“I’m so sorry—it was the only dose we had.”
“It’s fine. You did the right thing.”
“Okay, well, I—oh! I just realized. I’m the one who drove Ethan here. How is he going to get home? Grace’s car is still at my son’s house.”
“She said her parents are coming to get them.”
“What about her husband?”
Sherrie was pumping the nurse for information, but everyone in the group was just as curious.
“She . . . didn’t mention her husband. Sorry.”
Amy knew he was probably still tied up at the event—he’d been giving a speech when they left and had other responsibilities there—but she couldn’t help but wonder if Grace’s omission had been due to some other reason as well.
Sherrie took a deep breath. “Well, I guess that’s that. Would it be okay . . . could I say goodbye to Ethan?”
“Mrs. Durant asked for privacy until her parents arrive. I’m sorry. I’m sure she’d be happy to speak to you tomorrow, though. She sounded very grateful for everything you’d done.”
“Oh. Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Well, thank you for all of your help. I’m glad he is going to be okay.”
She slipped on her coat and zipped it up, and the five of them filed out of the emergency room, hoping they’d left the evening’s drama behind them.
* * *
They got home just after 9:30. Bruce had fallen asleep in the family room arm chair and was snoring so loudly they could hear him as soon as they walked in the house.
“Do you see what I have to put up with?” Sherrie said. “Every night is like this. Every. Night.”
Dave laughed. “You need to invest in a good set of earplugs.”
“The plug that will block out that sound doesn’t exist. Trust me. I’ve tried. Eight pairs and counting.”
Rob squeezed Amy’s shoulder. “See what you have to look forward to?”
“If I were you, I’d pray for early deafness,” Sherrie said. She stopped at the threshold to the family room. “I mean, look at him. Look at him.”
Amy tried not to laugh but couldn’t help herself. Bruce’s arms dangled over the side of the chair, and his legs sprawled out before him, his nose pointed to the ceiling as his mouth hung wide open.
“God forbid Noah would need him for something. I mean, really.” Sherrie shook her head in disgust. She walked over to the chair and nudged him. “Bruce. Bruce!”
He shook awake with a snort. “What’s happening? Oh, you’re back. Is everything okay? Where is Ethan?”
“He’s still at the hospital under observation, but his mother is there with him now.”
“Oh, good.”
“Did everything go all right with Noah?” Amy asked.
“Sure did. He’s upstairs asleep. He was a little shaken up by all of the commotion, but he calmed down once they’d gone to the hospital. He’ll have a lot of questions for you tomorrow, though.”
“I’m sure.”
“Anyway.” He smacked his hands on his knees. “I think we’ve all had enough excitement for one evening. Sherrie? Shall we?”
He got up and grabbed his coat off one of the kitchen chairs. Sherrie went over and inspected the leftover brownies.
“Do you want these? I can’t even look at them without feeling queasy.”
“We actually didn’t eat dinner, so . . .” Amy surveyed her friends’ faces. They nodded. “Yeah, we’ll take them.”
They showed Bruce and Sherrie out, and Amy called in a pizza order while the other three dug into the brownies.
“Dessert before dinner,” Jess said as she inhaled an entire brownie. “We’re really living on the edge.”
“The pizza should be here in twenty minutes or so. Anyone want some wine?”
All three raised their hands. Amy got out four glasses and poured some Malbec into each. She brought the glasses to the kitchen table, where everyone was sitting, and leaned back in her chair.
“Well, I’m guessing this wasn’t what you expected when you bought your plane tickets, eh?”
Jess laughed. “No, but it’ll make for a great story.”
“I’m so sorry. This is not how I saw this evening going. We didn’t even find out if you won the Prada purse!”
Dave frowned. “You bid on a Prada purse?”
“And a case of soft pretzels. And maybe a mixology gift basket and a signed Eagles jersey . . .” Jess winced.
“I don’t even like the Eagles!” Dave protested.
“Hey—watch it,” said Rob.
“It was for charity.” Jess put on her cutest smile. Amy knew Dave wouldn’t be able to resist it.
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Dave took a sip of wine and shook his head. “Hopefully someone outbid you on at least one of those things.”
“I’m guessing Julian will let me know if you won anything,” Amy said. “I’ll call him and Grace tomorrow to check on Ethan.”
Jess reached for another brownie. “You said something at the hospital about Julian having some issues? What was all that about?”
Amy looked at Rob. On the one hand, Julian’s past wasn’t any of her friends’ business, but on the other, what did it matter if she told them? They’d probably never see him again. Jess and Dave also weren’t the types to spread gossip. Even if Dave talked to someone who’d known Julian in college, he was too polite to bring up Julian’s problems. That wasn’t his style.
“Promise not to say anything?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, so a year or so ago, Julian got into some trouble with pills.”
“Painkillers?”
Amy nodded. “I don’t know all of the details, but it got bad enough that his nonprofit started suffering. Grace found out, and he went into rehab, but they cut a lot of ties with friends in the process. Like Emily at our table tonight? They used to be really close, but now they barely talk to each other.”
“I thought something seemed off when she mentioned Grace,” Jess said.
“Exactly,” Amy said. “And apparently when things were bad, most of his staff either quit or were let go. That’s part of the reason I ended up doing so much to help with tonight’s event.”
“That and the fact that you are almost incapable of saying no.”
“True. But I think he was really hoping tonight would put Food Fight back on strong footing.”
“Speaking of footing . . . did you notice how he was swaying back and forth tonight during his speech? That was weird, right?”
Amy had wondered if anyone else had noticed besides her. She nodded.
“His speech was kind of all over the place, too,” Rob said. “Like, that whole thing about the whiskey? I thought he didn’t drink.”
“He doesn’t. Or at least that’s what Grace said. Maybe he was just really nervous, and that was a line to play it off.”
“Except it got even worse after that. When you went out to take my mom’s call? It was painful. Part of me was relieved when you pulled me out of the room.”
Amy looked at Jess and Dave. “That bad?”
Dave nodded. “Pretty bad. I mean, there was some really interesting information in there—possibly stuff you finessed this morning, I don’t know. But the delivery . . . it needed work.”
Amy wondered if everyone else was thinking what she was thinking. She was too afraid to say the words out loud. But from the looks on everyone’s faces, she realized she didn’t need to say anything. They were all on the same page.
“It’s just crazy to think that someone like that would have a problem,” Dave said.
Jess furrowed her brow. “Someone like what?”
“I guess . . . well, like in college, he was Mr. All American—athletic, smart, popular, engaged in campus issues. He wasn’t one of the guys getting obliterated at frat parties every weekend. I can’t even remember if he was in a frat. He just seemed so . . . I don’t know. Decent.”
Amy tried not to glare at him because she knew he didn’
t know better. He held the same prejudices a lot of people did about drug addicts—that they were usually degenerate or sleazy in some way, that they looked like the characters in Trainspotting or the bums walking the streets. As a teenager, Amy had held those preconceptions, too. But if her experience with Tim had taught her anything, it was that addiction was indiscriminate, and people from all different backgrounds—rich, poor, shy, outgoing, tough, weak—could become its next victim. Her reasons for distancing herself from Tim had nothing to do with a lack of decency on his part; it had more to do with emotional preservation on hers. Her brother wasn’t a bad person. Most days, she felt like the bad person for not contacting him.
“A lot of decent people have addictions,” she said. The doorbell rang. “I’ll tell you more about it over some pizza.”
* * *
The next morning, Grace called while Amy was driving her guests and family to Chestnut Hill. She’d arranged brunch at a cute café on Germantown Avenue so that Jess and Dave could see the quaint, cobblestoned section of northwest Philadelphia that was only about fifteen minutes from her house.
Amy debated whether or not to answer, but everyone in the car—including Noah—was desperate to know how Ethan was doing. As long as she was open about the fact that Grace would be on Bluetooth, for everyone to hear, she figured she had nothing to worry about.
“Grace?”
“Hi—am I catching you at a bad time? You sound like you’re in the car.”
“I am. You’re on Bluetooth.”
Jess, Dave, and Rob said, “Hi!” in unison.
“Oh. Hi.”
“Sorry,” Amy said. “We can talk later. I just wanted to answer to see how Ethan was doing.”
“Is he okay?” Noah called from the back seat. He’d been up a few times in the night with bad dreams about Ethan being sick. Amy hoped Grace could put his mind at ease.
“He’s much better today, thanks. The doctors said he wouldn’t be a hundred percent for a few days, but he’s so much better than he was last night.”
“We’re so glad to hear that. We’ve been worried about him.”
Amy had a dozen more questions she wanted to ask, but she figured she’d wait until Noah wasn’t within earshot.
“Will Ethan be allowed to play at my house again?” Noah asked. “I promise I won’t make him sick next time.”
Amy cast a sideways glance at Rob, whose eyes locked on hers. Oh, boy, they said.
“Oh, sweetie, of course,” Grace said. “It wasn’t your fault at all. We’ve had this happen at our own house. It’s no one’s fault. He has an allergy.”
“Okay,” Noah said. Amy couldn’t decide whether he sounded convinced or not.
“Anyway, I’ll let you guys go. Amy, we can talk another time. Oh, but before you go—in all of the commotion last night, your friends never found out they won some prizes.”
Amy caught Jess’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “You’re kidding.”
“Yeah, hang on.” She riffled through some papers. “Jessica Parrish won the case of soft pretzels, and . . .”
“The purse, the purse, the purse,” Jess whispered in the back seat.
“Oh, wow. The Prada purse.”
“YES!” Jess shrieked.
“That hurt my ears,” Noah said, placing his hands over them.
“Sorry. It’s just—yippee! I really wanted that purse.”
“Of which I have joint custody,” Amy added.
“Of course.”
“Joint custody of a purse?” Dave muttered.
“I think what you mean is ‘thank you.’ I won you enough carbs to satisfy every craving you’ve ever had.”
“Anyway,” Amy said, barely able to contain her smile, “we’re on our way to brunch now, but why don’t we swing by after to pick up the goods?”
“Oh. That would be . . . you don’t have to. I’ll just drop them off.”
“Don’t be silly. We’re out anyway. It’s a low lift for us to stop by on our way home.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. “Things are just a little . . . we aren’t really up for having guests. Ethan is still recovering.”
“We don’t have to come in. I could just pull in the driveway and you could hand the stuff through the window.”
“I guess that would work.” She paused. “Okay. Sure. Just make sure you call when you’re on your way so that I’m ready for you.”
“Will do. See you in a few hours.”
Amy hung up and wondered if it were her imagination, or if Grace sounded even more aloof than she had the night before.
* * *
“This is their house?” Dave’s eyes widened as they drove down the Sterling’s driveway. “Wow. Major upgrade from 120 Sycamore—not that there’s anything wrong with your place. It’s great. But it’s not . . . this.”
The paved drive curved past some sort of modern sculpture. “This isn’t the Durants’ place,” Amy said. “It’s Grace’s parents’. The Durants are living in the guesthouse.”
“Oh.” He peered out the window. “Sweet deal.”
“I don’t think it’s an ideal situation for any of them, but they had to sell the house, and this was pretty much the only option.”
Amy met Jess’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Jess nodded. Without knowing all of the details, she got the gist of the Durants’ circumstances, partially due to the conversation they’d had last night and partially due to the near-telepathic relationship she and Amy had after only a few days back together. Amy missed having a connection like that in her life.
She slowed the car as they approached the front of the house. Grace’s mother happened to be out front, surveying an arrangement of pumpkins and cornstalks on the portico. She squinted as she tried to peer through the passenger window from afar. Amy rolled down the window.
“Hi, I’m Grace’s friend, Amy.”
“Of course.” She had a slight, almost undetectable accent. “We’ve been expecting you.”
Amy tried not to look too surprised, but she wasn’t exactly sure why Grace’s mother knew anything about it. Grace hadn’t even picked up when Amy called en route to let her know they were on their way.
“Your friends’ prizes are inside. Let me get them.”
She hurried up the front steps. Moments later, she appeared with a small bag bearing the Philly Pretzel Factory logo, along with a shopping bag that presumably contained the purse. Amy popped the trunk.
“The pretzels are just a sample,” Grace’s mother said as she loaded everything in. “They will overnight a case of fresh ones to your house. You just have to contact the company and arrange it. The number is in the bag.”
She closed the trunk and came around to the passenger window.
“Grace sends her apologies. None of them is feeling one hundred percent today.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Amy said. “Send them our best. Tell Ethan we hope to see him at school next week.”
“Grace thinks he’ll be fine by tomorrow, but I keep telling her he should take it easy. The whole evening was quite an ordeal.” She turned to Rob. “Thank your mother again, will you? We are so grateful. I can’t believe Grace forgot the EpiPen.”
“It was a busy and stressful day,” Amy said. “I could see myself doing the same thing.”
“Anyway, thanks for coming by.” She craned her neck to get a view of Jess and Dave. “Congratulations on your prizes. I hope you enjoyed your visit.”
“We did,” Jess said. “I’m glad we could help Julian’s organization. They seem to do great work.”
“Yes, well. We think so. Are you staying the week?”
“No, we fly back to Seattle this afternoon. Amy is taking us to the airport in about an hour.”
“Ah. Safe travels, then.”
“Tell Ethan I say hi!” Noah shouted from the back seat.
Grace’s mother smiled as her eyes landed on him. “I will. He’s been talking about you, you know.”
“Wha
t did he say?”
“Just that he’s sorry he never got to finish building that Lego rocket ship with you.”
“He can come play another time and finish it.”
She smiled and looked at Amy. “He’s a very sweet boy. I’m not surprised they’re friends.”
“Ethan is very sweet, too,” Amy said.
“Yes, he is. It’s just such a shame about . . .” She caught herself. “Anyway, enjoy the remaining time with your friends. I’ll send Grace, Julian, and Ethan your regards.”
She walked up her front steps and turned around to wave goodbye, the expression on her face inscrutable.
Chapter 21
Jess and Dave left, and life for Amy and Rob returned to normal. By now, Rob had settled into his job, and Amy had gotten into a routine that revolved around her fluctuating freelance work and Noah’s schedule. She hated to admit it, but she actually missed the busy work that came with helping Julian plan his event. At least then she was regularly in touch with someone—either him or Grace or one of the community centers—and felt as if she were a part of something. With her freelance work, she felt disconnected from the organizations for which she was drafting grant proposals and editing program materials. The truth was, she was no more a part of Food Fight than she was a part of the Association of American Educators, but the face-to-face contact with Julian and Grace augmented her sense of belonging.
More than the professional engagement, though, Amy realized how much she missed Jess. It wasn’t only Jess (though she was the college friend with whom Amy had stayed the closest), but really any friend with whom she had a deep bond. Emily and Grace were great. But they weren’t the kind of friends she would cry in front of or discuss her deepest secrets—at least not yet. She’d thought maybe Grace could become that kind of friend, but ever since the fund-raiser, she had become increasingly withdrawn. She would be polite when they ran into each other, but at pickup she’d hurry Ethan out the door, even when the weather was nice and the other kids wanted to hang around to play. Combined with Jess’s departure, Amy felt lonelier than she had in a long time.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t Amy’s style to mope or wallow. The weeks went by, she kept her chin up, and life generally kept to its everyday rhythm. Noah still loved school and stood front and center in the Thanksgiving show Miss Ruth put together. From there, his attention turned to the Hanukkah show the school would be putting on for the parents before winter break. For Amy’s part, she couldn’t believe it was already December. It seemed like just yesterday it had been summer and they were moving into their new house. The year was flying by.
The Last House on Sycamore Street Page 25