collapse onto my back, liking the way the cold earth feels against my skull. I nod.
He sits next to me, careful to avoid my hair thats splayed around my head like blood. A bullet to the forehead, boom, blond waves everywhere.
Didnt think you were coming back, I say, focusing on the kite in the stars. I look for other kites, or people to fly them.
Linden lies beside me. All I can think is that hes going to get grass stains on his white shirt. Hes going to dirty that lovely hair. I feel like hes trying to prove a point that he can be like menot so neat and perfect.
I didnt send my father, the other day, he says. I didnt know he was going to do that.
What he doesnt say is that his father probably tracked my whereabouts using whatever device he implanted in Cecily. Linden saw for himself the one that had been implanted in me.
Thought you said you knew him so well, I mumble. Without looking back, I can feel his stare.
He was trying to spare me, Linden says. He knew how difficult it would be for me to see you.
So you were spared, I say. Why did you come back?
My uncle called me this afternoon, he says.
I didnt know you even had a phone, I say. Somehow this feels like a violation, a reminder that while Linden treated me as an equal during our marriage, that was only part of the illusion. I was always a prisoner.
He told me you were leaving, Linden says. He said you just planned to walk off and leave everything to chance.
Something like that, I say.
Thats not much of a plan, he says. What are you going to do for money? Transportation? Food? Where will you sleep?
I shake my head. It doesnt matter.
Of course it matters.
This is why Reed was stalling, isnt it? He wanted to talk to you before I left. I suppress a cry of frustration. Please just let this be my problem, I say. Not yours.
Hes silent after that. The silence adds a foreign element to the air, polluting the moonlight, making my throat tight, the crickets extra loud. Planets are leaning in to listen. And finally I cant take it anymore. Just say it, I tell him.
Of course it matters.
This is why Reed was stalling, isnt it? He wanted to talk to you before I left. I suppress a cry of frustration. Please just let this be my problem, I say. Not yours.
Hes silent after that. The silence adds a foreign element to the air, polluting the moonlight, making my throat tight, the crickets extra loud. Planets are leaning in to listen. And finally I cant take it anymore. Just say it, I tell him.
Say what?
Whatever it is you want to say to me. Theres something ugly in there youve been wanting to let out. I can tell.
Its not ugly, he says gently. Or angry at all, really. Its more of a question.
I prop myself on one elbow to look at him, and he does the same. Theres no hostility in his eyes. Theres no kindness, either. Theres nothing but green. That night, at the New Years party, you said you loved me. Did you mean that?
I stare at him a long time. Until his face disappears, and hes just a shadow.
I dont know, I tell him. If I did, it wasnt enough to make me stay.
He nods. Then he gets up, dusts the backs of his legs, and offers his hand to me. I let him pull me to my feet.
Dont leave tomorrow, he says. Please. Give me a chance to figure something out. If I just let you go, Cecily will be livid.
Shell be okay, I say. You dont owe me anything.
Then think of it as doing me a favor, he says. Id like for Cecily to not be angry with me.
I hesitate. How long?
A couple of days, maybe less.
All right, I say. A couple of days. Maybe less.
His lips waver, and I think hes going to smile, but he doesnt. The last time I saw him, he was brimming with words and thoughts, anger and intensity. I could feel them humming inside him. But now theyre all gone. I wonder where he put them. I wonder if he shouted them into the orange grove with the supposed ashes of his dead wife and child. When he opens his mouth, all he says is, If youre going to be out here, you should really wear a sweater. I packed one for you.
Then he turns to leave. The limo is idling in the distance.
It wasnt all a lie, Linden, I burst out when hes a few yards away. My voice is weak, getting smaller with each word. Not everything. Not all of it.
He climbs into the backseat, giving no indication that he believes me.
5
REED SITS across the kitchen table, watching me as I turn the apple in my fingers. Maybe hes right about my never needing to eat. I cant remember the last time I had a real appetite. Even the delicacies served to me on the wives floor wouldnt appeal to me right now.
I keep my eyes down. I dont want Reed to see my defeat. I dont want him to see that Vaughn has had a victory over me, because almost all of my misfortunes can be traced to that man. Being separated from my brother. Losing Jenna. Watching Cecily go with tears in her eyes. Leaving Gabriel to fear the worst. Lindens coldness toward me. I keep staggering forward because I have to, but what Linden said last night is true: Its not much of a plan.
Are you going to eat that, or submit it for fingerprint analysis? Reed says.
I set the apple down neatly, and tuck my hands under the table.
He tilts his head, watching me. Hes eating some sort of deep-fried stew. The smell is repulsive; some of it drips onto his plaid shirt.
Okay, then, he says. No food today either. So what will sustain you?
Oxygen, I say softly.
You need to spice it up with something, he says. This is his way of making conversation. I think he feels sorry for me.
A question, then, I say.
He sets his spoon into the bowl with authority. All right. Go for it.
I look aside, thinking of how I want to word this. You and Vaughn dont seem anything alike, I begin. I guess my question iswas he always this way? You said your mother didnt really care for him.
Reed laughs gruffly. He was quiet all the time. I dont mean like he was being polite or solemn. I mean like he was planning something.
Hes still like that, I say. I try to imagine Vaughn as a child or even as a young man, but I cant. All I see is a version of a young Linden with blackness where his eyes should be.
But he didnt have much purpose until his boy died, Reed says. Thats when he reprogrammed the elevators so that only he could access the basement. I never knew what was going on down there.
Did he used to let you visit? I ask, thinking of what Reed said a few days ago about Vaughn not allowing Reed onto his property.
I used to live there, Reed says. When our parents died, they left that house to both of us. Our father was an architect, and it was an old boarding school hed reconstructed. Thats why its so enormous. Youd think, with all that space, thered be room for both of us. But we seemed to get in each others way. We both like things just so.
Lindens grandfather was an architect, I say quietly, more to myself than to Reed. It makes me happy to know Linden inherited that brilliance. It skipped his father and buried itself in him, like it knew he would do better things with it.
Linden takes after him in a lot of ways, Reed agrees. Vaughn hates when I point that out. He likes to pretend hes the only family that boys got. Wont even talk about Lindens mother, or Lindens brother that died before he was born. Its one of the things we butted heads about. My brother and I were already walking a fine line with each other, but I suppose the last straw was when Linden fell ill.
I raise my head at that. Linden told me about a time when he was very sick as a child. He could hear his fathers voice calling him back to consciousness, but he was too scared to answer. Hed made the decision to let go, but he survived anyway.
Reed stares at something over my shoulder, his pupils turning to pinpricks. That poor boy, he says distantly. I really thought it was the end of him.
What was it? I ask, and he snaps back to attention and looks at me. What made him so sick?
I can tell you what Vaughn said, or I can tell you what I think, he says.
I press my eyebrows together. You think Vaughn was responsible?
Not on purpose, Reed says. I dont think he meant to harm him. But I think he was running some experiment that went haywire. I called him out on it, and he asked me to leave.
So you did? I ask.
I did, he says. Im better off with my own place anyway. I would have liked to take my nephew with me, but Vaughn would have had my head for it. Theres nowhere I could take that boy where Vaughn wouldnt have found him.
I know the feeling, I mumble.
Look at that, Reed says. He slaps his palms on the table, rattling the bowl, startling me. You asked for an answer to one question, and you got an entire story. Feeling sustained yet?
In answer I take a bite from the apple.
Finish your breakfast and then tie that hair back. I have a new project for you.
New project? I say before taking another bite.
A cleaning project, he says. He drops his bowl into the sink and then winks at me. I think you have a knack for making things shine.