for a service yet,” her father said, “but that it would probably be Monday.”
“I’ll go,” Lacey said into her fist. “I have to go.” She turned toward her father and saw that he looked tired and drained. The O’Neill family had become all too accustomed to coping with unexpected loss. “How’s Nola taking it?” she asked.
“She’s in a lot of pain, as you can imagine. I had trouble understanding her, she was crying so hard. Oh.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a piece of paper, handing it to her. “She left this number in case you wanted to call her,” he said.
Lacey took the piece of paper from his hand and stared at it numbly.
“I have to get back to the office, hon,” her father said. “I still have some appointments today, but I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”
“Thank you.” She knew he had done some major shuffling of his patients to be able to make the trip to Kiss River.
Her father turned his attention to Rick. “How do you know Lacey, Rick?” he asked.
“We met at her studio,” Rick said.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here.” Her father surprised her with the words. “I’m glad Lacey’s not alone right now.”
After Alec left, Rick began unwrapping the items they had bought. “I’ll return these things for you,” he said.
She glanced at the puzzles and pens without seeing them. “You don’t have to do that,” she said.
“I want to. I know there’s not a lot else I can do to help out right now.” He stood up and began digging through the trash can beneath the sink for the receipts. “I’d like to go with you to Arizona,” he said as he pawed through the trash.
“Thank you, but no.” She didn’t want him there. He would feel like more of a liability than an asset. She stood up, the piece of paper her father had given her in her hand. “I’m going up to my room to call Nola,” she said. “You don’t have to stay.”
He looked up from his work in the trash can. “Your father didn’t want you to be alone,” he said.
“I’ll be okay. Gina and Clay will be home soon. And I really just want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head.”
He put his hands in his pockets, worry on his face. “It’s not even four-thirty,” he said.
She shut her eyes, drained of energy to explain her need for time to herself. “I just want to go to bed,” she said, and it came out like a plea.
He nodded. “All right.” He slid the trash can back under the sink, then walked over to her and hugged her tightly, and all she could think about was having him leave so that she could fall apart in peace.
Once he was gone, she carried the cordless phone upstairs and crawled, still dressed in her blue T-shirt and striped capris, into her bed. A breeze billowed the sheer curtains into the room, but it was still too hot for more than a sheet. She pulled the box of tissues from the night table to her bed. Hugging her arms across her chest, she thought, Should I let myself break down before or after I talk to Nola?
Without making a decision, she dialed the number on the piece of paper. A woman with a quiet voice answered.
“I’m trying to reach Nola Dillard,” Lacey said. “This is Lacey O’Neill.”
Her name seemed to mean nothing to the woman. “Nola’s lying down,” she nearly whispered. “Can I have her call you when she gets up?”
“Yes, I’m calling from the east coast, but please tell her to call me any time,” Lacey said. “No matter what time it is here, all right?” She gave the woman her phone number and made her repeat it back to her. For once in her life, she wanted to talk to Nola Dillard. She needed to talk to someone else who loved Jessica.
Once she hung up the phone, her tears started. They lasted for five or six minutes, then faded away, and just when she thought she was done with them, she pictured Jessica’s smile and thought about the fear and disbelief Mackenzie was enduring, and her sobbing started again.
She’d long ago given up asking why things like this happened. Her mother had died from a bullet meant for someone else. Her sister-in-law, Terri—Clay’s first wife—had died while doing search-and-rescue work. The losses seemed so random, so meaningless—although once this past year, she’d wondered if her mother’s death had been fitting punishment for all the cheating she’d done during her marriage. If God existed, though, she refused to believe he worked that way.
She longed for the escape of sleep, but her nose was stuffy from crying and she could not prevent memories of Jessica from slipping into her consciousness. When they’d been very young, she and Jessica had been in Brownies together, with Lacey’s mother as their much-adored troop leader. Lacey could not count all the milk shakes and French fries they’d shared at McDonald’s over the years, or all the times she and Jessica had slept at one another’s houses. Jessica had changed dramatically during their time in middle school, when she’d become one of the “cool crowd,” leaving Lacey confused and envious, but after Mackenzie was born, she’d reverted quickly to the sweet person she’d once been.
She heard Gina and Rani come home, followed by Clay a half hour later, but she didn’t want to get up to talk to them. The only person she truly wanted to talk to was the person she could never talk to again: Jessica. Why hadn’t she gone to Arizona to visit her sometime in the past twelve years? She had taken their friendship for granted. She should have known better than that. Now she was finally going to Phoenix, just a little bit too late.
Someone knocked lightly on her bedroom door.
“You awake, Lace?” Clay asked.
“Yes.”
“Dad called to tell me,” he said. “Can I come in?”
“I want to be alone,” she said.
He hesitated a moment. “I’m sorry, sis,” he said, finally. “And I’m sorry for the things I said about Jessica yesterday.”
“It’s all right.” She pressed a damp, overused tissue to her eyes. “Clay?”
“Yes?”
“I love you. Please don’t die.”
She heard his soft laughter through the door. “I love you, too, Lacey,” he said. But he didn’t promise her anything. He knew better than that.
She did not sleep, did not even doze, the entire night. She lay with the box of tissues on the pillow next to her and the phone clutched in her hands, waiting for the return call from Nola. But the call never came, and it would be nearly noon the following day before she understood why.
11
LACEY DIDN’T GO INTO WORK AT THE ANIMAL hospital the next morning. It was Saturday, and the hospital would be packed with patients, but she knew her father would understand. Instead, she sat in her home studio trying to reach Nola and getting no answer to her calls, not even an outgoing message on an answering machine. She studied the piece of paper
