Sadie had finally coaxed Graham out of his room on the condition that they wouldn't have to talk if he didn't want to. He sat on the couch, absorbed in a Dean Koontz novel, while she took to the recliner with a copy of Hairstyles of the Damned by Joe Meno. When she had started the book at the beginning of the week, she had laughed through every chapter, the story chronicling the absurd and awkward coming of age of a kid growing up on Chicago's south side.
Now she found herself reading the same paragraph over and over, her mind slipping away from the words to memories of her own coming of age. For some reason, she kept thinking about Michael, about their apartment, and about that last day before he sent her life into a tailspin.
Shouldn't she be obsessing over her current relationship with Ethan?
She snapped the book shut and sighed. No point trying to concentrate on anything. She watched Graham, his head bowed, his eyes locked on the pages of his open book. She envied his ability to lose himself in a story, until she realized after several minutes that he had yet to turn a page. If she thought about it, she hadn't heard a single page flip since Graham had come out of his room.
“How's the story?” she asked.
He refused to look up from the book. “I thought I didn't have to talk.”
“Sorry. Never mind.”
“It sucks,” he said, yet continued to stare at the pages as if he meant to set them aflame with his gaze.
“I guess an author can't write a perfect novel every time.”
He finally lifted his eyes, but he focused on a point on the carpet midway between them. “I wasn't talking about the book.”
She set her own novel aside and stood, meaning to go over and sit next to Graham. The sound of the front door opening stopped her. From her vantage point she could see through to the front of the house. Ethan entered alone, no sign of Lazaro.
He spotted Sadie and crossed through the kitchen into the family room.
Graham tucked his book under his arm and rushed out.
Ethan spun and watched Graham disappear around the corner, headed back to his room.
“I need to talk to you,” Ethan called after him.
A second later, Graham's door slammed.
Ethan started to go after him, but Sadie took his hand. “Let him be. He's having a hard time with this.”
“He's not the only one.”
“I know.”
He relented and took her other hand in his.
His fingers felt cold against her knuckles. “Where's your friend?” she asked.
“I'm sorry about last night. He showed up, one thing led to another, I just wanted to let go and forget everything.”
“Okay.”
“Anyway, Laz is gone. I'm done with him.”
A cool rush rolled through her body. She hugged him, resting her cheek against his chest.
“If I'm going to have a sidekick,” he said, “it should be you.”
“Did you learn anything from the boyfriend?”
He made a hesitant sound in the back of his throat before answering. “That whole thing was pretty much a bust.”
“Are you going to tell the detectives about him?”
“I think they've already talked to him.”
She pulled back. “Did he say that?”
“The kid claimed to see Graham with Alison that day or night. My guess is Billy's their mystery witness.”
“Could he be lying?”
His focus seemed to split between her and something playing across his mind's eye. He turned his gaze toward a photo collage on the wall, a collection of school pictures of Alison and Graham from sixth grade on up.
“No,” he said.
“How do you know?”
“He wasn't in much of a position to lie.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it.” He wandered into the kitchen, looked around as if lost.
“You want me to fix you something to eat?”
“I don't know what I want. I want to sleep, I want to go out there and do something, I want to run away.” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Mostly, I want Alison back. I want to wake up from this God damned nightmare already.”
In a totally irrational way, she felt useless. If she couldn't pull him through his grief, what good was she? No matter how badly she wanted to, nothing she did could ease Ethan's pain. She joined Ethan in the kitchen and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. She rested her forehead against his back, feeling the ridge of his spine against her brow.
He pinned her hands to his stomach with his own and relaxed in her arms. “I couldn't make it through this without you.”
Did he know those were the exact words she needed to hear? She hugged him tighter.
“I've been horrible,” he said. “But I'm not pushing you away anymore.”
“You can push all you want. I'm not going anywhere.”
They decided to attempt making it through one night like a set of normal human beings. Ethan prepared dinner while Sadie convinced Graham to join them with the promise that Ethan wouldn't demand any answers from him.
Ethan stood by the promise. He served up a chicken stir-fry prepared from a bag out of the freezer, but the three of them ate with such silent vigor it might as well have been gourmet.
After dinner conversation began and ended with compliments to the chef. Graham helped Ethan load the dishwasher. Sadie cued a DVD, a light romantic comedy that wouldn't demand them to laugh if they didn't feel like it, yet could keep them distracted without them having to pay much attention to the plot.
When the credits rolled, Sadie could barely recall a single scene. Most of the time she basked in the warmth from Ethan's body pressed up next to her on the couch.
Graham went to bed while Sadie and Ethan stayed on the couch, the TV off, only a single lamp on, the house silent.
Eventually, they turned off the light and found their way through the dark to Ethan's bedroom. Neither of them spoke. They helped each other remove shirts, belts, panties, boxers. They lay naked under the covers for several minutes, Ethan spooned up behind Sadie, one of his hands cupping a breast.
The lovemaking came gradually and gently. Sadie lay on her back and looked up into Ethan's eyes only inches from hers. His breath tickled her lips, wet from kissing. She didn't climax, but she didn't care. It was enough to have him inside of her.
Afterward, they lay twined together, Ethan's face against her neck. She felt his tears on her skin. She held him and stared at the ceiling, ready for another sleepless night. But sleep finally found her.