The Things We Keep(89)

I nod. “You promised you would look after your sister. I promised I would support my husband in sickness and in health. And we did. Just because Anna and Richard made decisions we didn’t understand when we weren’t there, doesn’t mean we let them down. It just means … they did something we didn’t understand.”

I wait for Jack to lob back a retort, but he remains silent. Tears shine in his eyes.

“I admit, I still blame myself sometimes. But when I’m thinking clearly, I know that I had no control over Richard’s actions. And though you may have some control over Anna’s, she can still make her own decisions. And if I know anything about Anna, she’ll make them, with or without your support.”

At this, a soft laugh comes from Jack. “Wow,” he says. “You do know Anna.”

“Keeping her away from Luke won’t change what has already happened. But it might change what happens in the future.” I take the notebook from Peter and thrust it out for Jack to see. “Anna loves this man. At this stage of their lives, they are all each other has left. Let her be with him,” I say. “Because if you don’t, you might just end up blaming yourself for that. And as Anna would say, life’s too short.”





48

Clementine

When Legs visited yesterday, I thought I was going to burst with all the stuff I had to tell her. It’s weird, not going to school together, but it’s great to have so much to talk about. I tell her about my new teacher, Mrs. Hubble, who is nearly as nice as Miss Weber, and my new friends, Billie and Scarlett and Pippa. What’s so good about Legs is that she wants to hear everything. She’s still my very best friend. She came to our apartment and we ate pizza and did each other’s hair and danced around while we watched Frozen. Then Mom helped us make orange and poppy-seed muffins.

Today, Mom and me go to Rosalind House. The people at Rosalind House must not have many visitors, because when I walk in the door, it’s like the man from the ice cream truck has showed up. Everyone grins like crazy. Angus is there and he gives Mom a kiss on the cheek when he thinks I’m not looking. It’s a little weird, but it makes Mom smile. And I want Mom to smile. Anyway, Angus is pretty nice.

Mom scuttles off to see the new manager lady, and I do an Irish dance for Gwen in the hall. I give Laurie a high five and May a kiss. Then I have to excuse myself because, actually, I don’t have all day.

Bert is in the parlor. “There you are!”

Bert looks up, blinks his yellow eyes, and after a million years, smiles. He needs to go to a dentist, but I don’t tell him this, because it would be rude. “Well, hello there, young lady.”

I guess Bert still doesn’t remember my name. And for the first time in ages, this makes me a bit sad. “I’m Clementine,” I say.

He nods.

I point to the chair next to him. “Is Myrna sitting there?”

“No. Would you like to sit down?”

“Yes. I’d like to talk to you about something.” I settle myself in the chair. “It’s about Myrna.”

Bert’s whiskery eyebrows shoot up. “Oh?”

“Well, it’s about Myrna and my daddy. You know how I’ve been talking to my dad sometimes, these last few months? Well it’s been good, but I think I need to stop now. You see, I’ve got all these other people to talk to, like my mom, Legs, and my other friends. So I probably should talk to them, since they’re alive and stuff. And I thought maybe you should stop talking to Myrna, too.”

Bert frowns.

“So,” I ask, “what do you think?”

It takes him a long time to answer.

“You’re very lucky to have all those people who love you,” he says finally. “Your mom and your friends. But the thing about me is that I don’t have a lot of people like that.”

“But you do.” In the very next chair, on the other side of Bert, is Gwen, so I lower my voice. “How about Gwen? If you’d just speak to her, you wouldn’t need to speak to Myrna.”

“I don’t need to speak to Myrna,” Bert says. His voice is quieter than it was a moment ago. “I want to. And I’m not willing to let her go. Maybe I’m a foolish old man, but”—he smiles—“I’m an old dog, it’s too late to start learning new tricks.”

I have no idea what he’s talking about—dogs and tricks—but I’m pretty sure he’s saying he wants to keep Myrna. I shrug. “Well, if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

I slide off the chair onto my feet. “In that case, I guess I’d better get going. Bye, Bert.”

“I hope I’ll see you again, young lady,” Bert calls after me.

When I turn back, Bert is giving me the biggest, brightest, crooked-toothed smile I’ve ever seen. If Myrna makes him feel like that, I decide, she can’t be such a bad thing.

“Clementine,” I say. “My name is Clementine.”

He smiles, nods, tells me he’ll try to remember that. And as I walk to the garden, I decide I want everyone to call me that from now on.

*

The sky looks like a huge white sheet. I can’t even remember the last time I saw blue sky. Out here in the garden, it’s cold and the snow drenches right through my shoes. I know I don’t have to be in the garden at Rosalind House when I talk to Dad, but there’s something about this garden that feels right, even with wet feet.