Page 69 of The Luminaries
Three cars pass her as she aims downtown to drop off Darian. The third car honks.
“Ah, screw you, buddy!” Mom flips them the bird, although she gets her fingers mixed up. So it’s really just a stern ring finger. “If we wanna go slow, we’ll go slow. Although Winnie.” Mom turns a serious face on her. “We are going very slow.”
“Veryslow,” Darian intones from the back seat.
“I’m aware.” Winnie grips the steering wheel so hard her knuckles ache. “But you haven’t taught me how to shift gears yet.”
“I taught you.” Mom makes a fuzzy face. “Two weeks ago. Three.SometimeI taught you. It’s just like going into first gear. You just need to be gentle with the clutch.”
“Except it’s not like that, Mom, because now I’m in motion and can stall. So, if either of you want to get home tonight, we’re staying in first gear all the way.”
Mom giggles. “That’s funny.”
“It really is.” Darian giggles too.
And Winnie sighs. No more champagne for them. Ever again. Not unless it’s the nonalcoholic variety.
After Winnie drops off Darian (let Andrew deal with his silliness), the Volvo becomes much quieter. In fact, Mom goes totally silent—even whenanothercar passes and honks. Winnie waves apologetically.
She is just puttering them out of downtown when Mom says something wholly unexpected. “Your dad and I used to eat lunch at that picnic table.”
Winnie’s gaze snaps to Mom, who slouches against the window and gazes out at a patio surrounded by hydrangeas yet to bloom. “He always talked about how hydrangeas change color based on the soil’s pH. And I always told him it was fascinating.”
Winnie remembers Dad telling her the same thing once, but she doesn’t dare say that to Mom. This is the first time in four years Mom has mentioned Dad without fury in her voice. She doesn’t seem sad either. More… fond. Like this is a happy memory and it’s making her smile.
“Did you know he once challenged Rachel to a drinking contest at Wednesday dinner, and hellions and banshees did helose.He got through two beers by the time she’d finished almost four. We”—Mom lurches a pointed finger toward Winnie—“know how to drink in our family. You can thank Great-Grandma Maria for that.”
Winnie isn’t going to thank Great-Grandma Maria for anything because Mom definitelycannotdrink, and Winnie really hopes she never has to be Designated Driver again.
When Winnie reaches their street, she very,veryslowly turns onto it. And very,verycasually she asks, “Mom, do you ever wonder how we didn’t see it? What Dad really was, I mean?”
Mom’s eyebrows bounce to the top of her face, while Winnie’s heart thumps into the high gears she can’t reach with the car. She’s still too scared to ask about the birthday cards, but this… it seems innocent enough. She hopes.
“I used to.” Mom leans back in her seat. “Hell, I even believed at first that hehadn’tdone it. That hewasn’ta Diana. How could I not, Winnie? Denial’s a pretty strong reflux… reflec… tion?”
“Reflex.”
“That.” Mom rubs at her eyes. “We’d been together for almost twenty years, and I’d truly never seen any hints that he might be…” She draws in a ragged breath. “The bad guy. No crystal ball sources, no scars on his fingertips. But our minds are pretty good at hiding what we don’t want to see, Winnebago. And the truth is that he was a Diana. Heisa Diana, and wishing otherwise or wondering what we hadn’t seen is never going to change it.”
CHAPTER35
When Winnie finally gets back to the Wednesday estate, forty-five minutes have passed. The party will start soon. She both dreads going to it and also desperately wants to.Anythingthat will get her mind off Dad and that drawing at the library. Off the Whisperer no one will believe in.
Yet she finds herself just sitting in the Volvo’s driver’s seat, unmoving, while she stares with unfocused eyes at the twins’ gift in unicorn wrapping paper upon her lap.
Someone knocks at her window. Winnie whirls about, fists rising and heart lurching. But it’s only Jay, bent over and peering through the glass. He lifts his hands, supplicating.
Winnie swallows. Then opens the door.
“Never startle a Luminary,” he says, offering a weak smile. “Sorry.”
“You’re fine,” Winnie lies. She hadn’t seen him shuffling about in the shadows. Jay steps closer, emerging from the full darkness into clouded moonlight—and Winnie’s eyes almost jump from their sockets. “Are you wearing a tux?”
“Unfortunately. L.A. insisted.”
“Did you rent it?” Winnie inspects the black bow tie that suits him surprisingly well.
“No, I own it.”
