Range of Light by Valerie Miner Read Free Book Online Page A

pleasure, suspicion. Honest, I was interested. Saying this would be begging the question.
    â€œFine, fine. Watching TV together in the backyard. It’s one of those sweltering Cambridge nights. Humidity is something I don’t miss about the East.”
    I was curious about what she did miss and if she was lonely for them already and whether she found me so boring she might cut the trip short.
    â€œBut they all seem to be coping splendidly, eating ice cream and watching Star Trek on cable. Lou is spoiling them while I’m away—maybe to make me feel guilty. It’s not going to work: I deserve this holiday. I need it.”
    That was better. “Tell me about the boys.”
    Adele grinned and, as if her smile were too heavy for her face, she bent her head back on that long, pale neck. “Totally different. Simon’s ten. A sweet, relaxed kid. Bright as his dad, and with a temperament from some other universe, at least some other family: gentle, noncompetitive, confident.”
    â€œAnd Taylor?”
    â€œTaylor.” She paused, thinking. “Taylor is a year younger. Assertive, nervous and also very smart. Carrying neuroses from both the Wards and the Joneses. A complicated, fascinating boy, but too burdened for his age.”
    â€œSounds familiar.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” She was actually puzzled.
    â€œYou were a pretty burdened youth,” I tried cautiously.
    â€œMe? You mean Sari. I was the lucky one.”
    We were going too fast. I wasn’t ready for painful memories of Adele’s sister, Sari. For any painful memories. Why had I said anything? Because I was jealous of Adele’s kids. Not so much jealous of her for having kids but jealous of them for having her. How could I get out of this? I didn’t have to.
    She saw warning lights and asked, “How are your parents, Kath? I often think about your mom. She was … I mean, probably she still is … so warm, loving. Your place was such a refuge after my life in the house of a thousand swords.”
    I shrugged. It was coming back now, how Adele had never understood my family, had always idealized them as simple people with good hearts. Well, this wasn’t the time for analyzing Peterson pathology. “OK, I guess. But Dad’s developing a sort of senility, and that’s hard. Harder on her than him.” I kept my voice even. Later, maybe, I would tell her about Mom’s bruises.
    â€œI’m sorry” Adele looked at me with those huge brown eyes. “For all my troubles with Father, at least his mind is intact. How tough for you!”
    I nodded. “Maybe we can talk about it sometime later this week. When we’re not so tired.” Shivering, I wanted my sweater. Night had dropped abruptly. “Maybe we should get some rest?”
    â€œYes, yes, of course.” She gulped the last of her wine.
    â€œSorry, I didn’t mean to rush you.”
    â€œLou says hi.” She stood with the empty glass.
    â€œOh, right, good. ‘Hi’ back—next time you talk to him.” What else could I say about this man I had despised forever? Who had despised me. Adele had always been skillful at social niceties. So much more mature, a better, kinder person altogether.
    As we passed the meadows, I imagined how they’d look in winter. Quiet December with sun glinting off the ice. Long, dark tree branches scoring shadows across the white blanket. Every pawprint visible in snow. This summer evening, the meadow simmered with the scavenging, courting music of nocturnal critters. Baffin had loved the meadows. I wanted to talk about my cat, but even thinking about her choked me up. No, I wasn’t ready.
    Despite the dim light tonight, I spotted deer, jackrabbit and hawk. Adele saw a ground squirrel. We both smelled the skunk.
    Adele entered the tent first. I stayed outside, surrounded by aromas of dying trees and camp dinners, listening for night sounds, watching