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  “Go ahead. I’m not sure how much talking I feel like doing, but I’ll listen.”

  Viv frowned at her food. “I feel bad that we haven’t been getting along too well since you got back. It seems like I’m always complaining about something you’ve done or haven’t done. Just like the day after the party when I was going on about you and Peter…” She eyed Edie. “By the way, last night, with Mom and everything, really changed my opinion about Peter. When Beth used to gush over him, I’d think it was just her, but I tell you, the next time Ray starts bitching about him, I’m going to tell him to shut the hell up. I like Peter. And you must feel like you’ve just won the lottery, huh?”

  “Oh…” Edie cast around for something innocuous to say, but her brain seemed to have frozen. And then, to her horror, the tears burst through, filling her throat and her nose, gushing from her eyes. For a moment she couldn’t breathe, she was crying so hard. She grabbed at a napkin, held it in front of her face and sobbed.

  “Edie.” Viv was beside her, an arm around her shoulders. “What is it? What’s going on? Is it Mom? She’ll be okay. The doctor said she’d need a walker for several months, but…is it Peter? Yes? No? Tell me, don’t keep it all bottled up. Come on…”

  She pushed more tissues into Edie’s hands. “We’ll go find somewhere quiet to sit. No? You want to stay here. Okay, you sit there and I’ll tell you what I was going to say. Is that okay? You want to hear it, or you want me to just shut up and leave you alone? No? Was that a shake or a nod? Here…” She reached across Edie for more napkins. “So anyway, I think what it all comes down to is I’m happy with my life. I mean, most of the time I feel like an okay person. And then you get home and everyone’s so impressed with everything you’ve done and I call Mom and it’s Edie this and Edie that and Edie makes her these delicious breakfasts…forget that I cook her breakfast every time she stays with us. And before long I’m feeling that I’m in high school again listening to everyone telling me that it’s a good thing I’m pretty, because Edie got all the brains and then I just felt like you didn’t really…respect my life. It wouldn’t be your kind of life even if you were living in Little Hills. But then I started thinking. I’m not dumb. I’ve never been dumb. I only feel dumb when Edie comes home, which is pretty dumb in itself, right? I mean, it’s not like I pop a dumb pill before I go to the airport to pick you up, so why do I feel dumb the minute you get in the car?”

  “Vivian…” Edie knew suddenly that the worst of the storm had passed. She dropped her hands from her face, turned to her sister and pulled her close. It was an awkward embrace, both of them twisted at the waist, her mouth in Vivian’s hair, but moments passed before she broke away. “I love you, Viv,” she said. “And don’t worry, I’m not going to get maudlin, but I just want you to know that. Now get back on your side of the table so I can drink my coffee, which probably got cold while you were blabbing away.”

  “I love you too, Eed,” Viv said when she was back in her seat again. “D’you feel better?”

  “I’m not sure.” Edie blew her nose into a napkin. “But I think I’ve lost about five pounds in water weight…”

  “Yeah, that would be your luck. You have a crying jag and lose five pounds, I have one pig-out on chocolate to feel better and gain five pounds.”

  “Thank you, Viv,” Edie said. “I really mean that.”

  Vivian shrugged. “I just yakked.”

  “No, you just confirmed something I’ve always known on some level but didn’t believe deep down.” She leaned across the table. “You don’t feel dumb unless I’m around and I don’t feel like a miserable excuse for a human being until I come back home… So what does that tell you?”

  Vivian grinned. “That it’s all Mom’s fault?”

  “Yeah, let’s just blame Mom.”

  “Poor little old Mom,” Vivian said. “Up there in surgery while her two miserable excuses for daughters bitch about her.”

  “Well, I do remember coming home from school with all A’s,” Edie said, “and Mom would hardly look at me. But you’d get a C and she was beside herself.” She saw something in Vivian’s eyes and another piece fell into place. “And I thought she was ignoring me because she didn’t like me.”

  “And I thought I was dumb, but she made excuses about my asthma just to make me feel better.”

  “But she did let me believe I killed Jim Morrison.”

  “Jim Morrison.” Vivian shook her head. “You’ve lost me.”

  “That lop-eared rabbit I had when I was fourteen.”

  “That was its name? I thought it was Elvis Presley.”

  “Oh please. Like I would name a sweet little rabbit after Elvis Presley.”

  “Well, I happened to like Elvis Presley,” Vivian said. “Anyway, what d’you mean you killed him? He was ancient when you got him. I remember Mom telling you not to get too attached because he probably wouldn’t be around for long.”

  Edie relayed the account Maude had given her.

  “But you were a kid, Edie. Either way, it’s so long ago. You can’t still feel guilty.”

  “Can you still feel dumb?”

  “Yeah.” Vivian nodded. “I see what you mean. So what do we do?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think just recognizing what’s going on is a good start.”

  “Here’s what we can do,” Viv said. “You keep reminding me that I’m not really dumb, and I tell you that you’re not condescending and sarcastic…” She met Edie’s eyes for a moment and they both started laughing. “Okay,” she said a moment later. “You’re not a miserable excuse for a human being.”

  “That’s a start,” Edie said. “But it’s going to take a while. We both need to really, really believe it deep inside to get rid of all the years we’ve believed the opposite. It’s like getting a red-wine stain out of a white tablecloth. You can wash it over and over, scrub at it, throw in some bleach. Eventually, it might fade so you can hardly see it anymore, but the stain’s never going to come out completely.”

  Viv was nodding, her expression thoughtful. And then, “When the hell have you ever laundered a white tablecloth, anyway?”

  “MOM CAME THROUGH the surgery just fine,” Edie told Beth later that afternoon when she dropped by the center. “She’s still groggy, but Viv’s with her. I grabbed a few hours’ sleep and I’ll go back there later so Viv can go home when the boys are out of school.”

  Beth nodded and Edie eyed the plate of cake and melting ice cream in her lap. Earlier, Beth had surprised one of the teen mothers with a birthday cake, a gesture that had caused the girl to break into tears because, she’d explained, nobody had ever made a cake for her before. In their heart-to-heart at the hospital earlier, Vivian hadn’t mentioned Brad or his pregnant girlfriend. How it would eventually turn out, Edie didn’t know, but she hoped the girl would find her way over to the center, just as Jessie had done.

  Which reminded her of why she’d stopped by to speak to Beth. “I want to help Jessie get back on her feet,” she said. “Financially, and whatever else I can do. I’m not sure about my long-term plans yet, but I want Jessie and Roger to have a home. Mom’s going to need help once she’s released from the hospital, and she likes Jessie.”

  “It’s mutual,” Beth said. “When Jessie dropped by yesterday, she couldn’t stop talking about how sweet Maude was and how grateful she was to both of you. And your mother seems to have really taken to Roger.” A moment passed and she reached over to touch Edie’s hand. “I hope you realize what a wonderful thing you’ve done for Jessie and the baby. Having someone to listen and care means so much. And you were there to do that.”

  Edie swallowed. “Don’t make me cry, Beth, because I haven’t finished talking business…” She smiled shakily. “One crying jag a day is more than enough. Anyway, the doctor said that Mom will need help once she’s discharged from the hospital. If Jessie would like to do that, I’ll pay her a salary. She and Roger can stay in my old room, where they are now, or Jessie could have a little a
partment nearby and come to the house every day. I’ll let her decide. If Maude needs more help than Jessie can provide, I’ll cover that, too.”

  “You’ve discussed this with Jessie?”

  “Not yet. I thought I’d talk to you first. But I’m pretty sure she’d agree to the plan. I just don’t want her to have any reason to go back to the abusive relationship she left.”

  Her face thoughtful, Beth leaned back in her seat. “Okay, we’ve taken care of Maude and we’ve taken care of Jessie and Roger. Now, what about Edie?”

  “Edie doesn’t know about Edie.” She exhaled. “But I still haven’t finished with business. Vivian’s son Brad may have got this girl pregnant—”

  “Melissa. She’s already been in to see me. Brad’s apparently not willing to take responsibility, but we’re working on that. Meanwhile, Melissa’s beginning to make some plans. She’s talking about adoption.” She smiled. “Now can we talk about Edie?”

  “If we talk about Beth first…and Sam O’Neil. When I last saw the two of you together, things looked very promising.”

  Beth scraped at the last of the cake, tossed the plate in the trash and smiled dreamily. “They are very promising.”

  “I want to hear all about it.”

  “Edie, I honestly never thought it would happen, but we just can’t seem to get enough of each other. We talk and talk, late into the night, about everything, but we never seem to run out of things to say to each other.”

  “That’s great, Beth. I’m very happy for you.”

  “I’m very happy for myself…but let’s talk about Edie.” She glanced beyond Edie’s shoulder and jumped up from her seat. “Uh-oh, what’s going on out there? Excuse me…”

  Alerted by something in Beth’s voice, Edie got up too and followed her out of the glass-enclosed cubicle and into the center’s main area. The normally noisy and hectic scene had frozen into a tableau, silent but for the wail of a baby. All around the room, clusters of girls stood, transfixed by the tall dark-haired kid in the flannel shirt with the gun in his hand.

  “Somebody better tell me where my son is,” he was saying. “Or I’m going to shoot this place up.”

  Edie felt the blood drain from her face. His son, she knew without a doubt, was Roger. Who, at this very moment, was probably sound asleep in her old bedroom.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  IN THE MOMENT before he walked into the teen mother center and into the point of a gun, Peter had been thinking about Edie. Wondering whether she’d slept and, if she had, whether she’d had a change of heart. He’d been thinking of Edie’s face; her amber eyes, her mouth. And then he’d walked into the center and seen a gun trained on that face. She’d been talking to the boy, her voice low and without inflection.

  “And I’m sure you must miss him,” she was saying as Peter entered the room. The boy with the gun had turned then, recognized him as the principal and pointed the gun.

  “You guys got my kid hid somewhere,” the boy said now. “My kid. I ain’t leaving till I get him back.”

  “Well, let’s see what we can do to help you.” Peter took a few steps forward, his brain searching for the boy’s name. Billy? Bobby? Something with a B and a Y. He took a chance. “Bobby, isn’t it?”

  The kid nodded. “You gonna tell me where my son is?”

  Peter looked from the gun to the boy’s face. Random thoughts and images zapped through his brain. He saw his daughters’ faces. He remembered that just last week in St. Louis, a disgruntled student had shot and killed his math teacher. He knew that if he turned his head slightly, he would see Edie’s shoulder. Edie, whom he half expected to, but hoped to God wouldn’t, step forward and demand the gun. He imagined that Edie was probably exercising great restraint right now. If the gun went off and left the girls without a father, he wondered whether Edie would step forward then.

  “I know you’re concerned about him,” Peter said. “I’m a father too, and I can’t even imagine what I’d do if I couldn’t see my daughters. What is your son’s name?”

  “Roger.”

  “And is Roger enrolled here at the center?”

  “Yeah, my girlfriend brings him. I ain’t seen him since she started playing games with me. I’ve had it with this crap.” He waved the gun. “I want my kid.”

  Peter moved a little closer. “How old is he?”

  The kid shrugged. “I dunno…six or seven months.”

  “Ah.” Peter smiled. “That’s an interesting time in a baby’s development. What can he do? Is he crawling yet?”

  “Yeah, kind of. He’s real smart. Jessie ain’t got no right to hide him from me.”

  “Jessie’s the baby’s mother?”

  “She’s playing some kind of goddamn—”

  “Jessie’s a student here at Luther?” Peter asked, raising his voice to be heard above a baby’s insistent wail. Others were joining in, a loud chorus in the otherwise silent room. Behind Bobby, girls were shooting frightened glances at the playpen, where three of the babies had pulled themselves upright. Tiny fists locked around the canvas support, they rocked and screamed, clamoring for attention. Peter nodded in the direction of Beth’s cubicle. “Would you like to find a quieter place to talk about this?”

  “Crying babies don’t bother me none.” Bobby kept the gun pointed. “Just tell me where my kid is and nobody’s gonna get hurt.”

  “It’s a good thing the screaming doesn’t bother you.” Peter wondered whether anyone had called for the police. He smiled at Bobby. “I imagine Roger’s a good baby, isn’t he? Doesn’t cry much?”

  “He’s tough,” the boy said, pride in his voice. “Just like his old man.”

  “Does Roger look like you?” Peter asked.

  “Carbon copy.”

  “Pictures in your wallet, I bet?”

  “Yeah, my mom’s always sticking a camera in his face. She wants him back, too. It’s not right, keeping her grandkid away from her.”

  Peter nodded. “No, I’m sure she misses him, too. Look, I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you, but I really want to help you.”

  The kid said nothing.

  “I mean that, Bobby.” Peter looked directly into the boy’s eyes. “Those aren’t empty words. I want you to believe me.”

  With his free hand, Bobby scratched the side of his neck.

  “Do you believe me?”

  “I don’t want no yak yak yak shit…”

  “You want your son, right?”

  Bobby nodded. His face had reddened. “I ain’t perfect, but I love my kid.”

  “I can tell.” Peter kept his eyes on the boy’s face. In the distance, he could hear sirens. He’d been listening for them, wanting to hear them, but they suddenly seemed less important than reaching this boy. “No one’s perfect, Bobby. When I was your age, I was far, far from perfect.” He held out his hand. “Do you want me to help you see your son again?”

  The boy scratched his neck again, and his chin crumpled. A moment passed and he nodded imperceptibly. Then he dropped the gun in Peter’s hand. Peter heard the sirens grow louder, then stop. He put his arm around the boy’s shoulder. By the time three uniformed officers burst into the room, he had walked Bobby into Beth’s office and they were talking in private.

  EDIE STOOD in Peter’s office with the door closed. His arms were wrapped around her and they were locked in a kiss that just went on and on. The knock on the door didn’t register at first. Dazed, Edie pulled away slightly to see the door open a foot or so. Then, like a hand puppet, Ray’s head appeared around the edge of the door, goggled and withdrew.

  Edie grinned at Peter and started laughing so hard she had to sit down. Looking amused himself, Peter scooped her up in his arms, sat down in the chair and deposited her in his lap. He kissed her again.

  “Your reputation’s shot now.” Edie giggled.

  “Au contraire. I think it will be enhanced. I can picture the headlines. ‘Lowly High School Principal Captures the Heart of Dashing Foreign Corresponden
t.’ People might have found that hard to believe, but Ray can now provide confirmation.”

  “Except if I stop being a foreign correspondent.”

  “The Asia job…”

  “I’m going to turn it down.”

  “I’m getting whiplash. Didn’t you just tell me—”

  “That I was going to take it? I know. I think I was so stressed out by Mom’s accident and no sleep, I just kind of fell back on it because it felt familiar, but it’s not what I want, Peter. I love you, I honestly do.”

  “Say it again.”

  “I love you.” She twisted around on his lap to see his face. “I feel kind of relieved now that I’ve made the decision. I really do think I’d like to teach. I know it’s going to mean going back to school—maybe I can do some freelancing to support myself, but it’s kind of exciting to be starting something new. Tomorrow, I’ll call—”

  “That’s tomorrow. Right now, I want to hear about the high-school principal capturing your heart.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  “Good. Because when I left you at the hospital yesterday, I wasn’t entirely convinced that a good night’s sleep would do the trick. I felt as though a little bit of my heart had been ripped out and it hurt like hell. I infinitely prefer having it captured.”

  “God, Peter.” She buried her face in his neck. “I was so terrified for you when that kid was waving the gun. I wanted to rip it out of his hand and tell him to knock it off because I had something very important to say to you.”

  “I know. I heard your voice when I walked into the room, and I thought the hardest part about this whole drama might be determining who would ultimately be the one to talk him down. I half expected you to step in at any moment.”

  “Trust me, I wanted to. But I could see that what you were saying to him was registering, so I restrained myself. What’s going to happen to him?”

  Peter sighed. “Well, brandishing a gun in a day-care center will obviously carry some consequences, especially since he’s already on probation. It might be some time before Bobby’s actually holding his son, but I promised I’d help him and I will. He’s like so many of the kids here. He just needs someone to care about him, to be on his side.”