Sleeping Beauties

·

The morning after Thanksgiving, Lila drives to the gravel turnaround on Ball’s Hill and parks. She pops Andy, bundled in his infant snowsuit, into a baby carrier. She starts to hike.

Maybe they could put their Humpty-Dumpty marriage back together, Lila muses. Maybe, if she wants him to, Clint could love her again. But does she want him to? There is a mark on Lila’s soul, the name of the mark is Jeanette Sorley, and she does not know how to erase it. Or if she wants to.

Andy makes small, amused noises as she walks. Her heart aches for Tiffany. An unfairness and a randomness knits into the fabric of everything and it inspires as much awe in Lila as it does resentment. The icy woods creak and tick. When she gets to Truman Mayweather’s trailer, it’s frosted with snow. She gives it just a passing glance and moves on. Not far to go now.

She emerges into the clearing. The Amazing Tree isn’t there. Jeanette’s grave is not there. There is nothing but winter grass and a haggard oak stripped of its leaves. The grass wavers, an orange shape flashes, vanishes, and the grass resettles. Her breath steams. The baby hums and expresses what sounds like a question.

“Evie?” Lila moves around in a circle, searching—woods, ground, grass, air, milky sunshine—but there’s no one. “Evie, are you there?”

She yearns for a signal, any kind of signal.

A moth flutters from the branch of the old oak tree and settles on her hand.