laughed. Jake’s father left when he was a baby, and she took a dim view of men in general, other than the brief infatuations at the start of her relationships. “With his wife and kids gone for the weekend? I bet he went out and painted the town.”
“I guess...” Jen said, more morosely than she meant to.
Tanya looked at her keenly. “Hey, I was kidding. Everything’s okay with you guys, isn’t it?”
“No, no, it’s fine. Just, you know, I wish he’d find something. It’s hard having him underfoot all the time.”
Tanya looked at her doubtfully, picking up the bottle. “Here, give me your glass.”
As Tanya topped off her wine, Jen couldn’t help thinking of the little slip of goldenrod notepaper Ted had tossed in the tray on his dresser along with his change. The feminine handwriting that wasn’t hers, the initials SEB in a curvy script at the top. On it, Sarah Elizabeth Baker had written Thx tons, Thursday 2pm Firehouse xoxoxo.
Sarah had been his assistant before he was laid off. She wasn’t gorgeous, but she had a knowing, sensual way about her that was hard to miss; she could make a Brooks Brothers blouse look like an invitation. At the Christmas party, when she’d had too much to drink, she’d kissed Ted on the mouth when she said goodbye.
None of which necessarily meant anything—except that Ted left Flores Martin months ago. And yes, for a while there was a weekly bundle of his mail, delivered with one of these little gold notes paper clipped on top.
But there hadn’t been mail from work in a long time.
Jen wondered if she could tell Tanya about Sarah. But Tanya would be too quick to turn on Ted, too quick to castigate him for crimes he might not have even committed.
So Jen drank her wine and changed the subject, and when the bottle was empty Tanya opened the second one, and they made a good dent in it before Jen finally turned the light out. They mumbled their good-nights just like all those years ago when they shared a bedroom and a bunk bed. Tanya was asleep in minutes, her breathing even and deep. Jen lay awake for a while despite the blurry wine buzz, thinking about Sarah and her glossy hair, the x’s and o’s at the bottom of her note.
When Jen finally slept, her nightmare had nothing to do with Sarah, or even Sid. She dreamed the red bird, its beak opening wider and wider, its screams ever louder, uncoiling and unfurling until there was nothing else.
Chapter Two
Livvy woke up shivering. Her shirt was wet against her back. Something cold had seeped into her sleeping bag, the room smelled like vomit and her head felt thick.
Faint light came from the hall at the top of the stairs, enough for her to make out the others, asleep in the basement rec room. Paige and Rachel and Collin. The girls were huddled in the sleeping bags Rachel got from the garage, and Collin was making do on the couch with a blanket from Rachel’s room. No one else was awake. Someone snored softly.
Livvy sat up groggily, peeling the damp sleeping bag from her skin. It smelled like stale beer—and there was the overturned plastic cup. Rachel must have set it down between them before she fell asleep. Livvy patted the floor; the spill hadn’t reached Rachel, only her. And soaked through the carpet. How were they going to clean it up before Rachel’s parents got back?
Not to mention where Collin had vomited, over by the TV. They’d gotten most of it up then, holding their breath and laughing. It had seemed funny last night. Livvy knew that he wasn’t the only one: Paige had thrown up behind the fraternity before they’d walked home from the party.
“Are you up?” It was Paige, whispering from her other side. They’d lined up on the floor, the three of them, just like they used to do in middle school when they fell asleep watching movies during sleepovers. “Let’s go upstairs.”
“Rachel spilled beer on my sleeping bag.”
“Eww. Leave it. Come on.”
They tiptoed upstairs to Rachel’s bedroom, sneaking through the house as if Mr. and Mrs. Crane were sleeping upstairs. But they weren’t even home; they had taken Rachel’s sister to some out-of-town tournament, leaving Rachel home by herself. She was supposed to be on the school ski trip—they all were. Instead they’d walked the half mile to the edge of campus, to Collin’s brother’s fraternity, where the party was still in full swing hours later when they left.
Paige flopped on Rachel’s bed. “Did you get it on you?”
“Just on my shirt.” Livvy pulled the shirt over her head. She got clean clothes out of the overnight bag she’d stowed in Rachel’s room last night. Her pajamas, yellow flannel with snowflakes, were still folded neatly at the bottom of the bag. She felt guilty as she pulled on her clothes; she could smell the fabric softener her mom used.
Paige yawned. “Did you end up talking to Sean?”
Livvy didn’t look at Paige. Even hearing his name, even that hurt. “A little,” she said, like she didn’t care. “They weren’t there long.”
“You looked so good last night. It must have killed him. Oh, my God, especially when that guy...remember?”
Paige laughed, still riding the giddy thrill of their lie. She’d told everyone they were freshman from Ann Arbor, visiting for the weekend. No one questioned it, not for a second. People flowed in and out of the fraternity, tracking snow in on their shoes, leaving the door open, standing around the keg on the back porch like it was summer. No one seemed cold. Rachel was gorgeous and Paige was fearless and Collin made them laugh, and Livvy kept to the center of them all, where no one seemed to expect her to talk. Just to dance, as the night wore on and she drank more and Paige convinced her to get up on the coffee table, and she’d shut her eyes and felt the music go through her and then when she opened them, there was Sean, standing in the doorway watching her with an expression she couldn’t read.
“Stay here. I’m going to go get us a couple Red Bulls,” Paige said, bounding off the bed.
“Okay.” Livvy crawled under the covers. Maybe she and Paige could sleep here a little longer. She wasn’t supposed to be home until after lunch. With any luck, when she got home she would go straight to her room and her parents would leave her alone for once. At dinner if they asked her about the skiing she’d just lie—no big deal.
Except the thing with her mom’s dad. Livvy squeezed her eyes shut and burrowed down deeper in Rachel’s bed. It was so weird, not to even know she had a grandfather, that he had been alive all this time. Then all of a sudden he was dead, and Mom was going up there with Aunt Tanya to get him cremated or something.
At least her mom would be distracted and maybe she wouldn’t ask her a million questions about the ski trip. But still. It was her mom’s dad. Her mom and Aunt Tanya had been really poor growing up and their mother died when they were in high school and they had to go live with relatives, and her mom never talked about it except to constantly say how grateful they should all be for their blessings. So her dad must have been a real dick, not even taking care of them when their mom died, but still, not to ever even mention him?
Paige came back with the drinks. She slid in next to Livvy, and they popped the tops and drank. “So, what did you say to Sean?”
Livvy shrugged. “I told him I heard Allie has herpes. Then he told me I didn’t know what I was missing, and I
