At seven o’clock, I picked her up at her house. We exchanged ritual pleasantries and I held the car door open for her. When we were on the road, I tried to hold her hand, but they were tightly folded in her lap.

“Reggie came by today.” She was turned toward the window and I was watching the road, but our attention to inattention was intense.

“I went to see him when I heard.”

“You heard what?”

“That he made a pass at you and Harper clocked him.” I couldn’t look at her for long or I’d wreck the car, but she was worrying me. “I made sure he wasn’t holding any grudges.”

“Was he?”

“Only against me. Is everything all right, Rin? You said you didn’t have a thing with him, but I can turn around right now if you want.”

“No. There’s nothing. Harper said you lost everything? All your money?”

My money? Was that what she cared about? Was she another Lucia? Was she in my car because she thought she could make a killing? Would she bolt as soon as there was a whiff of trouble?

No. Not Catherine. I wouldn’t believe that of her. I was more experienced in the ways of gold-diggers than I wanted to be, but I wasn’t that jaded yet.

“I lost a lot.”

“I’m sorry what you worked for all those years was lost. Can you make it back?”

I shrugged. “With a lot of effort, a change of strategy, probably. I just don’t know if I want start all over.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” I reached for her hand, and she let me take it. “I have other things to work for now.”

---

This time, we went to the patch of grass just outside the fence legally, through a gate on the easternmost side that Marsha had loaned me the key for.

The tree we’d climbed in our sixteenth summer was wrapped with tiny white lights, and lines of hanging lanterns were strung between the fence and the branches in smile-shaped spokes. Garland and tinsel sparkled in the light.

Catherine stood right under it in the soft yellow light, looking up into the dense branches. “It’s beautiful.”

Her eyes were spots of glittering glass and her smile was brighter than any electric light.

“You’re beautiful.” I touched her face. I couldn’t help it. “Want to climb it?”

“Sure.”

I led her to the base of the trunk and put my hand on the bottom rung of my ladder. The bark had grown over some of the wood slabs, making the connection stronger but more treacherous since it was harder to get a foothold. “It’s higher, so I might have to help you up. And you have to be careful to make sure your foot’s securely on it.”

She put her hand on the bottom rung where the bark had grown over. It was chest high.

“Here.” I held out my hand. “Take a step back, kick up, and I’ll get you on.”

She understood me right away, kicking her right foot until it reached the lowest rung. I pushed her forward and up.

She took the next rung and looked down at me. “I’m wearing pants this time.”

“I didn’t look up your skirt last time either.”

She climbed, taking the same path she had thirteen years earlier, scooting down the thick branch so I had room to sit. She swung her leg over so both feet were hanging over the same side. I straddled the branch so my chest was at her right shoulder.

“This seemed higher up when we were kids.”

“It’s only about eight feet.” I kissed her cheek, lingering on her smell. Roses. Still roses. When she faced me, I kissed her lips, but after a few moments, she stopped.

“How did you leave it with Reggie?” she asked.

“I told him I was going to fight for you.”

She leaned away from me. A string of lights blinked off, then on again, leaving a layer of darkness on her face.

“Did you?”

I leaned away only enough to catch her perplexed expression. “Yeah, I said that.”

“No.” She shifted a little, putting more of her right leg on the trunk. “Did you fight for me? When I was here, by myself, holding everyone in Barrington on my shoulders? Did you fight for me?”

I was defensive and I didn’t know why. “Whoa, there—”

She wasn’t going to be held up. She wasn’t a horse with reins I could pull back. She was a tidal wave.

“You know—” She shook her head quickly, mouth tight as if she was trying to hold back a torrent. “I thought I was okay with this but no. No, I’m not.”

“Catherine—”

Her name, or my voice, broke a dam for her. “Did you come? No. Did you check on me? Did you call? You knew my parents died. You knew the factory closed. You sat in your ivory tower in New York and turned your back, and now that you’re divorced and you’ve lost everything, you think you can come back and tell Reggie you’re going to fight for me?”

“I wrote you a hundred letters!”

“I didn’t respond to a single one and it never occurred to you I wasn’t getting them?”

“Oh, you know what, lady—”

“You had to know something was wrong when I didn’t write back!”

“You got with Frank Marshall the minute I left!”

She sat in shock. The string of lights shorted again, blinking twice.

“My mother still lived here. She told me. And it hurt, but I kept writing. When you didn’t write back, I figured you married him or—”

“Frank Marshall is gay, you stupid, stupid man!”

“What? You…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I had too many questions, but I didn’t want to ask them. I wanted to yell. I wanted to defend myself against her accusations.

She was wrong. She had to be wrong, because I was nursing my own hurt. I couldn’t be the one who was wrong. There had to be some way to turn this around, some way I didn’t abandon her.

Her voice didn’t soften. Anger clipped every word. “He needed a cover for a relationship he was having. So we ‘dated’ and my mother stopped trying to set me up with ‘acceptable’ young men.”

“How was I supposed to know?”

“You could have asked. You could have picked up the phone. Come around once you had enough money. Sent your number with a sympathy card when Dad died. But you didn’t. You’re not going to fight for me, Chris. Don’t lie to Reggie. Don’t lie to me, and don’t lie to yourself.”

She straightened her back and let her bottom slide over the branch. Thinking she was going to fall, I took her arm to steady her.

“Let go.”

“I don’t want you to fall.”

“You were supposed to go first so I could get off first, and you didn’t. You forgot.” Her tears dropped like summer rain, and her chin quivered like rose petals in the breeze. I couldn’t deny I’d forgotten I’d said that our first time up in the tree. I could only sit still. “So much time’s passed, bark’s grown over the ladder, but when you said you’d fight for me, it all came back. It’s like yesterday. This raw place where I know I’m not worthy of coming back to. I’m not worth fighting for. I’m shit.”

“Cath—”

She was gone, pushed off the branch, landing on her feet, knees bent, arms out for balance. Looking up at me, the dots of light glint off her tears.

“You’re not shit.” I wished I could eat those words, because they’re the bare minimum and she deserves the maximum. They’re a denial, not a declaration.

“I know.”

I dropped to the ground, but by the time I hit the grass, she’d already run away.