| |
Cameron
Every day since I came back from Philly, Shirlene has paced the labyrinth. I’ve watched from the second-floor deck. She talks to herself, or she’s whispering to the baby, whom she continually carries on her chest in the baby wrap. She walks to the center of the labyrinth, waits, goes back out, and starts over. When I ask her what she’s doing, she only says it’s her meditation. I’m losing her to something or someone else. Today, it’s raining, so I hope Shirlene won’t go to the labyrinth.
Shirlene comes down the stairs. “I’ve changed and nursed Arlene. She’s gone back to sleep.”
“How about some breakfast?”
“No, I’m not hungry.” She wanders over to the piano. “Did your cell ring in the middle of the night?”
I close my laptop. “I’m sorry it woke you. Aimee called from Italy.”
Shirlene sits on the piano stool. “I fell right back to sleep. Is she okay?”
“Her depression is so bad she’s trying to be released from her contract.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m worried someone is triggering it, but she didn’t go into details. She plans to come home.”
“There could be an upside. Since you’re the one she’s calling, perhaps she’s changed her mind.”
“What do you mean?”
“Possibly, she wants to start a life up with you again.”
My chest aches like I’ve been sucker punched. “Shirlene, my life is with you and Arlene now.”
Shirlene stands. “Oh, I thought... Never mind.”
“Aimee and I are close friends. Even if she did have a change of heart, it wouldn’t matter to me. I⸺”
“I’m going for a walk.” She rushes onto the porch, grabs an umbrella from the stand, and goes out into the rain.
She’s heading to the labyrinth again, and today, for the first time, she’s without the baby. Is that because it’s raining or for some other reason? Panic boils up into my chest when it occurs to me maybe she was saying goodbye to her daughter all those other times she went through the web of paths.
I grab the binoculars and go upstairs into Shirlene’s room. Through the window, I can see Shirlene from the waist up when she’s on the ocean side of the labyrinth. Otherwise, the dune blocks her, and only the top of the red umbrella she’s carrying is visible. She comes back around. When she turns toward the cottage, I watch her mouth moving. Although Arlene is fast asleep in her crib next to me, she’s still talking.
An osprey calls, and I watch it fly over the house. I look back toward the labyrinth. Shirlene is gone. She must be hidden by the dune, but the top of the umbrella was visible before. There is no sign of it or her. I wait for her to move away from the dune to where I can see her. Maybe she’s given up because of the rain, but she isn’t coming up the path from the beach either. I scan back over to the labyrinth, and she has disappeared. I toss down the binoculars and race downstairs.