Last Light(64)

The warming weather seemed to revitalize Matt. He talked about his writing—in general terms, of course—and he was less broody, less prone to anger. Only once did he lapse into a mood that weekend. I made the mistake of mentioning the private driver, Alexis. I said, “You sent her packing, right?”

Matt frowned and said he wanted to write. Then he sat at his desk and doodled in his notebook for half an hour. Classic.

Apart from that, we had an idyllic weekend. The following weekend was the same, and then it was April. And despite my certainty that Matt’s fake death and my lies were coming undone, I began to hope. To hope that we were in the clear.

A call from Nate changed all that.

It was the middle of the first week in April. Unseasonably warm wind blew through Denver. At work, I daydreamed too much about Matt. At home, I opened the windows and let the sweet breeze swirl through our condo. And I daydreamed about Matt. Matt beneath me, holding me close, pounding into me …

Or the two of us lying in bed, laughing … walking in the woods … watching the stars …

My cell rang and I rose lazily.

When I saw Nate’s number, my good mood faded. But not entirely. I even smiled a little, because how could I really dread a call from Nate? He was so uniformly good to me, so mannered and gentle. I remembered his concerned face and dark eyes.

“Hey, Nate,” I said. My voice sounded dreamy.

“Hannah.” And Nate sounded truly happy, his voice radiant with warmth.

“I’ve missed you!” I flopped onto the couch. “Really. You’re like the older brother I never had. That’s how I feel.” I’d had a large glass of wine when I got home from work, which made it easier to say those things—but it was how I felt.

“Well, I’m honored. And you’re like the little sister I never had.”

“Not that little.” I laughed. “How old are you anyway?”

“Thirty-five. That puts, what, eight years between us?”

I counted on my fingers. “Seven in May. How do you know my age?”

“I have a dossier of Hannah facts. I keep up to date on these things.” Nate chuckled. “No, Matt told me—in Geneva. He was very drunk at the time, mind you, and waxing on about how he wouldn’t stop drinking until Hannah forgave him. So I said, tell me about this Hannah, and he said, she’s twenty-seven but you wouldn’t know it to look at her, she’s always going to look young because she’s full of light, and I’m never going to love anyone else.”

I smiled and hugged a pillow. Oh, Matt … “What did you say?”

“I said, you’re drunk, Matt, and I can see why the girl is half a country away, and twenty-seven is terrifically young to me, light or no light.”

“Well, thirty-five is young too,” I said. “Terrifically young.”

“You’re good to say so. You seem to be in a great mood, Hannah. I’m glad.”

“I am; you’re right. It’s the weather. April’s finicky in Colorado, blizzards or sunshine. It’s sunshine right now.”

“I know. I’m in town.”

I sat up. “You are?”

“Yes. I said we ought to go to the zoo in the spring, didn’t I? I’m here with Owen. But can you believe my own wife and daughter preferred New York to my company in Denver? Worse, they’re out there with Seth. I wonder if I should be worried.” Nate laughed.

“Seth?” My voice was airless. “New York?”

“Yes, didn’t you hear? He finally signed a record deal. Goldengrove is off touring.”

“Oh…”

“I thought he would have told you. He gave me to understand you two hit it off. Wasn’t he in town for the release party?”

“For a gig,” I said. “I saw him at the party, yes.” I walked to a leaning mirror and watched the color return to my face. So, Seth was keeping his word. He was keeping our secret.

“Well, Hannah, what do you say?”

“Excuse me?”

“The zoo. You, me, and a very excitable nine-year-old.”

“Uh, sure. Of course.” I tried to sound cheerful. I couldn’t see any way out of it, and once I regained my composure and my good mood, I might even enjoy it. As long as Nate didn’t bring up Shapiro and Night Owl …

“Great. I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow?”

“It’s Thursday. I’ve got work. Maybe I can—”

“No, no, I cleared that with Pam.”

I gaped at my reflection. Cleared that with Pam?

“Nate! Would you please stop going over my head like that?”

“I don’t know, Hannah. Old dog, new tricks. See you at ten.”

I smiled and sighed. These incorrigible brothers. “See you at ten.”

*

Nate held Owen’s hand as we walked through the zoo.

“Let me see!” Owen shouted every several minutes. Nate, wearing an eternally patient expression, would release the boy’s hand and watch like a hawk as Owen raced to this or that enclosure. Soon, Owen returned and reattached himself to Nate.

Owen quizzed me as we sat in the Wolf Pack Woods and waited to glimpse an arctic wolf. “Do you live by yourself?” he said. “Do you have a boyfriend? Do you rent your own house? Are you in love with someone?”