Read Online Wish You Were Here by Stewart O’Nan - Free Book Online Page B

diagram she’d taught her third-graders, the rain falling on the mountains, rolling through the fields to the sea only to evaporate and rain down again from the clouds. It was all the same water, cycling over and over, yet it seemed the lake no longer knew her.
    Last fall when Henry was in the hospital, she visited every day. Once, when Emily had left the room, he gestured for her to come closer. She took his hand and bent down to hear him better.
    â€œArlie,” he said, and it was an effort.
    â€œYes, Henry.”
    â€œBe patient with her.”
    She could have asked him who he meant. “I always am.”
    â€œI know,” he said, and found the strength to lift his other hand and sandwich hers, as if he were comforting her. She thought he had meant to thank her for putting up with Emily all these years, but instead it felt as if he was charging her to take care of Emily, passing Emily along as if shewas a child. It was unfair: she’d never wanted Emily, only him. She’d wanted him to acknowledge that bond that existed before any other and that she thought was stronger—having been in love just once—than any since. But it seemed he’d forgotten how they’d been, or could not tell her, and it would have hurt her even more deeply to press the issue, beg him like a woman jilted.
    She
remembered, even if everyone else was gone, and there, as if proof, came the first peal from the bell tower. And then the second, chilly, drifting away over the lake. She sat there listening without a cigarette, holding herself against the cold, while far out on the water she lay back, happy, waiting for him to say something.

6
    Justin refused to wake up, so Ken had to carry him. Meg grabbed the sleeping bags and asked Sarah to bring the pillows. Yes, and Tigger. The rest would just have to wait till tomorrow.
    She’d been driving so long her only goal now was getting inside the house, getting the kids down, then collapsing herself. Her eyes hurt, and her back, even her hands, cramped from gripping the wheel, but they’d made it, and with no tickets, no major fights. It seemed a great accomplishment.
    The grass was wet and lumpy beneath her feet—she was stepping on chestnuts. She was surprised to find Arlene holding the screendoor for them; usually she was asleep by this time. She was not surprised that her mother had already gone to bed. She’d hear about it first thing tomorrow, how worried she’d been (but not enough to stay up).
    Inside, the light hurt her eyes, and then when she headed upstairs she couldn’t see, and had to stop, and Ken bumped into her from behind.
    The fan was running and the air smelled the same, instantly snatched her back thirty years, turned her into a thirteen-year-old with her period, hiding up here on a beautiful day. Sam and Ella were by the chimney, and she laid out Justin’s bag right beside them, unzippered it so Ken could set him down. Sarah was there with his pillow, and Meg slid it under his head. She pulled off Justin’s shoes and socks, Sarah pushed Tigger into his arms, and she folded the flap over him.
    Lise was asleep in one bed, the other queen was for her. It seemed a waste of space, all that room. Jeff had left her nearly a year ago, and she still wasn’t used to sleeping alone.
    â€œYou can take care of yourself, can’t you?” she asked Sarah.
    â€œWhat about my toothbrush?”
    â€œDo you really, absolutely need it?”
    â€œI guess not.”
    â€œIt’s not going to kill you to skip brushing this once,” Meg explained, but Sarah put on her wounded face, as if she were bullying her. “Which bag is it in?”
    â€œMy purple one.”
    â€œGet ready for bed,” she ordered, and went downstairs and through the living room and out the screenporch and across the lawn to the van.
    She thumbed the button for the back hatch, but she’d locked it at the rest stop and had to dig in