The sentence died on her lips, and she withdrew her hand. Casting a panicked look at the front door, she said, “You’ve got to go.”
The band in Ford’s head stopped playing chaotically, each instrument cutting off mid-phrase. Ford’s thoughts felt dizzy and slow. “Why? What’s happening?”
Sadie hadn’t heard anything over the clamor in Ford’s head, but the sound of knocking on the front door was clearly audible now.
Plum pushed him toward her bedroom, detouring by the couch to grab his shoes. “You have to get out of here. Now.”
He took the shoes and looked around, wondering if he’d left anything else. “How?”
“Hide in the closet. I’ll create a distraction in the office. Wait thirty seconds from when you last hear voices and make for the back door in the kitchen. It goes to the service stairs, and you can take those all the way down to the garage. Then you can avoid being seen by the doormen.”
It sounded like a good idea to Sadie. But Ford’s vision dimmed as he listened to Plum, and his voice was harsh as he demanded, “Hide in the closet? Sneak out? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I’m not doing this for me, I’m doing it for you,” Plum told him seriously.
Sadie thought that was okay too, but Ford’s mind screamed, Liar!
There was another knock on the front door. “Go,” Plum insisted, pointing to the closet. “Now.”
He caught her wrist as she turned to leave, stopping her. “How did you get my number?”
She tried to shake his hand off. “Not now.”
He didn’t budge. “Just tell me. Where did you get it?”
Her eyes slewed away from him, toward the bed. “I don’t remember, okay? Now get in there,” she urged and left, shutting the bedroom door with a click.
Ford cocked his ears, listening for sounds from the other room. He heard Plum’s footsteps padding across the floor, the front door opening.
Plum’s voice, perhaps slightly too loud, saying, “I wasn’t expecting you.” The sound of a kiss, the front door closing.
Sadie watched Ford running through different possibilities in his head. Saunter out of the room and say “thanks” and leave. Saunter out and make the other guy leave. Hide in the closet.
“Sorry it took me so long to get to the door. You woke me,” he heard Plum going on.
Sadie tried to imagine what it would be like to be beholden to someone that way. To have to pretend to be happy to see them even if you weren’t, put whatever else you were doing aside just because they told you to.
The sound of glasses shifting, murmurs, then Plum again, not as loud: “Oh, yes, I had company earlier, but they’re long gone.”
Ford went and stood by the closet. It was big, bigger than his mother’s room, and full. There were plenty of things to hide behind, but if someone actually came in and looked, it wouldn’t take them long to find him.
The voices from the other room receded until Plum’s voice pierced the quiet, saying, “You’re checking up on me.” Points of white and black pulled together in Ford’s mind to form a picture of Plum, her expression petulant, her arms crossed beneath her boobs. “I don’t care what you said, I can do what I want.”
The sound of footsteps quickly approaching filtered through the door of the bedroom.
“Where are you going?” Plum demanded, her feet pitter-patting behind the other set. “What are you doing?”
Sadie heard Ford teasing out the threads of Plum’s tone, part concern, part expectation.
The bedroom door flew open. The footsteps didn’t stop but made straight for the closet, and Sadie heard Ford wondering how many times these two had played out this drama before.
He was curious about what the man looked like, but seeing him wasn’t worth the risk of getting caught, Ford decided. As soon as he heard the sound of the closet door being thrown open, he slipped out from behind the bedroom door where he’d hidden. He caught a momentary glimpse of Plum hovering outside the closet, looking as though she was about to get a treat.
Ford had been right, Sadie realized as he took off. Plum had been setting him up. This was a game for her.
Bedroom to kitchen to back service stairs took him less than thirty seconds. He ran down two flights, then pushed through to the main hallway and took the elevator the rest of the way. By the time he reached the garage his pants were buttoned, his belt was done, and his shirt was tucked.
An older couple driving by gave him a strange look, and he realized he was still barefoot and carrying his shoes.
This is why it’s a good policy to stay dressed while at strangers’ houses, Sadie told him.
Night had fallen over the city, clear and sweet, with a deep blueberry sky that made the stars look like diamonds. Or maybe the stars always looked expensive around here, Ford thought. He glanced up at the icicle-shaped skyscraper he’d just left and began to laugh.
His mind replayed the last hour in dots of color: Plum on her knees; Plum reciting bad movie dialogue; Plum shoving his shoes into his arms. Sadie heard him wondering what usually happened to the guy in the closet: Was he horsewhipped and sent down in the elevator tied up, or did they give him a drink and dinner? Was this how they got their thrills?
Then he flipped to a much older memory of tomato soup and grilled cheese and a snowball fight, rolling a huge snowball off the edge of the roof onto James’s startled head. His brother’s eyes huge with surprise like Plum’s had been, James saying, “You got me good,” and then the two of them cracking up for hours.
God, James was going to laugh when Ford told him about what had just—
Ford stopped walking, stopped breathing. Sadie felt pain jolt him like a hard punch to the chest, racking his body, making every muscle, every sinew tense. Jagged shards of ice pierced him, his head rushed with noise, and he bent double right in the middle of the street in pure agony.
This wasn’t ordinary grief, Sadie knew instinctively, it was far worse than that. Because he’d forgotten. For a moment, for a second, he forgot James was dead. And when he remembered, the force of it was too much. This was grief so profound it was like being turned inside out by it, left with the most vulnerable parts exposed to the air. There was no escape from this pain. Every gesture, every motion made his body scream with it.
He didn’t want to go on, she heard him think, didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted to stay in that place forever until something happened to take the pain away.
A car roared up, its horn blaring, and he stumbled forward blindly, barely making it to the curb before it passed. He sank back against the wall and closed his eyes, breathing unevenly. Sadie felt the agony inside him change, not subsiding but becoming less jagged, less piercing. Its sharp edges receded; its ache deepened and became more like a smooth round rock, still hard but now more the constant throbbing of everyday grief than the sting of a fresh gash. She thought she smelled pine again.
After a few minutes he pulled himself to his feet. Sadie felt the effort it cost him, but his breathing was normal and his head was clear. As he unlocked his bike his thoughts replayed Plum’s reaction when he’d asked how she knew his phone number. It should have been an easy question. She could have answered honestly, or picked one of a hundred simple lies. Instead she’d been evasive.
Looks like I found the right wrong question, he thought. If only he had any idea what it meant.
CHAPTER 19
Storm clouds massed all Thursday afternoon, mirroring the dark mood inside Ford’s head. His crew was demoing a library built in the 1920s, full of gorgeous details that Ford was devastated about destroying. He’d called and left three messages for Mason “Just Pretending to Care” Bligh, telling him about all the great stuff there, but the guy hadn’t called back once. No surprise, Ford figured. People who lived in those fancy spaceship buildings were selfish liars.