She cocked her head to one side and said, "Come on in, sit down. Jeez you're definitely a Day, huh? That fire-red hair, always loved it."

As soon as we sat down three squat-leg poodles came running in, collars jangling like sleigh bells, and clambered up on her lap. I tensed.

"Oh crap, you are definitely definitely a Day," she cackled. "Ben was always all jumpy around dogs too. Course the ones I used to have were bigger than these babies." She let the dogs lick at her fingers, pink tongues flashing in and out. "So, a Day," she cackled. "Ben was always all jumpy around dogs too. Course the ones I used to have were bigger than these babies." She let the dogs lick at her fingers, pink tongues flashing in and out. "So, Libby," Libby," she began, like my name, my existence was an inside joke, "did Ben tell you where to find me? Tell me the truth." she began, like my name, my existence was an inside joke, "did Ben tell you where to find me? Tell me the truth."

"I found you from something Trey Teepano said."

"Trey? Jesus. How'd you get to Trey Teepano?"

"He has a feed store, in the yellow pages."

"A feed store. Wouldn't have called that one. How's he look by the way?"

I nodded enthusiastically-he looks good-before I caught myself. Then said: "You were with Ben that night."

"Mmmm-hmmm. I was." She searched my face, wary but interested.

"I want to know what happened."

"Why?" she asked.

"Why?"

"Sorry, Miss Libby, this is all so out of the blue. Ben say something to you? I mean, why'd you come looking for me now? Why now?"

"I need to know for sure what happened."

"Oh, Libby. Ohhh." She gave me a sympathetic look. "Ben is OK taking the time for what happened that night. He wants to take the time. Let him."

"Did he kill my family?"

"That's why you're here?"

"Did Ben kill my family?"

She just smiled at me, those ridgeless lips staying rigid.

"I need some peace, Diondra, please. Just tell me."

"Libby, this is about peace, then? You think you know the answer, you're going to find peace? Like knowing is somehow going to fix you? You think after what happened there's any peace for you, sweetheart? How about this. Instead of asking yourself what happened, just accept that it happened. Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the Serenity Prayer. It's helped me a lot."

"Just say it, Diondra, just tell me. Then I'll try to accept."

The sun was setting, hitting us through the rear window now, making me blink with the brightness. She leaned toward me, took both my hands.

"Libby, I'm so sorry. I just don't know. I was with Ben that night. We were going to leave town. I was pregnant with his baby. We were going to run away. He was going to his house, to get some money. An hour goes by, two hours, three hours. I'm thinking he's lost his nerve. I finally cried myself to sleep. The next morning, I heard what happened. At first I thought he was killed too. Then I hear, no, he's in custody and police think he's part of some coven-a satanic, Charles Mansontype clan they're looking for. I'm waiting for a knock at my my door. But nothing happens. Days go by, and I hear Ben has no alibi, he hasn't mentioned me at all. He's protecting me." door. But nothing happens. Days go by, and I hear Ben has no alibi, he hasn't mentioned me at all. He's protecting me."

"All these years."

"All these years, yes. The cops were never satisfied it was just Ben. They wanted more. Looks better. But Ben never said a word. He's my goddam hero."

"So no one knows what happened that night. I'm never, ever going to find out." I felt a strange relief, saying it aloud. I could quit now, maybe. If I could never, ever know, then maybe I could quit.

"I do think you could find some peace, if you accept that. I mean, Libby, I don't think Ben did it. I think he's protecting your daddy, is what I think. But who knows? I hate to say this, but whatever happened that night, Ben needed to be in prison. He even says so. He had something inside him that wasn't right for the outside world. A violence. He does so much better in prison. He's very popular in there. He penpals with all these women, the women are so crazy about him. He gets a dozen proposals of marriage a year. Every once in a while, he thinks he wants back outside. But he doesn't."

"How do you know this?"

"We keep in touch," she snapped, then smiled sugar. The yellow-orange light of the sunset rayed across her chin, her eyes suddenly in the dark.

"Where's the baby, Diondra? The baby you were pregnant with?"

"I'm here," said the Day Girl.

Ben Day

JANUARY 3, 1985

1:11 A.M.

Ben opened the door into the dark living room and thought, home. Like a hero-sailor returning after months at sea. He almost shut the door on Diondra-can't catch me-but let her in because. Because he was scared what would happen if he didn't. It was a relief at least they left Trey behind. He didn't want Trey walking through his home, making his smart-ass remarks about things Ben already knew were embarrassing.

Everyone was asleep now, the whole house doing a collective breath-in-breath-out. He wanted to wake his mom, willed her to turn around the corner, blurry eyed in one of her clothes cocoons, and ask him where in the world he had been, what in the world had possessed him what in the world had possessed him?

The Devil. The Devil possessed me, Mom.

He didn't want to go anywhere with Diondra, but she was behind him, rage fuming off her body like heat, eyes wide-hurry up, hurry up-and so he started to quietly sift through the cabinets, looking in his mom's hiding places for cash. In the first cabinet, he found an old box of wheat flakes, opened it up, and swallowed as much as he could of the dry cereal, the flakes sticking to his lips and throat, making him cough just a little, a baby cough. Then he stuck his whole hand in and grabbed the flakes by the fistful, jamming them into his mouth, and opened the fridge to find a Tupperware container packed with diced peas and carrots, a skin of butter on top, and he stuck a spoon in them, put his lip to the plastic rim and shoveled it all in his mouth, peas rolling down his chest, onto the floor.

"Come on!" Diondra hissed. He was still in her purple sweats; she was in nice new jeans, a red sweater and the black menswear shoes she liked, except her feet were so big they were actually men's shoes. She did not like this acknowledged. Now she was tapping one. Come on, come on.

"Let's go to my room," he said. "I definitely have money there. And a present for you." Diondra brightened at that-even now, her eyes blinkering on and off, swaying with the drugs and liquor, she was distracted by presents.

The lock to his room was snapped off, and Ben got pissed, then worried. Mom or police? Not that there was anything to find. But still. He opened the door, flipped on the light, Diondra closing the door behind him and settling on the bed. She was talking, talking, talking, but he wasn't listening, and then she was crying and so he stopped his packing and lay down next to her. He smoothed back her hair, and rubbed her belly and tried to keep her quiet, tried to mutter soothing stuff, talking about how great their life was going to be together and more lies like that. It was a good half-hour before she calmed down. And she'd been the one telling him to hurry up. Classic.

He got back up, looking at the clock, wanting to get out of here if they were really going to get out. The door had opened a crack and he didn't even stop to go close it, wanted it open, the danger making him move faster. He threw jeans and sweaters in a gym bag, along with his notebook filled with girls' names he'd like for the baby-he still thought Krissi Day was the leader in that, that was a good name, Krissi Day. Krissi Patricia Day or else, after Diane, Krissi Diane Day. He liked that because then her friends could call her D-Day, it'd be cool. He'd have to fight Diondra though, she thought all his names were too plain. She wanted names like Ambrosia and Calliope and Nightingale.

Gym bag on his shoulder, he reached into the back of his desk drawer and pulled out his hidden cash pile. He'd been tucking away fives and tens here and there, had convinced himself he had three hundred, four hundred dollars, but now he saw he had not quite a hundred. He jammed it in his pocket, got down on his hands and knees to reach under his bed, and saw only space where the bag of clothes had been. His daughter's clothes.

"Where's my present?" Diondra said, a guttural sound because she was lying flat on her back, her belly aimed up, belligerent, like a middle finger.

Ben lifted his head, looked at her, the smeared lipstick and dripping-black eyes, and thought she looked like a monster. "I can't find it," he said.

"What do you mean, can't find it?"

"I don't, someone's been in here."

They both stood in the glare of his single lightbulb, not knowing what to do next.

"You think it was one of your sisters?"

"Maybe. Michelle is always nosing around in here. Plus I don't have as much money as I thought I did."

Diondra sat up, grabbing her belly, which she never did affectionately, protectively. She clutched it like it was a burden he was too stupid to offer to carry. She was holding it now, out at him, and saying, "You are the father of this goddam baby, so you better think of something fast, you are the one who got me pregnant, so you better fix this. I am almost seven months pregnant, I could have a baby any day now, and you-"

A flicker at the door, just a swipe of nightgown, and then a foot jutting out, trying to keep balance. An accidental bump and the door swung wide. Michelle had been hovering in the hallway, trying to eavesdrop, until she leaned in too far and her whole moony face popped into sight, those big glasses reflecting twin squares of light. She was holding her new diary, a dribble of pen ink coming from her mouth.

Michelle looked from Ben to Diondra, and then pointedly down at Diondra's belly, and said, "Ben got a girl pregnant. I knew it!"

Ben couldn't see her eyes, just the light on the glasses and the smile beneath.

"Have you told Mom?" Michelle asked, getting giddy, her voice a goading hint. "Should I go tell Mom?"

Ben was about to reach for her, jam her back into bed with a threat of his own, when Diondra lunged. Michelle tried to make it to the door, but Diondra got her hair, that long brown hair, and yanked her to the ground, Michelle landing hard on her tailbone, Diondra whispering not a word, you little cunt not a fucking word, not a word, you little cunt not a fucking word, and then Michelle twisted away, pushing against the walls with slippered feet, leaving Diondra holding a clutch of hair, which she threw onto the floor, going after Michelle, and if Michelle had only run for Mom's room it may have been all right, Mom would take care of it all, but instead she went straight for her own room, the girls' room, and Diondra followed, Ben trailing her, whispering and then Michelle twisted away, pushing against the walls with slippered feet, leaving Diondra holding a clutch of hair, which she threw onto the floor, going after Michelle, and if Michelle had only run for Mom's room it may have been all right, Mom would take care of it all, but instead she went straight for her own room, the girls' room, and Diondra followed, Ben trailing her, whispering Diondra, stop, Diondra let it go Diondra, stop, Diondra let it go. But Diondra was not going to let it go, she walked over to Michelle's bed where Michelle was cowering against the wall, whimpering, and she yanked Michelle down by a leg, straightened her out on the bed and sat on her, You want to tell the world I'm pregnant, that your plan, one of your little schemes, some fucking little secret you sell for fifty cents, tell your mommy, guess what I know? I don't think so you little shit, why is this whole family so stupid, You want to tell the world I'm pregnant, that your plan, one of your little schemes, some fucking little secret you sell for fifty cents, tell your mommy, guess what I know? I don't think so you little shit, why is this whole family so stupid, and she wrapped her hands around Michelle's neck, Michelle's feet, cased in slippers that were supposed to look like puppy feet, kicking up and down, Ben watching the feet, disconnected, thinking they really did look like puppy feet, and then Debby slowly waking from her zombie sleep so Ben closed the door, instead of opening it wide, calling for his mom, he wanted everything to stay quiet, no other instinct than to stick to the plan which is don't wake anyone up, and he was trying to reason with Diondra, thinking it would all be OK, and she wrapped her hands around Michelle's neck, Michelle's feet, cased in slippers that were supposed to look like puppy feet, kicking up and down, Ben watching the feet, disconnected, thinking they really did look like puppy feet, and then Debby slowly waking from her zombie sleep so Ben closed the door, instead of opening it wide, calling for his mom, he wanted everything to stay quiet, no other instinct than to stick to the plan which is don't wake anyone up, and he was trying to reason with Diondra, thinking it would all be OK, Diondra, Diondra, calm down, she won't tell, let her go Diondra, Diondra, calm down, she won't tell, let her go and Diondra leaning deeper onto Michelle's neck, and Diondra leaning deeper onto Michelle's neck, You think I'm gonna spend my life worried about this little bitch, You think I'm gonna spend my life worried about this little bitch, and Michelle scratching, then stabbing Diondra's hand with her pen, a glint of blood, Diondra letting go for a second, looking surprised, looking like she just couldn't believe it and Michelle leaned to one side and gulped air and Diondra just grabbed her neck again, and Ben put his hands on Diondra's shoulders to pull her off but instead they just rested there. and Michelle scratching, then stabbing Diondra's hand with her pen, a glint of blood, Diondra letting go for a second, looking surprised, looking like she just couldn't believe it and Michelle leaned to one side and gulped air and Diondra just grabbed her neck again, and Ben put his hands on Diondra's shoulders to pull her off but instead they just rested there.

Libby Day

NOW

The Day Girl was slender, almost tall, and as she came into the room, she showed me a face that was virtually mine. She had our red hair too, dyed brown, but the red roots were peeking out just like mine had days before. Her height must have come from Diondra, but her face was pure us, me, Ben, my mom. She gawked at me, then shook her head.

"Sorry, that was weird," she said, blushed. Her skin was dusted with our family freckles. "I didn't know. I mean, I guess it makes sense we look alike, but. Wow." She looked at her mom, then back at me, at my hands, at her hands, at my missing finger. "I'm Crystal. I'm your niece."

I felt like I should hug her, and I wanted to. We shook hands.

The girl wavered near us, twisting her arms around each other like a braid, still glancing sideways at me, the way you glimpse yourself in the glass of a storefront as you walk past, trying to catch a look at yourself without anyone noticing.

"I told you it would happen if it was meant to, sweetheart," Diondra said. "So here she is. Come here, sit down."

The girl tumbled lazily onto her mother, pushing herself into the crook of Diondra's arm, her cheek on her mother's shoulder, Diondra playing with a strand of the red/brown hair. She looked at me from that vantage point. Protected.

"I can't believe I finally get to meet you," she said. "I was never supposed to get to meet you. I'm a secret, you know." She glanced up at her mom. "A secret love child, right?"

"That's right," Diondra said.

So the girl knew who she was, who the Days were, that her father was Ben Day. I was stunned that Diondra trusted her daughter to know this, to keep the secret close, not seek me out. I wondered how long Crystal had known, if she'd ever driven past my house, just to see, just to see. I wondered why Diondra would tell her daughter such a horrible truth, when she didn't really need to.

Diondra must have caught my train of thoughts. "It's OK," she said. "Crystal knows the whole story. I tell her everything. We're best friends."

Her daughter nodded. "I even have a little scrapbook of photos of you all. Well, just that I clipped out of magazines and stuff. It's like a fake family album. I always wanted to meet you. Should I call you Aunt Libby? Is that weird? That's too weird."

I couldn't think what to say. I just felt a relief. The Days weren't quite dying out yet. They were in fact flourishing, with this pretty, tall girl who looked like me but with all her fingers and toes and without my nightmare brain. I wanted to ask a flood of nosy questions: Did she have weak eyes, like Michelle? Was she allergic to strawberries like my mom? Did she have sweet blood, like Debby, get eaten alive by mosquitos, spend the summer stinking of CamphoPhenique? Did she have a temper, like me, a distance like Ben? Was she manipulative and guiltless like Runner? What was she like, what was she like, tell me the many ways she was like the Days, and remind me of how we were.

"I read your book too," Crystal added. "A Brand New Day "A Brand New Day. It was really good. I wanted to tell someone I knew you because, you know, I was proud." Her voice lilted like a flute, as if she was perpetually on the verge of laughter.

"Oh, thanks."

"You OK, Libby?" Diondra said.

"Um, I guess, I guess I still just don't understand why you all stayed secret for so long. Why you have Ben still swearing he doesn't know you. I mean, I'm assuming he's never even met his daughter."

Crystal was shaking her head no. "I'd love to meet him though. He's my hero. He's protected my mom, me, all these years."

"We really need you to keep this secret for us, Libby," Diondra said. "We're really hoping you do. I just can't risk it, that they think I was an accomplice or something. I can't risk that. For Crystal."

"I just don't think there's a need for that-"

"Please?" Crystal said. Her voice was simple, but urgent. "Please. I seriously can't stand the idea that they can come any minute and take my mom away from me. She's really my best friend."

So they'd both said. I almost rolled my eyes but saw the girl was on the edge of tears. So she was actually frightened of this specter Diondra had created: the vengeful bogeymen cops who might bust in and take Mommy away. I just bet Diondra was her best friend. All these years, they lived in a two-person pod. Secret. Gotta stay secret for Mommy.

"So you ran away and never told your folks?"

"I left right when I was really starting to show," Diondra said. "My parents were maniacs. I was happy to be rid of them. It was just our secret, the baby, Ben and mine."

A secret in the Day house, how unusual. Michelle finally missed a scoop.

"You're smiling." Crystal said, a matching small smile on her lips.

"Ha, I was just thinking how much my sister Michelle would have loved getting her hands on that bit of gossip. She loved drama."

They looked like I slapped them.

"I wasn't trying to make light, sorry," I said.

"Oh, no, no don't worry about it," Diondra said. We all stared at each other, fingers and hands and feet wiggling about. Diondra broke the silence: "Would you like to stay for dinner, Libby?"

SHE FED ME a salty pot roast that I tried to swallow and a lot of pink wine from a box that seemed to have no bottom. We didn't sip, we drank. My kind of women. We talked about silly things, stories about my brother, with Crystal layering on questions I felt embarrassed I couldn't answer: Did Ben like rock or classical? Did he read much? Did he have any diabetes, because she had low blood-sugar problems. And what about her grandma Patty, what was she like? a salty pot roast that I tried to swallow and a lot of pink wine from a box that seemed to have no bottom. We didn't sip, we drank. My kind of women. We talked about silly things, stories about my brother, with Crystal layering on questions I felt embarrassed I couldn't answer: Did Ben like rock or classical? Did he read much? Did he have any diabetes, because she had low blood-sugar problems. And what about her grandma Patty, what was she like?

"I want to know them, as, you know, people. Not victims," she said with twenty-something piousness.

I excused myself to the bathroom, needing a moment away from the memories, the girl, Diondra. The realization I was out of people to talk to, that I'd come to the end, and now had to loop around and think about Runner again. The bathroom was as gross as the rest of the place, mucked with mold, the toilet perpetually running, wads of toilet paper smeared with lipstick dotting the floor around the trash-bin. Alone for the first time in the house, I couldn't resist looking for a souvenir. A glazed red vase sat on the back of the toilet tank, but I didn't have my purse with me. I needed something small. I opened the medicine cabinet and found several prescription bottles with Polly Palm written on the label. Sleeping pills and painkillers and allergy stuff. I took a few Vicodin, then pocketed a light pink lipstick and a thermometer. Very good fortune, as I would never, ever think to buy a thermometer, but I'd always wanted one. When I take to my bed, it's good to know whether I'm sick or just lazy.

I got back to the table, Crystal sitting with one foot on her chair, her chin resting on her knee. "I still have more questions," she said, her flute voice doing scales.

"I probably don't have the answers," I started, trying to ward her off. "I was just so young when it happened. I mean, I'd forgotten so much about my family until I began talking with Ben."

"Don't you have photo albums?" Crystal asked.