Page 84 of Falling Like Stars

“You’d be so proud,” Rowan says. “He was exceptionally convincing as a serial killer.”

Everybody laughs, and it’s like the room breathes a sigh of relief. My parents warm to her, and she relaxes into their warmth. I hate comparing everything she does to Eva, but Eva was the only other girl I ever brought home. My parents loved her at first, but it only took a year or two before the worried glances and nervous questions about where the relationship was going began. When I asked my mother for the heirloom engagement ring, she gave it to me, but I think it hurt her to do it. Now, watching her watch Rowan, she seems at ease.

“Come, Rowan,” Mom says, standing up. “We shouldn’t be sitting in this stuffy living room when we have a beautiful porch and a beautiful spring afternoon.”

She takes Rowan by the hand as we move through the house, past walls covered in pictures—endless photos of the family but mostly of Jeremy and me: in our little league uniforms, backstage after a play of mine, at the state fair, at a Cardinals game.

“Oh wow,” Rowan says, stopping to peruse. “Twice the cuteness.”

“Twice the headache,” Dad says, chuckling.

“Double trouble, for sure,” Mom puts in, “though Zach was mostly a little angel.” She looks at me fondly. “Mostly.”

Rowan gives my arm a nudge. “Mostly.”

“Zach did his fair share of troublemaking,” Mom continues. “He and Jeremy were all but identical until they were about nine years old, and they made the most of it, let me tell you. Pulling pranks as often as possible. Except on me. To this day, I’m the only one who could tell them apart.”

Rowan squints at a picture of Jeremy and me in our baseball uniforms, aged five. “That’s Zach,” she says, pointing at the little boy on the right.

“Very good!” Mom says with a smile. “Lucky guess.”

“That’s him,” Rowan says pointing at another picture of us at Six Flags amusement park. She looks at another. “And that’s him on the left. And that’s Zach, standing behind Jeremy at the zoo.”

“She’s four for four!” Mom’s eyes are wide with surprise, almost giddy. “How are you doing that?”

I look to Rowan, my voice soft. “Yeah, how are you doing that?”

She gives me a small smile and shrugs one shoulder. “I can just tell. Something in your eyes.”

There’s a quiet moment between the four of us, and then Jeremy breaks it like the proverbial bull in a China shop, bursting around the corner with a tray full of glasses and a pitcher of lemonade.

“What’d I miss?”

Mom loops her arm in Rowan’s and smiles affectionately at her. “Nothing. We’re taking care of our guest. She’s a keeper.”

Rowan smiles, but I notice her hands twisting. As Mom and Dad are fussing over who will sit where on the patio, I pull her aside.

“You okay?”

“Your mom is so nice to me.”

“That’s bad?”

“She reminds me of Josh’s mom. So kind. When my own mom…” Rowan’s eyes shine for a moment then she blinks hard and thrusts her chin. “Nope, I’m not going there. It’s not then. It’s now, right?”

“That’s right, but Rowan, if it’s too much...”

She shakes her head, resolute. “I am not going to mess this up for you. Or for me.”

“Rowan, Zach.” Mom waves us over. “Come sit.”

We sit with drinks outside on the back porch that overlooks an expansive yard ringed by trees. The edges of the property meld into the forest. The large pond in the center—almost a mini lake—was the selling point for my parents. A small canoe is hitched to an even smaller dock and makes a pleasant creaking sound, while a pair of ducks zigzag across the brown-green water. A lone egret stands guard.

“Well,” Jeremy says, lounging back in his chair. “Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“Your little gold friend. Don’t tell me you didn’t bring your Oscar.”

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