"Yeah," Vix said, "almost two years older."

"Almost two years. Has it been that long? Is that possible? Come inside. I'm freezing. I forgot how late spring can come here. In Paris a"

Vix cut her off. "Everything's in bloom."

Caitlin laughed. "It's so good to see you! I miss you every single day of my life."

Vix had been a wreck, charged with nervous antic.i.p.ation all day, like a child expecting the return of a long-lost parent. If Caitlin felt Vix's cold shoulder, punishment for having abandoned her in the first place, she didn't show it. "I have so much to tell you," she said, "but it will have to wait until after the party. You'll spend the night, won't you?"

"I didn't bring a"

"Never mind. I'll give you a toothbrush. Do you still gag?"

"Only if I stick it down my throat."

"I wasn't talking about toothbrushes."

"I was."

Caitlin grabbed Vix's arm and led her through the crowd already gathered inside the house. "Fifty guests for fifty years. Is that cute or what? Sharkey's here and Daniel but I don't think Gus made it. What do you think of my hair? I hate it. I'm letting it grow. Lamb doesn't look fifty, does he?"

Vix began to melt.

All through the buffet supper Caitlin clung to her. "I need you tonight. Don't desert me. This is so hard."

"What is?"

"Being here. I feel like everyone's judging me."

Vix couldn't imagine who might be judging her or why Caitlin would suddenly care.

Sharkey HE'S JET-LAGGED. Feels like s.h.i.t. Took the red-eye from L.A. where the big guys at Cal Tech tried to convince him to do his graduate work. But M.I.T.'s after him, too. He's going to meet with them on Monday. Until then he's not going to make his decision.

Abby's asked him to make a toast to Lamb. Something short, she said. Something humorous. He's promised to try. He's been rehearsing it in his mind. He hates the idea of standing up in front of all those people.

When the time comes he raises his gla.s.s of champagne. To Lamb a he says, a father who knows when to leave well enough alone. The crowd grows quiet, like he's said something disrespectful when he meant to convey how lucky he feels that Lamb never pushed, that Lamb accepted him as he was, as he is. He was just trying to thank him, that's all. So how come they're all looking at him like that? Before he has the chance to figure it out Lamb is at his side, his arm around his shoulders. Thanks, Shark, he says. No father could ask for a better son!

Then it's Caitlin's turn and every guy in the room is drooling. And she's smiling at all of them, letting them think it's a possibility. To Lamb a she says, the best man I've ever known. And I've known more than my share.

Daniel AT LEAST he stands up and makes a proper toast, which is more than he can say for the b.i.t.c.h. Christ, you could hear the guests hold their breath when she finished, until Lamb laughed. Laughed and kissed Caitlin, telling her no father could ask for a more loving and spirited daughter. Leave it to Lamb to get out of an uncomfortable situation. He's got to hand it to him. The guy is never at a loss. He should be running for office.

Gus HE WOULD HAVE gone but he's got a paper due Monday and on top of that his grandmother's sick. It doesn't look good. They're keeping a bedside vigil. He can't stand the idea of her suffering even though they keep telling him she's not in pain. He and his grandmother have a special bond. He doesn't want to lose his Baboo. And he knows how badly she wants to make it to his graduation.

He calls during the party to wish Lamb a happy fiftieth. Just before they hang up he asks to speak to Vix.

h.e.l.lo, she says.

Hey, Cough Drop a how's it going?

What? she says. There's a lot of noise. I can't hear you.

Gus Kline, he shouts. Just wanted to say h.e.l.lo.

Is this really Gus?

He laughs.

Because if it is a I can't hear a thing.

Never mind, he says. He'd like to see her again. He's curious.

AFTER THE CHAMPAGNE and cake, the poems and songs and silly gifts, Vix went upstairs with Caitlin, to the room that had always been reserved for her visits. Like Caitlin's room on the Vineyard, Abby hadn't touched this one either. Caitlin sat on the edge of the bed and hugged a pillow to her chest. "I suppose you can tell I had an abortion."

Vix was stunned. "G.o.d, Caitlin, I had no idea! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Do you tell me everything?"

Caitlin had her there. "When?" Vix asked.

"Six weeks ago. It was a mistake. I'm still not sure how it happened. The condom broke, I think."

"Are you still seeing him?"

"No. He's married."

"The producer?"

"What producer?"

"The one who took you to the play in London?"

"What play in London?"

"You told me a when you called."

"I don't remember."

"It wasn't that long ago."

"Well a I've been busy. A lot of things happen. I don't necessarily remember all of them."

How come Vix remembered if Caitlin didn't? "Did you love him?" She didn't know why she bothered to ask when she already knew the answer.

"No, I didn't love him. But I enjoyed his company, in and out of bed."

Could she say the same about Bru? They hadn't spent that much time together out of bed, but in it a "I left the Sorbonne. I felt claustrophobic there. Everyone was so a French. It really got to me after a while. I'm better off in London, don't you think?"

Vix had no idea.

Suddenly, Caitlin's face lit up. "I've just had the most brilliant idea. Take junior year abroad. Wherever you decide to go, I'll go with you." She was dancing across the room now, singing out the names of cities. "Paris, London, Rome, there's even a program in Gren.o.ble." She flopped back on the bed then rolled over to face Vix.

Paris, London, Rome a Maia had considered spending junior year abroad but her parents urged her to wait. Paisley's family didn't have the money. We have fallen into genteel poverty, she'd told them, doing Scarlett O'Hara.

"Well? a" Caitlin asked.

"I can't."

Caitlin's mood shifted. "I'm so sick of hearing you say that!" She jumped off the bed, unzipped her dress, yanked it over her head, and dropped it on a chair. She was wearing black lace underwear, probably French. She grabbed a fuzzy robe out of the closet, way too small, left over from some visit when she was a kid, and pulled it around her.

"You're turning into the most negative person," Caitlin fumed. "I can't believe what that school is doing to you!"

"It has nothing to do with the school. I've got responsibilities. I can't just pack up and take junior year abroad because it's a nice idea!"

"What responsibilities a the scholarship?"

"More than that."

"Don't tell me a" Caitlin sounded thoroughly disgusted. "You're tied down already and you're not even twenty!" She sat back on the bed and worked off her boots, easing them down from thigh to ankle.

"I'm not tied down," Vix said.

"Oh, please a" She kicked off one boot, then the other. "He needs you more than you need him. Where is he, anyway? How come he's not here tonight?"

She was hoping no one would ask because Abby had told her to invite Bru and she hadn't. She didn't want to worry about him tonight, about whether or not he was enjoying himself. She wanted to keep her reunion with Caitlin to herself. "You've never been in love," she said. "You don't understand."

"If being in love means giving up your freedom, not to mention your opportunities," Caitlin said, "then I haven't missed anything."

30.

THE FOLLOWING CHRISTMAS, when she was a junior, Vix took Bru to Santa Fe. They drove out in his truck, listening to Bob Marley, Elvis Costello, James and Carly. Sometimes she worried they were acting old, settled, more tired than excited when they were together. But that would change, wouldn't it, when she was out of school? The real world couldn't be this hard.

The stories she heard at school about guys' behavior made her appreciate Bru even more. He was so sweet and loving, always concerned about her. Sometimes she wished they'd met later so it could all be new and fresh again. Those feelings. That rush. How did couples who'd been together for years manage to keep it exciting?

When they got to Santa Fe he found a cheap room in a sleazy motel on Cerrillos Road. She would stay at the house. It wasn't until they got there that she discovered her mother had accompanied the Countess to Key West. "It's the emphysema," her father said. "She can't take the high alt.i.tude anymore. She needs your mother's help getting settled."

Her father tried. He put up the old tabletop tree decorated with the gold and silver b.a.l.l.s Tawny kept packed in a hatbox on the top shelf of the hall closet. He roasted a turkey, made mashed potatoes and creamed onions, brought an apple pie home from the restaurant. Lewis was away for the holidays, with a friend's family, planning to enlist the second he graduated from high school. But Ed invited Lanie and her family up from Albuquerque. She had two babies by then, and this was the first time Vix had seen either one of them. They had green snot dripping out of their noses and pacifiers stuck in their mouths like valves. It was a wonder they could breathe. Vix held one feverish child, then the other, trying to find some genetic connection.

"They look like him," Lanie said, "Jimmy." Lanie looked drained, haggard, ten years older than Vix. Vix wished they could take out the old Barbies and play on the floor. This time she'd let Lanie use Barbie's Dream House. Jimmy didn't show up for dinner, not that Lanie expected him to. He was probably at his brother's house getting stoned, she said.

At the end of the day, when Lanie got into her truck with the children and the Christmas toys, she hit on Vix for money. "I work my a.s.s off shoveling manure while he sits around getting high. My life sucks." Vix felt like telling Lanie she was working her a.s.s off, too, making every penny count, but Jesus, she was a student at Harvard and Lanie was existing on food stamps so she ran back into the house and dug fifty dollars out of her wallet.

"Thanks," Lanie said, pocketing the money. "Your guy is gorgeous. Marry him while you can."

Vix was surprised. "I wouldn't have expected you to recommend marriage."

"Yeah, well a I didn't exactly plan on winding up like this."

"Get out of it then," Vix said. "Get your life together. You could move in with Dad, go back to school. You can't just give up."

Lanie's mouth hardened. "You come back here once in three years and think you can fix everything just like that? You don't know s.h.i.t about any of us. Tawny's gone for good, not that Dad will admit it. He's got some cow at work, not that he'll admit that either. You think she's going to put up with me and these two?" The kids were asleep, the baby in a car seat, Amber slumped against him, breathing heavily. Didn't Lanie know it was illegal to drive with an unprotected child?

"Are those bullet holes?" Vix asked, eyeing the damage to the door of the truck.

"Just some jerk at the trailer park shooting up everything in sight," Lanie told her, turning on the ignition. "Nothing personal."

Vix drove to the cemetery with her father. It was the first time she'd visited Nathan's grave since she'd left for college. She stopped at Kaune's to buy a poinsettia in a plastic pot and when they got there, she set it in front of the simple marker.

Nathan William Leonard

1970a"1982

Rest in Peace

Then she asked her father for some time alone. He nodded and walked away. She kneeled at the foot of the grave.

Ed HE CAN SEE HER HANDS moving. She's talking to Nathan. Does she still feel guilty for those summers away? He hopes not. He should tell her Nathan understood. Nathan always defended her. Took off after Tawny every time she bad mouthed Vix. How that boy loved her! He remembers taking the two of them on a camping trip in the RV. Nathan must have been six or seven. The way they'd laughed together! Vix, pushing him along a trail in his chair, uphill, then down a too fast a too fast a The surprise when he'd fallen. The fear in her eyes. Turned out to be only a bruised elbow. Decided not to tell Tawny. Their secret. Just the three of them.

How much does she know about Tawny and him? Did Lanie tell her he's seeing someone? Not that he wants it this way. He wants Tawny to come home. But she says it's over. They should both try to make new lives. What does that mean a a new life? A new life with Frankie? Frankie's okay. Makes him laugh. Long time since a woman made him laugh.

What about Vix and the boyfriend? Does she love him? He can't tell. Hard to believe she's a junior at Harvard. His daughter. A good kid, Vix. Maybe not a kid anymore. A woman. Yes. She looks like a woman now. He can feel the tears starting. Tawny hates it when he cries. Calls him weak. Maybe he is weak. So what? How come he can't talk to them a to his daughters? Do they know he loves them? Especially Vix. Does she know?

ON THE WAY HOME her father said, "He's a nice boy." At first she thought he was talking about Nathan, until he asked, "Are you happy?"

For a minute she considered letting down her guard, telling him how uncertain she was about life and love and everything in between. Then she thought better of it, given what Lanie had told her about Tawny and him.

"So that's where you come from," Bru said on the morning they left.

"Yes, that's where I come from." As soon as she said it, she started to cry. She heard Tawny's voice warning her, Save your tears for something important, Victoria. But this was important, wasn't it? Besides, she couldn't stop. She'd be eating a burger in some joint on the highway and it would start out of nowhere, tears flooding her eyes, a lump in her throat making it impossible to swallow. Or she'd be brushing her teeth before bed in some motel and catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror, just as her face contorted and the tears began. She wept for Nathan, for Lanie, for her father, and maybe for herself. She no longer knew her family, and they certainly didn't know her.