Выбрать главу

He sighed. "No. I guess it's not."

They were silent for a moment. The house was still, quiet. Both Sam and Shannon were gone, out with their respective friends, and the only noise was the muted hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

"She'll have to quit after summer," Ginny said. "Once she goes off to school."

"I wasn't even thinking about that."

"Bullshit."

"You're right." Bill leaned back on the couch, stared up at the ceiling."Maybe she can get a summer job on campus, leave early."

"She hasn't even decided where she's going. She has to pick a college first."

"It depends on which one offers the best financial aid package."

They were quiet again, and Bill closed his eyes. He felt tired. He'd been tired a lot lately, though he wasn't sure why. He hadn't been getting any less sleep or doing any more work than usual. Stress, he supposed. He'd had a lot on his mind. Too much.

"We never sit outside anymore," Ginny said out of the blue.

He opened his eyes, turned his head toward her. "What?"

"We never sit outside anymore. Have you noticed that? We never sit on the porch together. You're always in front of your computer and I'm watching TV."

"We sit together. We're sitting together now."

"But not outside. We used to go outside after dinner, look up at the stars, talk. Remember that?"

"You're the one who doesn't like to go out at night. The bugs eat you alive."

"That's not the point." She moved closer, put an arm around his shoulder.

"We don't spend as much time together as we used to."

She was right, he realized. He hadn't thought about it before, but despite the fact that he worked at home and she usually came home from school before four, the only quality time they seemed to spend together was in bed. It was as if they lived two separate existences under the same roof. It hadn't always been this way. Once upon a time, they'd spent every free moment together. As she'd pointed out, they'd sit on the porch, cuddle, talk about the past, plan for the future. It was partially the girls, he supposed. When they were around, it was pretty hard to be intimate.

But he couldn't blame everything on them.

"You're right," he said. "We should spend more time together."

"It's almost summer. It's warm enough to sit on the porch."

"You want to go outside? Look at stars?"

She kissed him. "There's hope for us yet."

"Did you ever doubt it?"

"No," she said slowly, and her voice was surprisingly serious. "I never did."

2

They all had to attend Sam's graduation.

As a family.

Shannon had wanted to sit with her friends, who were clustered in the right front corner of the bleachers, near the gate through which the graduates would walk, but her parents said this was a family event and the family was going to celebrate it together.

Her grandparents had come over for the occasion, and she sat between her two grandmothers on the hot metal bench. Her father was manning the video camera, and she had been given the Nikon and assigned to take still photographs.

At least it gave her something to do. She loved her grandparents and all, was glad to see them, but it was kind of uncool to be hanging with them while her friends were on their own and had the run of the field.

She saw Diane hop over the rail of the bleachers and dash over to Zona Marsden, who was in the band, seated to the right of the empty folding chairs set up for the graduates. The two girls talked for a moment, heads huddled together, then both burst out laughing. Diane sped back across the athletic field and disappeared around the side of the bleachers.

Shannon thought of asking her dad if she could go with Diane, prepared to argue that she'd be able to get better pictures of Sam if she was down there with her, but at that moment, the band started up, playing some anonymous march, and red-jacketed ushers began leading teachers and school administrators to the first row of folding chairs.

"Make sure you get Sam when she steps onto the field!" her dad called, moving to the bleacher aisle and starting down the steps as he turned on the video camera.

"I will." Shannon stood, moved past her Grandma Jo and Grandpa Fred, and followed her father down the metal steps to the edge of the bleachers in order to get a better shot.

The adults were seated and the first graduates filed onto the field. They were doing it alphabetically, and the graduating class wasn't very big, so Sam would be near the beginning. Shannon took off the lens cap and adjusted the focus on the camera so she'd be able to just point and shoot when Samantha walked out.

"Here she comes!" her dad called.

Shannon snapped a photo as soon as Sam and her paired partner stepped through the gate, another as she approached the folding chairs, another as she sat down.

She'd be going through this herself next year. She wouldn't have the extra yellow tassel probably -- her grades weren't as good as Sam's -- but she'd be graduating. She glanced back at her grandparents. All four of them were smiling, and she knew they were happy, but the smiles seemed strained, as though they were in pain and had to force themselves to be cheerful. It suddenly hit her how old and frail her grandparents were, and the thought crossed her mind that they might not all be here for her graduation next year. She instantly pushed the horrible thought away, afraid to even think it, worried on some superstitious level that simply acknowledging the possibility might make it a reality.

She moved back to her seat for the remainder of the ceremony, putting warm hands on her grandmothers' cold, thin arms as prayers were said and speeches were read. Her dad remained in place, videotaping.

She went back down to the edge of the bleachers with her father when they started issuing diplomas, and she took a picture of Sam rising from her chair, another of her standing at the head of the line waiting to receive her diploma.

When they announced the name Samantha Davis over the loudspeaker, she couldn't resist, and even as she snapped a photo of Sam accepting the diploma from the principal, she whooped loudly, screamed.

Quite a few other people screamed and clapped as well. Sam was one of the most popular seniors in school, and while Shannon often found herself somewhat annoyed by that, she experienced a surge of pride today, and she was proud to be the sister of Samantha Davis.

After the ceremony, they were taking pictures in front of the Juniper Union High School sign, Samantha posing with both sets of grandparents, when Diane, breathless, came running up. She waved to Sam, nodded to her parents, then stood directly in front of Shannon. "They need two people to work the punch bowl at Grad Night," she said. "You want to do it?"

"What?"

"Smith and Jimmy got caught trying to smuggle a bottle of scotch into the gym. I guess they were going to spike the punch. It's supposed to be a sober grad night, no alcohol, so they were automatically kicked out, and now they're looking for two replacements. Mr. Handy said it's ours if we want it."

Shannon looked hopefully at her mother.

"Go ahead," her mom said, smiling.

"Yes!" Diane pumped a fist in the air and grinned. "I'll tell them we're in." She started running back down the sloping grass toward the gymnasium.

"Where and when?" Shannon called.

Diane turned around, running backward. "Meet me at the gym when you're through here!"

"We're going out to eat!"

"Eight o'clock, then! The gym!"

Shannon nodded, waved, and Diane disappeared into the crowd of still milling parents.

Dinner, Shannon thought, was somewhat depressing. They went to the Castle Creek Steakhouse, the closest thing to a decent restaurant in this area of the state, but so did half the graduating class. And although Sam spent most of the meal visiting with friends, talking to other kids, it was conspicuously obvious that she didn't have a boyfriend. Most of the other girls in the restaurant, except the losers, were eating out with their families and their boyfriends.