Chapter Fifty-two
ON HER RELEASE from the hospital, Lacey spent a few days at the Skyview, until it was time for Eric to come home. She stood for three minutes on the front porch, waiting for the courage to open it. Then she got tired of waiting and opened it anyway, the adrenaline running so hot she could almost see the nerves blazing under her skin, and the house was empty.
Harry had been busy while she was gone. He’d brought in some young people—college-aged students and former students—to build a ramp from the driveway to the front door, and stained the wood and painted the railing to match the porch. He also brought over some orange chrysanthemums, and two purple curly-leaf cabbages in stone urns, one for either side of the front door.
“In May, you can replace them with geraniums,” he said.
“Stop giving me things,” she told him. They stood in the doorway between the cabbage urns, watching the road, waiting for Ella Dane and Eric. She’d seen those urns at Home Depot, seventy dollars each. “No more things. I don’t want anything from you.”
“How’s the baby?” Harry asked.
“You don’t have the right to ask me that.”
She had pictures of the baby in her wallet, yesterday’s ultrasounds. The lower part of his body was a blur of angles and loops, but Dr. Vlk assured her he wasn’t half octopus, he had tangled himself up in the umbilical cord in an entirely normal way.
“I had to protect my grandchildren,” Harry said.
“You can’t come to my house anymore. I can’t have you here.”
“I’ll be leaving soon.”
She’d seen CarolAnna’s car in Harry’s driveway. Was he selling and moving to Australia, as he’d said he wanted? She wouldn’t ask.
“I can’t file for custody,” Harry said, and Lacey’s mind whirled. Custody? Of whom? “But there’s a grandparent relationship, so I can get visitation. Floyd Miszlak’s working it out with Ms. MacAvoy.”
Theo Hall. “You’re not her grandfather.”
“Legally, I am. I adopted Lex when he was twelve.” Harry took a shivering breath, and Lacey turned away. “It’s my fault,” Harry said. “If I’d gotten the truth out of him, all those years ago . . .”
“I don’t think he knew it himself, until just then.”
“Ah, poor Lex. He never meant to hurt anyone. The things that happened in the house; he couldn’t have known what he was doing. It wasn’t really him.”
“Yes, it was,” Lacey said. “Drew was real, and he was really part of Lex. I don’t think Lex knew about it. Not consciously, anyway.” She hated that she had yielded to Harry’s pain, let herself be drawn into his future. “Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’m moving downtown. You won’t see me anymore.”
“Good.” Ella Dane’s car turned onto Forrester Lane. “They’re here,” Lacey said. She waited until Ella Dane parked, and then she walked, large and stately, belly first, down the ramp. Ella Dane popped the trunk and unfolded the wheelchair from it, like a magic trick, and she got Eric from the backseat into the chair as Lacey reached them.
They hadn’t mentioned Drew in the hospital. Eric had been unconscious, then heavily medicated, then more lightly medicated but worn out from the first stages of physical therapy. And there were always people watching and listening. Cops at first, then nurses. Two weeks, and they hadn’t said a word about it, and every day made the words harder to speak, the memories more distant and estranged. They had to talk about it—only once, but it had to be spoken. She wasn’t sure how to begin. He might not even remember.
“So,” she said, hands on hips, shaking her head in mock accusation, “this is an extreme way to get out of diaper duty, don’t you think?”
“Extreme?” Eric said. He laughed, winced, groaned.
“Some people might even call it lame,” Lacey said.
“Oh, Lacey!” Ella Dane said with reproach, but Eric and Lacey were both laughing now, Eric in light, painful syllables and Lacey effortfully, but it was better than nothing. “After what he did for you,” Ella Dane said.
“Look at this ramp; some of Harry’s students built it. He’s moving.”
“You know I’ll only need it for a couple of months,” Eric said. “Two more operations on the left ankle, and I’ll be on my feet again.”
“It’ll be good for the stroller after that. I’ll push you up to the door.”
“No, you won’t,” Eric said. He rolled from the driveway to the ramp, and Ella Dane took over from there. “Did you know I could hear you the whole time?” he said.