Open House(12)

Priya sat at the table. If Elliot were here, it would be easier to fake being okay. She hated lying, and she knew omitting her meeting with Josie tomorrow counted as a big lie. Years ago, Josie had gotten in touch with Priya under the pretense of a new house on the market, prattling on about an appointment she’d made for Priya to view it, laughing over the irony that she’d once been Priya’s art student, and saying something about how after graduating Yarrow she realized you can’t make a living off art, you need a real job! Brad had wanted to move again, and Priya assumed Josie was the real estate agent he’d selected for them. She’d felt exasperated by the thought of another move, but she’d gone along with it, about to meet with Josie when Brad found out and exploded with rage. He’d told Priya that Josie was an agent trying to poach the sale from another agent, but Priya wasn’t dumb enough to believe that that could ever justify his reaction, so she went to the meeting behind Brad’s back.

“Let’s eat,” Brad said, sinking his large frame into a wicker chair. Priya had decorated the house a few summers ago with bright blues and yellows, and with colorful vases and wicker chairs that surrounded a farm table. Her décor choices struck her as ridiculous in the dead of winter.

Priya sipped her water. “How was your day?” she asked again, stupidly. She wanted to kick herself for repeating the question.

Brad raised his eyebrows, but said nothing about her misstep. He reached for his water glass. “How about you tell me about yours?” he asked instead.

“It was fine,” Priya said, exhaling, grateful he was being easy on her. It was one of the things she loved about him: he didn’t pick fights. Priya raised her fork above the chicken and vegetables. “Elliot mentioned the science project didn’t go well at school this week,” she said, spearing a pepper.

“Did he say what went wrong?” Brad asked. He gulped a swig of water and set his glass down too hard on the table.

“You should ask him,” Priya said, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin.

Brad frowned, and Priya watched as he shoveled the stir-fry into his mouth. He didn’t appear to enjoy it, but maybe he was just distracted about the failed science project. “We should go away,” he said suddenly, chewing furiously. He took another sip of water, and locked eyes with her. “You, Elliot, and me. We should get away.”

“Where would we go?” Priya asked.

Brad held her gaze until she looked down into her lap, embarrassed. Sometimes she felt so dumb in front of him. His mind worked faster than hers, even though it used to be the other way around. She knew part of the reason he’d fallen in love with her was her intelligence, but now her brain felt so clouded with worries, anxieties, and racing thoughts, and she couldn’t seem to get it back on track.

“Anywhere,” Brad finally said, not looking at her anymore. “Anywhere but here. Let’s get out of Waverly for a bit. Maybe a fishing trip somewhere, the kind of thing we’ve always said we’d do, but we never have.”

“It’s January,” Priya said, unsure of where he was going with this, unsure of what had brought it on.

“So we’ll hop on a flight somewhere. Even better.”

“Um, okay,” Priya said. She supposed Elliot might like a vacation, and she certainly could use one.

“Great,” Brad said. “I’ll look into some options.” His phone buzzed, and Priya watched as he nearly knocked over his water glass to conceal whatever message was on it. “It’s the hospital. I’ll have to call back. You don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” she said, forcing a smile at her husband.





SEVEN

Haley

That evening Haley sat on a stool inside her mother’s immaculate kitchen, watching Liv carefully place an ice cube into the dirt of one of her potted orchids. Haley loved her parents’ home with its wide doorways, exposed wooden beams, and stucco walls. It was the kind of house that was supposed to look lived in, and it used to, before Emma disappeared and Liv started maniacally organizing and cleaning each night. What Haley remembered most about the house from her childhood was the immense amount of artwork that always scattered the surfaces: kitchen countertops, side tables, even the backs of toilets next to scented candles they never lit. Emma’s talent had been obvious from a young age—everyone remarked upon it—and it made Haley happy to be surrounded by her sister’s art. She wasn’t the type to get jealous, and besides, there was plenty of praise to go around, because that’s how her parents were. And as Emma’s artistic ability was escalating, so was Haley’s academic ability. It had felt good to make her parents happy, and Haley wondered when the last time was that she’d done that.

“Where is he?” Liv asked, finally glancing up from her plants.

Haley sipped her coffee. “I don’t know,” she murmured. Bowling was the only activity her father still participated in outside the house, and he didn’t carry a cell phone. He’d said he found the phone in his pocket unsettling, the fact that someone could call him with devastating news at any moment, and he looked at Liv and Haley as if they were insane whenever they urged him to carry one for safety purposes. Nope, he’d say, or, no siree. He didn’t go so far as the grocery store anymore, or to the library, which he’d once loved, or to the town pool, even on the most sweltering days of summer. He hadn’t made a new friend in the decade since Emma had been gone; he hadn’t done anything at all, really, besides the bowling.