Chapter 55
The sound of Keeley’s soft regular breathing from the other room aggravated Zooey. The fact that her friend could so easily fall asleep even now was grating on her anger-frayed nerves. What made it worse was that Keeley was sleeping so peacefully while their daughter was alone in the Barefooter house, probably freezing and hungry and miserable. At least Zo had confronted Keeley in the kitchen after their card game, insisting that she stay the night on Pam’s daybed so that they could go over to the Barefooter house at dawn and have their long-overdue talk with Hannah. She wasn’t about to let Keeley fall asleep in the comfort of her own bed, making dragging her from it early in the morning tomorrow nearly impossible. She was done sitting by, letting Keeley call the shots. She had long ago paid for her sins.
Zo knew that the fact that Keeley fell asleep so easily had a lot to do with all the wine her friend had continued to drink over Uno, even after the others had stopped and switched to coffee. The four of them loved a cocktail, but not in the way Keeley had had loved her wine this afternoon. No, that constant, almost grateful, sipping from her wine glass wasn’t about having fun. It was about numbing. The question was: why was Keeley numbing herself? Keeley had been forcibly sunny all afternoon, but there had been a distracted distance, and off-note, in it all. What had been said on that boardwalk? It gnawed at Zo.
She turned over again on the couch, wrapping the soft chenille blanket more closely around her shoulders and pushing her face into the silk-covered pillow. Pam certainly knew comfort. Too bad it didn’t help in moments like these. Zo would probably never fall asleep. She was too wired up from anxiety and anger, a stimulating combination even without the two cups of coffee she’d had over the course of the afternoon. She’d played cards without enthusiasm, desperately wanting to run after Hannah and being stopped by the calm reason of Pam and Amy. Thank God for them, for if it had been stoically cheerful Keeley in her way, she would have pushed her aside and run down that boardwalk - hang the consequences.
Pam and Amy were right, of course. It had to be the two of them, not just one. Tomorrow would dawn soon enough. Just wait, be patient. Zo sighed. It was tough.
She turned over again and tried to relax. Slowly, her mind let go and images bloomed behind her eyelids. Her breathing became deeper. There were bright flowers. A garden. Red and yellow and orange flowers everywhere. They were moving. Dancing. Like flames. They were flames, not flowers. Licking on wood. Old wooden stairs.
Climbing, tiny licking yellow flame-flowers.
Zo sucked in a huge breath and sat up, the blanket dropping away. Something was wrong. She swung her legs off of the couch and looked around. The velvety darkness of the island filled the room, making her blind. No lights, not even nightlights or streetlights except for those all the way across the water on the causeway that gave a light orange edging to the windows. The much-talked-about full moon must have gone behind a cloud.
No, something was wrong. She could feel it. Hannah.
She reached down beside the couch and felt around for the flashlight that Pam had reluctantly given her when she insisted, battling the old-school sensibilities of her friend with her own determination to be safely mobile in the night. Her hand grazed the hard molded plastic and, grasping it, picked it up and switched it on. Putting it down on the floor so the light spilled in an elongated circle across the polished wood, she put on her now-dry boat shoes and tied their laces. She had to go to their little house. If her feeling was wrong and Hannah and the house were fine, she’d turn around, come back to Pam’s and try to sleep.
There was a muttering from the daybed around the corner. Then Keeley said, “Zo? Is that you? What are you doing?”
Tell her? She had to. She walked over to where her friend lay on the daybed. “I have a bad feeling. About Hannah. I just want to check on her.”
Keeley propped herself up on one elbow. She was still wearing her clothes from the day, refusing the pajamas Pam had offered her, saying she wanted to be ready to go first thing. Zo had put on sweatpants and a sweatshirt, an outfit Neil would’ve hated. He preferred frilly feminine nightgowns and silky slips. She relished the thought of never having to worry about what he thought again.
“Really? Oh, I’m sure she’s fine,” Keeley said, squinting up at her.
Zo looked at her. It was amazing. The years had barely touched her beautiful friend, especially in this light. She looked almost identical to how she’d looked at eighteen, as delicately blond and porcelain-perfect. All that had changed was that were a few laugh-lines around her eyes.
“I’m just going to check. If the house is fine, I’ll come back. Don’t worry, I won’t wake her. I just can’t sleep feeling like this.”
Keeley blinked. “Feeling?”
“Like something’s wrong. Something bad. I’ve got to go.”
“Okay, okay. Hold your horses. I just need to put on my shoes.”
There was a fluttering panic in her chest. Time was wasting away, going too fast. Hannah!
“I can’t wait. I’m sorry,” Zo said and turned, jogged to the door, threw it open, and ran into the orange-edged darkness.