13

Half an hour later, Esther and Craig emerged from the Saunders home. The mid-April afternoon had warmed, transforming the earlier rainfall into a humid blanket. In a few weeks, such days would be oppressive. Now the air was crystal clear and fragrant. Esther said, “All I can see are the holes in my ideas.”

“At this stage I’d say that’s pretty normal,” Craig replied. “Where is your car?”

She pointed down the block. “Do you think my structure has potential?”

Their footsteps were punctuated by shrieks of children playing in the street. He was silent long enough for Esther to fear he thought her idea lacked merit. Instead, Craig said, “Do you really want my opinion?”

“Of course.”

“You’re asking the wrong question.”

She stopped where the sunlight pierced the branches overhead. “Explain.”

“The real issue is, why are you doing this? I know, I know, the economy is under threat. But you could easily build yourself a financial bunker and wait it out.”

A fitful breeze shivered the high branches, sprinkling the sidewalk with a few raindrops. Where the sunlight touched them, the rain shone like gemstones. “I don’t follow.”

“Why are you so concerned, Esther? What is the purpose behind your feeling this need to speak out? Is it some vague notion of punishing the wrongdoers?”

“There’s nothing vague about this.”

“No, you’re absolutely right. That was not the right word. I apologize.”

She had not expected such a quick retreat. Esther could see he was ready to drop the subject entirely. It troubled her in a way she could not explain, as though his words had worked beneath her skin. Still, she felt a faint resonance, a need to understand. She said, “Tell me what the answer is.”

That pleased him. “You’re the analyst. And this is your issue, not mine. You need to reach the conclusion yourself.”

Once again she felt as if she were not staring at a handsome man but rather an internal mirror. She had no idea how to respond.

“Here’s what I think. You’ve been so worried for so long, you’ve not permitted yourself to think beyond the problem. But you’re no longer alone. You have allies now. You have the workings of a plan. But this is only the first step.”

“I know I need to work out the details.”

“Not the plan, Esther. The plan is fine.” Craig pointed back toward the house. “You have a lot of people in there right now who are claiming the plan as their own. They’ll flesh things out. That’s why I suggested we leave, so they can build the wings your plan needs to fly.”

She turned away from him and squinted into the brilliant light. She knew he was right. But she still did not see . . .

“The people inside that house came because they are worried. They’re afraid. They’ve spent months and years feeling totally helpless. And until you showed up, they could not name what scared them. Only that something about their financial world was wrong.”

Esther could see the tiny shards of an answer flickering in and out of focus in the sunlight. But try as she might, she could not bring them together into a cohesive whole. Finally she said, “I need to think about this.”

Craig waited for her to beep her locks, then opened her door. “Will you see your brother tomorrow morning?”

“Seven-thirty.”

“May I join you?”

“I’d like that.”

“So would I.” He looked down at her for a long moment, then said, “You did really, really well in there.”