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snapped the last of her control. It would be so easy to lean on him, to
pour out her heart and be comforted. But that would just be running
again. "I'm not really sure."
She rose when Lou came in. Her smile was hesitant, vulnerable, and for
Michael, devastatingly appealing. "Captain."
"Emma."Obviously pleased, he crossed to her to take both of her hands.
"All grown-up."
She nearly broke down then, almost laid her head on his chest and
wept as she once had so long ago. Instead she gripped his hands
tightly, searching his face. "You've hardly changed at all."
"That's exactly the kind of flattery a man needs from a beautiful
woman."
She smiled, easily this time. "No, really. I'm studying to be a
photographer so I try to observe and remember faces. It's kind of you
to see me again."
"Don't be silly. Sit, sit." He spied the iced tea and chose a gla.s.s,
wanting to give her time to be comfortable. "Is your father in town?"
"No." She ran her fingers up and down her own gla.s.s, but didn't drink.
"He's in London-or on his way. I'm living in New York now, going to
college there."
"I haven't been to New York for years." He settled back in a striped
wing chair that suited him so perfectly Emma imagined he rarely sat
elsewhere in that room. "Photography, you say. I remember, last time I
saw you, you had a camera."
"I still have it. Dad often says he created a monster when he gave me
that Nikon."
"How is Brian?"
"He's fine." Though she was far from sure of that. "Busy." Of that she
was sure. Then she took a deep breath and plunged into the truth. "He
doesn't know I'm here. I don't want him to."
"Why?),
She lifted her hand, then helplessly let it fall again. "He'd only be
upset, and miserably unhappy if he knew I'd come to see you, to talk
about Darren."
"Michael, will you give me a hand with something?" Marge started to
rise, but Emma shook her head.
"No, please. There's no need for you to go. It's certainly not
private. I suppose it never has been." Agitated, she set down her gla.s.s.
"It's only that I wondered if there was something, something you might
know, something the press didn't get their hands on, and that I was
considered too young to be told at the time. I've been able to put it
aside, for long stretches of time anyway. But it never really goes
away. And last night I remembered ..."
"What?" Lou leaned forward.
"Just a song," she murmured. "A song that was playing that night. I
remembered hearing it coming from downstairs gs I walked toward Daffen's
room. It was all so clear, for a moment, so clear. The song, the
lyrics, Darren crying. But I can't get to the door, you see. In my
head, when I try to remember, I can only see myself standing in the
hall."
