of papers in front of her were forms for the state that had a deadline. This kind of mess made her feel as if she had no control over anything. She’d just started making piles when Natalie Merchant’s voice rang out. Cass looked up. Yes, she thought. Music. And just like that, the papers in front of her seemed less of a chore.
But she heard Ella shouting to turn it down. Atta must have complained. Scooting back her chair, Cass was about to head upstairs when the phone rang. For a second, she just stared at it—the phone had not been her friend lately—but then she picked up.
“Hey, babe,” he said. “You didn’t answer your cell.”
She didn’t even know where it was. “It’s busy here today.” Outside, the wind was picking up. All around her, tree branches were waving, as if they, too, were trying to get her attention.
“How’s it going with the fund-raising?”
“Still just sitting with it. But I’m almost ready to start. Any minute. I can feel it.”
“That’s why I called. I just talked to Setara. Take a look at GoFundMe. She’s set up an account to help us raise money for the cameras we need for the Afghans.”
Cass tried to listen, and usually, she could file the Afghan Woman away, but Setara was with Ethan when Cass was not, in a place where danger was everywhere. The longer Ethan talked—explaining how a GoFundMe account could help her raise money for Howell—and although he never said it, the more she understood.
He was going back.
She could barely lift her foot to the next red-carpeted step. In the upstairs hall, Ella was putting clean towels into the armoire. Music was still coming from May’s room. Cass knocked and went in. May smiled—a huge smile.
“I don’t have to ask what you’re listening to,” Cass said. “Over and over again.” May was rocking back and forth. “Life is so sweet.”
Life is hard was the verse that stuck with Cass.
“I only understand half of what she’s saying, but it doesn’t matter. It’s her voice, the music, the piano, the way it builds. It lifts me up.” May closed her eyes.
And Cass closed hers, trying to hear what May heard. At first, she felt weighted to her spot by the plane that would carry Ethan back to Afghanistan and Howell’s empty bank account and the piles of paperwork. She did bruise easily … But as she listened, gradually she heard only the music and May’s humming and she began to sway and Cass thought how she’d like to turn the music up even louder and for one second, just one flash of chill on her skin, she thought she’d like to twirl around the room. But she opened her eyes and remembered where she was.
8
Ethan had been home a week. While he cleaned up after dinner, Cass read on the sofa. The light went off in the kitchen, and he said he’d be right back, but when she finished her chapter, he still wasn’t. At the door to the bedroom, she stopped. He was staring out the windows into the black worry of night.
“Ethan?”
“In Afghanistan, it’s already tomorrow,” he said, as if he could see it on the glass.
“You want to talk about it?”
He came over and put his arms around her, rubbing her cheek with his scratchy face. “Nothing to talk about,” he said, as she laughed.
“Hey, you want to go over to the bar?” she asked, sitting on the bed and slipping her shoes back on. “Hang out with Vee for a while?”
“And watch Singer drool over you?”
“He does not.”
“It’s Friday night. They’ll be packed. I think I’d rather stay here.”
“Well,” she said, kicking her shoes back off, “let’s watch a movie.”
After they settled on the sofa, Ethan, with the remote in one hand and her feet in the other, scrolled through the movies. Amour … Beasts of the Southern Wild … Doctor Zhivago …
“Life of Pi?” he said.
The titles flew by so fast she got dizzy. The Safety of Objects … Sabrina … The Secret Life of Words … And from there, her brain short-hopped to Setara. And then that was all she could see, as if Setara had materialized on the TV in front of them.
Ethan continued to click.
“So how is the Afghan Woman?”
“Setara’s good.” He raised his eyebrows and kept scrolling. “Thanks for asking.” When he got to the z’s, he looked at her as if to say What do you want from me?
“I wish,” she said, “that you would say her name in a way that doesn’t make her sound like some sort of goddess.”
“I don’t say her name that way. She’s my business partner.” But he leaned back, creating too much space between his body and her feet in his lap. And then he set her feet on the floor, collected his empty glass, and stood. He headed toward the kitchen but came back and leaned over her, placing his hands on the back of the sofa on either side of her. “You know you’re the only one for me. I bought some ice cream today. You want some?”
She shook her head and picked up the remote.
Not only was Setara out saving the world, but she’d had a baby, a little girl, in January. Which had stopped her not at all. She could do anything and everything. Cass squirmed. Most women seemed able to juggle being mothers as well as staying themselves, but Cass couldn’t imagine it. And because of Tidal Flats, she had tried to—tried to want children because Ethan did and tried to imagine herself as a mother. But if she ever had a baby, like Samson after his hair was cut, she’d lose her strength, the one good thing her mother had given her. Besides, a baby brought chaos, and she craved control. She just couldn’t see it.
The remote felt heavy in her hands. After a few seconds, she put it down and banged her half-full glass of merlot on the end table. She was being ridiculous about Setara. But when Ethan came back and reached for her feet on the floor, she held tight. He could not have her feet.
The next morning, in the early Saturday darkness, Cass picked up her mug of coffee, stuck her computer under her arm, and headed to the chairs in front of the French doors, which she cracked—creating a line of cool morning air she could feel, reminding her of the line of dark she could see under her childhood closet door and the line of light she saw when she was in the closet lying under her dresses.
Her fingers rested on the keyboard, but nothing happened. Inside her head, Howell was a mess. She stood. And then she saw it. Two lists—one that put her hopes and dreams for the Fates into order and one that brainstormed ideas to raise money to fuel her hopes and dreams. Everything would go on one of two documents. Get it all out of her and into order.
Ethan began to clank around the kitchen. She hadn’t heard him get up or get in the shower. When he came into the living room, he kissed the top of her head. He would spend the day with his photographs—editing, cataloging, printing.
She reached her hand up for his.
He
