“You’ll be okay. People will help—I will.”
“You’ll be almost two thousand miles away.”
“When you get back, then. You are coming back, right?”
“That’s the plan.”
Amy glanced at Noah, who was nibbling on a graham cracker and hanging on her every word, and gave him a thumbs-up. She had to be careful about what she said, but luckily Grace was doing most of the talking. She was grateful to Noah for being so patient. The snack helped, but she also suspected he was so distraught about Ethan’s departure that he was counting on her to figure out what was going on.
“How is Ethan doing?”
“I haven’t fully explained everything to him yet. For now, I’ve just told him that we’re taking a big vacation where it’s warm. I’ll get to the rest later. It’s kind of a lot for a four-year-old to understand.”
“Too much.”
“Exactly. It was bad enough when we were on the run from some sort of loan shark. At least he never picked up on what all that was about.”
“Whatever happened with that? Did Lev find Julian?”
“He must have. He hasn’t bothered me and Ethan, anyway. We’ve been staying in the main house with my parents, so maybe that’s why.”
“Do your parents know what’s going on?”
Grace sighed. “Mostly. They’re both furious, but my dad is off the charts. They’re kicking Julian out of the guesthouse.”
“Where will he go?”
“They’ve offered to pay for his rehab. At first he said he didn’t need their money, but then I think he realized he’s broke and the only way he’ll see Ethan again was if he goes, so I think he’ll accept the offer.”
“What about all the money from the fund-raiser?” Amy had been scouring the Internet lately for news stories about Food Fight and Julian. She hadn’t seen anything, but she hadn’t heard from Leroy Harris either. Part of her thought it was only a matter of days before Julian’s scandalous story was plastered across the web.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I mean, the money raised that night is gone—God only knows what he spent it on—but whether or not he can replace the money he stole? I’m not sure.”
“Could your parents help?”
“Maybe. It’s a big ask. I think they’re torn between wanting to hush up a scandal and wanting Julian to get slaughtered in the press. The news about Ethan’s trust fund really put my dad over the edge.”
“Mommyyyyyy. You’ve been talking for HOURS. Can I PLEASE talk to Ethan?”
Grace laughed. “I guess we’ve been talking too long, huh?”
“I guess.” The truth was, it hadn’t felt too long to Amy. It felt as if she was finally getting somewhere with Grace, who after all these months seemed to be opening up. She wished they could keep talking, but she knew Noah wouldn’t stand for it, and she couldn’t blame him. He’d been so patient.
“Want me to get Ethan?”
“Could you? Noah is dying to talk to him.”
“Sure. Hang on. Hey, Ethan?”
Amy could hear footsteps as Grace walked down some stairs.
“Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“Want to talk to Noah?” There was a loud squeal in the background. “Should we FaceTime?” Grace suggested.
Amy switched over to the video function and handed the phone to Noah. “Say hi to Ethan,” she prompted.
Noah grabbed the phone. His face lit up as Ethan appeared on the screen. “Uh . . . bello! Boo-chee boo-chee ya ya.”
Ethan replied saying something in Minion-ese. Under normal circumstances she might roll her eyes, but right now she was glad to see Noah happy again.
“Do you guys even speak to each other in English anymore?” Grace said in the background.
“Uh . . . si, si! Korabeedoo!”
The continued on like that, interjecting with the occasional “butt” or “poop” or “fart.”
“No potty talk, please,” Amy said.
“Sorry,” they said in unison.
Ethan made a silly face, and Noah laughed.
“Ethan, sweetie, we need to pack. Say goodbye to Noah.”
Noah’s smile faded, and his lower lip started trembling. “I don’t want you to go,” he whispered.
Ethan looked over his shoulder at Grace. “My mommy says we’ll come back soon.”
“In the spring,” she added.
Noah gazed up at Amy. She’d never seen him look so sad. “When is spring?”
“Like late April until June.”
“No, but how long from now.”
She mulled over the best way to answer. At four—even an advanced four—he didn’t have a sense of how long a month was.
“About three months. So like remember when you started school? From about then until now. That’s how long until Ethan will be back.”
The edges of his lips curved downward. “But that’s so long.”
“Not really. It’s shorter than the amount of time we’ve lived here. Shorter than the amount of time you’ve known him.”
“I guess.” He looked back at the screen. “Make sure you come back, okay? In the spring.”
Ethan nodded fervently. “I will. I’ll probably be as tall as my daddy by then.”
“Me too,” Noah said.
“And then we can reach the top of the trees with our HANDS, and we can jump up and climb up and FLY!”
“Yeah!” Noah yelled enthusiastically. “And we can do it again and again and AGAIN, and when we get tired we can just have some chocolate and then we can do it AGAIN!”
Amy and Grace threw their eyes upward and smiled.
“Ethan, sweetie, we really need to go,” Grace said.
He sighed. “Okay.”
“Bye, guys,” she said, waving. “Keep in touch.”
“We will,” Amy said. “Safe travels.”
She hung up, and immediately Noah burst into tears and buried his head in her chest. “It’s okay,” she said again and again. “It’s okay. He’ll be back.”
She thought about everything Grace must be going through—the upheaval of her life, the emotional turmoil. Did she have people she could talk to? Amy assumed she did. She had a friend in Austin she knew well enough that she could live with her for a few months. But Amy couldn’t stop thinking about Tim, about everything he was going through in the months before he died. She still believed calling him wouldn’t have changed the course of his life, but it might have made a difference, however small, in how he felt about himself, if only for a few minutes. Sometimes people just needed a reminder that you were there.
She pulled Noah close, breathing in the sweet smell of him. He was so fragile, more fragile than she’d ever realized, but also more emotionally intelligent and complex, in the most wonderful way. She used to think he would be such a good friend to someone someday, and here he was, at the tender age of four, already proving her right. How wonderful to be young, to be so openly vulnerable and innocent. In most instances, she and Rob were teaching him how to be more like a grown-up, to say please and thank you and hold his knife and fork properly. But today, today she wished she could be more like him. She wished she could be even half the friend to Grace that Noah was to Ethan.
She pulled out her phone again with one hand as she stroked Noah’s hair with the other. She wrote Grace a quick text:
I know I’m not an old friend and we don’t go back a long way, but I’m here if you ever need to talk.
She squeezed Noah tight and glanced down at the screen on her phone. The timestamp showed that Grace had read the message. She hadn’t replied, and Amy didn’t really expect her to. But that was okay. She knew. She knew Amy would be there, whenever she was ready, and for now, for right now, that was all that mattered.
Chapter 25
The week after Grace and Ethan left, Noah went into what Amy could only describe as a toddler depression. He didn’t want to go to school, didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to do much of anything. Amy hated seei
ng her newly sociable and gregarious son retreat, but Rob kept telling her it would pass, and she knew he was probably right.
In the meantime, she tried to keep the rest of Noah’s life as steady and predictable as possible. They visited Sherrie and Bruce for Sunday night dinners, made Noah’s favorite foods even if he didn’t eat them, and forced him to go to school, even when he resisted. After a few weeks, he began to perk up, and after a month he seemed like his normal self again. He still asked about Ethan, but the questions were less frequent. It reminded Amy of the way he used to ask for a sibling. The questions eventually just . . . petered out. She supposed that’s how he thought of Ethan—like a brother—only she suspected he’d never give up asking about Ethan entirely, and that was fine.
For now, she was just glad to see him happy playing with other kids in his class. All those worries she’d had about him making friends, all that anxiety about his intelligence—she realized now she was merely projecting her own lived experience onto him. But Noah wasn’t her. In a lot of ways, he was more self-aware than she’d ever been. He was a great kid, and he’d be just fine. He didn’t need her getting in the way.
One day at pickup, she peered through the door and saw him playing a board game with Jake. Amy had noticed how much closer the two of them had gotten without Ethan in the mix. Now that no one was competing for Ethan’s affections, they could develop a friendship on their own terms.
“Are they cute or what?”
Amy turned around and saw Emily peering over her shoulder. She smiled. “The cutest.”
“We’d love to have another playdate. I promise no hissy fits this time. What am I saying? I can’t promise that. Jake is . . . well, they’re all capricious little dictators, aren’t they? But I’ve noticed a change in him lately. He seems a little more reasonable—I’m talking fractions here, but nevertheless. It’s a positive development.”
“Kids change. Thank God.”
“Thank God.” Emily laughed, then turned more serious. “I wonder if any of it has to do with the Durants moving. Don’t you think it was sort of odd how they just . . . disappeared?”
“I think Grace needed a change.” She wasn’t sure how much Emily knew about the Durants’ situation, including the separation, so she didn’t want to disclose too much.
“Maybe. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. ‘Disappearing’ is sort of Grace’s MO.”
Amy studied Emily’s face. She knew it wasn’t her place to share Grace’s business, but at the same time, she didn’t think it was fair to either Emily or Grace for Emily to go around thinking that she’d done something wrong or telling people Grace simply “disappeared” on people as a matter of course.
“You know . . . when you and Grace fell out . . . it wasn’t because of anything you’d done,” Amy said.
Emily stared at her. “You guys talked about me?”
“No, no—sorry, not at all. I just meant... I know Grace was going through some tough times back then, and I think she sort of cut herself off from everyone.”
“You mean like she’s doing now?”
“When you put it that way . . . yeah, I guess.”
“What’s so tough about being Grace? She’s gorgeous and popular, her husband is smoking hot, her parents are loaded. If that’s tough . . . I’ll take it.”
“Things aren’t always what they seem.”
Emily raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth, as if she were about to say something, but before she could, Noah and Jake burst out of the classroom and threw their arms around their respective mothers’ legs.
“I’m starving,” Noah whined. “Can we go home for a snack?”
“Sure.” She looked back at Emily. “Let’s be in touch about that playdate. We’d love to get together.”
Then she zipped Noah’s coat, gathered his things, and led him out of the building.
* * *
The first thing Amy saw when she got online the next day was a big and bold headline on Philly.com:
LOCAL FOOD NONPROFIT SHUTS DOWN AFTER
BENEFIT FUNDS GO MISSING
She clicked on the link, and sure enough, it was an article about Food Fight. Leroy Harris had made good on his threats to go to the press, who proceeded to investigate Julian and his organization. The reporter not only uncovered the story of the embezzled fund-raiser money, she also found that Julian had stolen from the general Food Fight coffers as well, which is why he’d needed to fire most of his staff. He’d managed to fill the gap with a mixture of donor and “personal” funds (Amy wondered if some of this was from the house sale or Ethan’s trust fund), but in the end it wasn’t enough to save the organization, especially when the dishonest behavior continued. The reporter also laid out Julian’s problems with addiction, citing several anonymous sources. Had Grace been one?
Further down in the article, Grace’s parents were quoted:
“We are shocked and saddened to hear about Julian’s deceitful behavior. What he has done is inexcusable, and the beneficiaries of Food Fight’s services deserved better. We are glad to hear that he is currently in a rehabilitation program getting the help he needs and will pray for him in his recovery.”
The article went on to say that the Sterlings would make good on the money raised at the benefit and would compensate the community groups directly. Amy had to admit, it was a shrewd move. Julian got shamed publicly, which is what they wanted, but they also came off as the heroes. Amy wondered how Grace would feel about the situation. She was probably glad she was far away from it all in Texas.
When she’d reached the bottom of the article, her phone rang. It was Rob.
“Did you see the news about Food Fight?”
“I’m reading it right now.”
“Nothing we didn’t already know, but yikes. What a mess.”
“At least the community groups will get their money,” Amy said. “That’s a silver lining.”
“True. Although it still makes me mad when I think about the fact that the money we spent on tickets and everything was ultimately used to buy drugs or pay off drug debts.”
“I know. But nothing we can do about that now. At least he’s in a program.”
“Do you think it’ll actually work?”
Amy thought about it. If she were to draw from her experience with Tim, she would say probably not. This was Julian’s second time in rehab, and he was essentially being forced by his in-laws. But Julian had a son—he had someone to live for. Maybe that would make a difference. She knew there would be all sorts of forces working against him, but in her heart she wanted to believe that Julian would do whatever it took to get better. Even if when it got hard, even when he wanted nothing more than to take another pill, he wouldn’t because he had a boy, a gorgeous little boy who loved and missed and needed him. Maybe that wouldn’t be enough—maybe nothing would—but Amy held on to the thought that Julian’s story didn’t have to end like Tim’s. There was still time for him to write his own ending. He just needed to keep his pen on the paper.
“Yes,” she said, because even if she wasn’t certain, even if she had her doubts, she realized if Tim’s death had taught her anything, it was that she’d rather hold on to hope than fear.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
“Noah—slow down!”
Amy chased Noah down the walking path as he bolted for the playground. It was early June, and Ethan and Grace had just come back from Texas, two months later than expected. The delay had caused some consternation in the Kravitz household, mostly on Amy’s part as she worried that maybe Grace and Ethan would stay in Texas for good. But they’d stayed only so that Ethan could finish the preschool he’d enrolled in there before they moved back. They’d just arrived two days ago, and as soon as they did, Grace had called to set up a playdate.
“You guys up for the park?” she’d asked.
“Like you even need to ask.”
“See you there at noon?”
“It’s a date.”
She
and Grace had kept in touch over the past six months, mostly over e-mail. Initially, they hadn’t delved into the thorny subjects of rehab and marital separation, but gradually Grace started to open up about her sense of betrayal (Julian had lied about things other than money and drugs, including an affair with a coworker). Amy imagined this was easier to do in writing, rather than over the phone, and she knew how therapeutic it could be to simply write things down. Sometimes she felt as if she were reading pages from Grace’s diary, but she always made sure to respond, so that Grace would know she was listening. They didn’t e-mail every day or even every week, but they were in touch enough that they generally knew what was going on in each other’s lives.
“It’s like you’re long-distance dating,” Rob had joked.
Amy had to admit, it felt that way sometimes. The problem with long-distance relationships, of course, was that when people were finally in the same city, the relationship often fell apart. She hoped that when they met in person, they’d be able to pick up where they’d left off in cyberspace.
Noah arrived at the playground and looked around. “Where is he? I don’t see him.”
“He’ll be here. We’re a minute or two early.”
They were actually more like ten minutes early, mostly because she’d run out of ways to tell Noah it wasn’t time to leave yet. He was beside himself with happiness when she’d said they were seeing Ethan today. He woke up an hour earlier than normal and had been asking to leave since 7:30 a.m.
Noah climbed to the top of one of the climbing frames, and as he stared out over the park, he let out a yelp.
“ETHAN!!!!!!” He waved his arms animatedly.
“Noah, be careful, you’re going to fall.”
“No, I’m not!” He climbed down and bounded across the playground toward the parking lot.
The Last House on Sycamore Street Page 30