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Her notebook was zipped away in her travel bag this time. Polly curled up in the seat, her sock feet tucked under her, as the train rattled northwards. Her travel bag, the big zippered bag that Max had sent over before her trip to Greece, was starting to look grimy.
Daddy had been going to buy her a plane ticket. "Isn't there a train from Charleston?" she'd asked. "I'd like to do something different this time." Daddy raised his eyebrows, but called Sandy's friend the travel agent, who'd handled much stranger travel requests from various O'Keefes over the years, and now here she was on the train.
It seemed like years ago that she was leaving home for Greece, not a few short months. She'd felt so desperate and confused running away from Max, from Straw, from Renny and her family, from herself. And now? Was she doing it again?
Polly stared blankly out the window, as the train slowed to another stop next to sidings full of graffiti-sided boxcars. The train wasn't full and she had a pair of seats to herself, but her shoulders were stiff and she couldn't get comfortable.
Polly remembered her mother pushing a sweater on her at the last minute "in case it's chilly on the train". She pulled it out of her bag, a fine soft dark-green cardigan that had been a gift from Dennys and Lucy. She'd only worn it a few times, because it was too fine for everyday and too thin to be really warm, but it was just the thing for tucking behind her stiff neck and resting her head. She put a hand in her jeans pocket and rubbed an uneven stone she found there, and her eyes closed.
She remembered Max telling travel stories, talking about uncomfortable trains in India and crowded buses in South America. "Sleep when you can," Max had advised, "then when you get to your destination you'll have more energy for dealing with porters and finding your guesthouse." Polly smiled to herself at the idea of Grandfather Murry as a native porter. At least he wouldn't exclaim over the weight of books in her bag, as the baggage clerk at Charleston station had.
Grand and Grandfather were so ... She tried to find a word for it. Settled? Predictable? Self-contained?
***
After she'd left Osia Thiola, Zachary Grey had met her in Athens airport, as he'd promised. "Hey, sweet Pol, I keep my word," he'd bowed and gestured towards an airport café. Well, no, he didn't always, Polly thought, but he was good company anyway.
Zachary ordered a pot of tea, "with lemon, and biscuits ... or did you want some retsina this time?" His crooked grin showed that he was teasing her.
"Tea will be lovely. Thank you." She noticed a travel agency envelope sticking out of his jacket pocket - she'd seen enough of them lately to recognize the shape. "Are you moving on soon? Where to now?"
"Home," Zachary said. "When I was in the hospital after putting you in danger - "
Polly hoped he wasn't going to spend more time apologizing. Her discomfort must have shown on her face, because Zachary interrupted himself to pour the tea, and then said "Anyway, I did some thinking, and I decided it was time to go back to spending Pop's money on tuition fees instead of travel."
"That's good," Polly said, squeezing lemon into her tea, sniffing it in pleasure and adding a bit of sugar. "I'll be back in class myself in a few days, I suppose."
"Like an ordinary girl - but you could never be ordinary, my Pol".
She smiled, sipping her tea. His Pol. Not really - but maybe a little bit. She was a bit her parent's little girl, a bit Zach's Pol, a bit Renny's "Listen, Polly", Omio's friend, Max's protégée ... She couldn't wait to see Max again, to lie on the hearth rug at Beau Allaire and tell Max all about Greece, and Cyprus, and Virginia Bowen Porcher, and strong gentle Krhis, and brisk Norine, and the last night of the conference when she'd read them one of her poems, a new one about waiting at the gates of Epidaurus for forgiveness and healing. Millie had had tears in her eyes, and Krhis had clasped her hand, and Virginia had nodded. At my poem.
Should she try telephoning Max again? No, she'd wait until she got home - by the time she got more drachmas and got a transatlantic call, it would be time to go to the boarding lounge. Polly sipped her tea and half-listened to Zachary chatter on about arranging his course registration and figuring out ways to get credit for working in a law office. She admired the way his dark hair shone in the awful airport lights, and she pictured herself describing Zachary to Max. Unlike Sandy, Max wouldn't judge Zachary until Polly finished describing him. And describing him to Max might even help her figure out what she thought of him herself.
***
But when Polly got off the plane in Atlanta, looking for Daddy's tall head over the crowd, instead she saw Sandy, with an arm around - yes, that was Charles. What were they doing here? Where was Daddy? Was something wrong at home? Before she could say anything, Sandy had her wrapped up in one of his hugs, while Charles took her tote bag and patted her arm.
"Max is gone," Sandy said, his bearded face still resting on the top of her head. "Urs called us yesterday, but you were already en route."
"She's dead?" Polly gasped. "But we were going to talk ... I just talked to her the other day ... we didn't get to say anything." She couldn't take it in.
"I know you called. Urs said that Max was comforted that things were going to be right between you again. You did a good thing." Sandy's eyes crinkled in an almost-smile as he took Polly's arm.
Charles had a luggage cart and was steering them towards the baggage claim, as Sandy's voice rumbled on about Max and Urs. "And what are you doing here, Charles?" Charles looked, if anything, taller than he had earlier in the summer. He'd had a different haircut - with his hair standing up in russet spikes he didn't look like the tidy little brother she remembered.
Charles paused a moment before answering. "I wanted to stay with Dennys and Lucy for another semester, but ... I dunno." He shrugged.
Polly didn't remember the next few days very well. The house was full of people - Dennys had come without Lucy and Kate, but Sandy and Rhea were there too, and they all kept dropping in at Beau Allaire, taking food - although, as Xan said once when he saw a plate of warm cookies being packed away before he could grab more than a couple, "I thought Nettie would want to be cooking for everybody anyway."
Eventually everyone left, and they got back to the noisy normal chaos of life at the O'Keefe house. But Polly still felt unsettled. The little kids seemed bigger, more independent, less likely to want a cuddle. Peggy was going through a surly phase. She was wearing her hair very short, and very black - courtesy of Kate before she left. Den and Xan were off at basketball and getting calls from girls. Charles was distant. Mother tried to ask Polly questions about Cyprus and Greece, but Polly found she didn't really want to talk to Mother either.
***
One evening after the little kids were in bed and Xan was lying on the sofa in the living room talking on the telephone, Polly was standing in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil for herb tea - another custom she'd picked up from Max and Urs. Out the window, she saw the lights on in Daddy's lab, so she made an extra mug of tea and carried it out to visit.
But it wasn't Daddy sitting in the desk chair with a writing pad on his lap - it was Charles. Charles jumped a bit when he saw her. "Oh, hi," Polly said awkwardly. "I thought you were Daddy, so I brought you some mint tea."
"No, Dad's gone to bed with a book. But I could drink the tea," Charles put down his writing pad and pen, shuffling some papers on top of the pad.
"Oh, I've missed you," Polly said, sitting on a lab stool. "So how come you're hanging out here this late?"
She saw Charles glance at the writing pad and look away again. "Mostly it's for Dad." Not Daddy, Dad. "He's had some vandalism - some experiments wrecked. So I've been working out here in the evenings, just to have someone keeping an eye on things."
"Any idea who, or why?"
"It didn't start until after he wrote some letters about the commercial fisheries ... he thinks maybe someone's trying to get back at him about that."
Polly sighed. "Remember when we had to leave Gaea, after that stuff with Kali's father meant that Daddy didn't have privacy for his work? I hope we don't have to move again ..."
Charles looked at her over the rim of his mug. "Yeah, it would be hard for them to start over, but I know Dad's started to look for somewhere else to go. He and Mother were talking about Vancouver, in Canada. Or maybe Vancouver Island. But this isn't completely home for me any more. Is it for you?"
"Maybe not. I wasn't away very long - but I don't feel the same."
"How's school stuff?"
"It's okay. Since "As You Like It" last spring, I've gotten to know some of the kids better. There are a couple of girls who are really into theatre, going into the city to see new plays and stuff ... and a guy who does caricatures ... Some of them are having a bonfire on the beach on Friday; why don't you come?"
"Yeah, maybe." Charles didn't look happy.
"Charles, why did you come home this fall, really?" she asked impulsively.
"Partly it was Kate." Charles' old lopsided grin appeared for a minute. "I don't think Kate and I are meant to live in the same house." She could certainly understand that. "It was really good living with Dennys and Lu while Kate wasn't there - it was like a whole household of adults, we used to eat out a lot and go to chamber music and stuff. I was auditing this biochem course at MIT in the summer session, and that's where I met David ..." Charles' voice wobbled a bit, and he stopped, looking intently at his sister. Polly saw a flush rise from his neck.
Oh. Ohhh. I wonder if he thought I already knew this. "Is David, um, your boyfriend?"
His eyes seemed to relax a bit. "I sure hope so ... We've been together since July. I thought Den and Lu knew what was going on, but I didn't exactly spell it out to them. They were happy for me to be making friends, and they were fine with me staying over at David's after a late show or something ... But then about a month ago, Dennys and Lucy were away at Grand and Grandfather's for a weekend in the country, and David came over, and Kate came home unexpectedly with her friends, and ..." he shuddered. "It was just a bad scene. And Kate's friend's mother called Lucy, and then Lucy freaked, and she wanted to call David's parents so I had to admit that David was actually 22 ..."
"Oh, Charles." She couldn't quite absorb all of this. "But what is he like? Is he a good man?"
"He's a plant biologist - he's going to graduate this winter and then he's going to grad school - and he plays the viola in a student ensemble. He's almost as tall as I am, with dark hair that curls over his collar. He's funny and kind, and he rides an old black bicycle everywhere. I don't know how to describe him. But Mother says that he can come down here for Thanksgiving, so you'll meet him then."
"I'd like that," Polly said. So much had happened to her while Charles was away, it shouldn't be surprising that he was having a whole different happy life too. But somehow she'd expected him to stay her own special brother for a while longer, rather than finding another soulmate. She noticed that her tea was growing cold, and set it down on a lab bench.
"I don't know why I didn't tell you about all this earlier," Charles still looked relaxed. Thinking back, she realized that he had looked hunched and stiff all the time since she'd come home. "I knew about Max and Urs, but then Dad mentioned on the phone that you'd had some trouble with Max, something you wouldn't talk about. And you're so important to me, Polly - I really wanted you and David to meet and like each other - and I just couldn't figure out how to tell you in a letter."
Polly gestured toward the writing pad. "You seem to be doing okay there, writing a lot of letters."
"Yeah, Xan and Den are always on the phone here, plus David's in the lab a lot anyway - and letters last longer than a phone call."
Polly felt grateful that she'd managed to reach Max by phone from Cyprus, and suddenly wished she'd sent them a postcard or two earlier in her trip. "Plus, it's hard to get privacy around here for a conversation." She giggled. "I caught Johnny the other day sitting in the hall taking notes when Xan was on the phone."
"As it is, I just have to deal with the postmistress making arch comments about how I must have a girlfriend up north, to be writing so many letters. Now what about you? Have you met anyone special this year?"
Max was special, she could admit that now. Not special the way he meant, but Max had challenged her and appreciated her and given her some glimpses of creative life that she could savour, without forgetting Max's flaws. Gradually, she found herself talking to Charles the way she'd hoped to talk to Max, about the sense of present history in Athens and about the sense of community at the literacy conference, about Zachary and Omio and even some about Renny. "Renny is, oh, it's not like you and David, he's not the love of my life, but he's another one who's seen me as an adult and not like `the tallest one of that crowd of O'Keefes'. I haven't really had time to talk to him since I got home, but I've left him a message about coming to the bonfire."
"You're not the tallest anymore, Pol", her younger brother reminded her. "And Xan's taller than you too, and Den might be if he would ever stop slouching."
***
While her mother was making lunches Friday morning, Polly asked whether she could take the car that night for the beach bonfire. Mother paused, with the spreader poised over the row of sandwiches. "I don't know ... who are you going with?"
"I don't know - I left a message for Renny; he might be meeting me there. I was just going to go down and hang out and see who's there."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea. Some of those Mulletville boys - your father's been having some trouble lately..." Polly didn't think Mother used to be this over-protective. She felt stifled.
"There's this guy in my class from Mulletville, who's really cute," Peggy sauntered into the kitchen, grabbed an apple from the basket, and bit into it. "He has this tattoo of a starfish on his arm. I was thinking of getting a tattoo. Would you sign for it if I pay for it with my own money?"
"I will not," said her mother briskly. Clearly this was a discussion she and Peggy had had before. "Den! Xan! Time for breakfast!"
"Mo-thurrr. They've both gone early for basketball. They told you that at dinner - someone came and picked them up."
Mother stopped, halfway through cutting the row of sandwiches. Her hair was coming out of its usual daytime bun, and she pushed it off her face, looking tired. "Oh, I don't know. I'll talk to your father when he comes in for his breakfast."
Charles, who had been sitting in an easy chair reading the text for his correspondence course, spoke up. "I'm going with Polly, Mother."
"That would make me feel better about it, you two. We'll see."
Mother thinks we're the same people we were last winter, Polly thought grouchily. But then why wouldn't she - we don't talk to her the way we used to. And I don't think Mother talks to us the way she used to either. I wonder if she's getting tired of doing nothing but manage kids and help Daddy - I can't imagine doing that myself.
Renny had left a message with Charles that he'd meet them at the party and that he was anxious to see her again. Charles had commented on Renny's warm voice, saying he got the same feeling of honour and kindness from Renny that he had from Renny's cousin Simon, all those years ago on the trip to Venezuela. Polly found herself daydreaming about Renny in geography class. In the summer she had known what he meant about her being too young, but she didn't feel too young now. She hoped Renny felt the same way.
***
It was dark when Charles and Polly drove up to the party, having stopped for a mug of hot chocolate at the little diner in Mulletville. They could see the fire from the side of the road, and hear the music from big speakers someone had rigged up from a car. At first Polly didn't see Renny, or the girls who had invited her, or even anyone she knew. And she thought she heard Straw and his friends guffawing over there by the shore as they shoved and threatened to throw each other in the ocean. But as Polly and Charles stood on the periphery, a couple of boys in her class climbed laughing out of the crowd to get beers out of the coolers. They hailed Charles and tossed him a can.
"Here, O'Keefe! Your sister needs one too!"
Charles caught both cans, handed one to Polly, and held the other one expertly away from him as he snapped it open. Another thing she hadn't expected. "Shall I drive home then?" she asked, with an edge in her voice.
"It's okay, Polly, I'm probably not going to finish this one. With cans, no-one can see how slowly you drink - protective coloration. I can drive, if you want."
"It's not like I want to get drunk. But maybe Renny - I figured Renny could drive me home and you could get the car home." They agreed, and moved separately into the circle around the fire. Some of the kids from the yearbook made room for Polly on a fallen log. She saw one of the Mulletville girls tip her head and say something to Charles, and Charles respond. Good, he would be fine.
When she saw Renny in the firelight, standing outside the circle wearing a thick cable-knit sweater and his hair mussed up in front, she felt a wave of affection for him. How could she ever have thought Renny was ordinary and unexciting? She gave a little shiver, put down her mostly-full beer, and stood up, with the girl beside her saying "Is that her boyfriend? He's cute!"
Renny hugged her gently, smelling of soap and campfire smoke, and led her away from the group. "It's so good to see you again, Polly. How are you doing?"
"And you - I know you've had other patients who died before, but Max was ..." Suddenly she couldn't go on. Maybe it was the beer, the darkness, or just Renny, but Polly began to weep, leaning against Renny as they sat on a picnic table beside the road. She felt Renny's shoulders shaking and knew that he was crying too. Oh, it was so good to be here with Renny, who understood.
She found a bandanna in her pocket, wiped her eyes, and saw Renny doing the same with an ironed handkerchief. They smiled at each other, and Renny asked about her trip. Again, she talked about the sites she'd visited, the people she'd met, the conference. As it became chilly away from the fire, Renny suggested going somewhere for a hot drink.
"There's only the diner in Mulletville - and Charles and I were there earlier - but yeah, that would be good."
She decided against going back to the party to find Charles - surely he'd seen Renny arrive and would figure out not to wait for her. They talked easily in the car, about Max and Urs, about Dennys and Dr. Netson and a research project they were going to expand with money from Max's estate, about Sandy and Rhea and their network of connections. In the diner, Polly was in the middle of a funny story about the little kids playing a trick on Xan when she realized that Renny hadn't said much about himself.
She put a hand over his hand resting on the table. "I've missed you, Queron Renier," she said softly. Renny turned his hand up to clasp hers for a few moments. She hoped he was remembering the same things she was.
But then he was speaking again, in his soft accent. "Oh, Polly, the most amazing thing has been happening to me. You remember Nell? Nell and I have been friends since I first came here - not close, but reliable. And then about a month ago - while you were away - we started spending more time together, and we started falling in love. After Jacinta I didn't think I would ever feel that way again about anyone, but oh!"
Polly held her face still. Renny's hand still gripped hers, and her hand felt suddenly cold.
"Polly, I feel so selfish, talking about how happy I am when you're still grieving for Max."
May he keep thinking that's all it is. "No, that's fine. Nell was so kind to me that day." she shuddered. "I'm glad things are working out for you. But I'm really tired. Would you mind driving me home?"
When Renny stopped in the driveway, she already had her sweatshirt in hand, so she could pat him quickly on the shoulder and get out of the car without an awkward moment. Renny offered to walk her to the door but she shrugged him off and headed around the front of the house. The station wagon wasn't home yet, and she didn't want Mother and Daddy to know that she'd come home separately. She walked down the rocky beach to the shoreline, put on her sweatshirt, leaned on a bench Mother had built long ago, and started throwing stones in the water.
Renny and Nell. When she thought about it, she was happy for both of them. But she'd imagined something quite different ... just like with Omio in Osia Theola. Was there something wrong with her? Or maybe this was what Sandy had meant, that when your heart was thawed you were open, sometimes to hurt and sometimes to joy. She picked up a few more stones to throw. A couple of them felt rough in her hand among all the wave-smoothed stones, one catching on the skin at the base of her thumb. She couldn't see them clearly in the dark, so she stuck them in her pocket meaning to look at them later, and put her scraped hand in her mouth.
Polly headed back to the house, hoping that Charles was having a good time at the party and planning to slip in without waking anyone. But as she neared the building, the driveway lights went on, her parents rushed outside talking in worried voices.
"Who's there? Is that you, Polly?" her father called out sharply.
"Yes, it's me, Daddy. Renny just dropped me off - Charles is coming with the car in a little while."
"No, he's not. Charles is in Cowpertown hospital. He's been beaten up," said Daddy, opening the pickup truck door.
"What?" she gasped.
"The police called. They said they were treating it as a hate crime. Polly, please stay in the house with Xan. We'll call later," her mother said before climbing into the pickup truck.
It had been an awful wait. Xan didn't seem to know much more, and he wasn't a comfort. "What did you leave him alone with those faggot-bashers for? You smell like beer. You better hope Mother and Daddy don't find out you were drinking." It was useless trying to explain to Xan. So she tidied the living room, making neat stacks of the magazines and books that everyone left around the homey space. After far too long, Daddy called from the hospital, to say that Charles had stitches on his face and was having an operation on his spleen, and that they were going to stay overnight with him.
Xan went to bed, but Polly curled up on the couch with a throw rug, drowsing and watching dawn creep over the sea. Rosy was up early as usual. Polly got her some breakfast and settled her in a big chair with a book. She reached into her pocket and caught her finger again on one of the sharp rocks she'd brought home the night before. By the morning light, she could see that they looked different from most of the smooth grey stones on the beach, with streaks of red and pink running through them. Maybe the two of them had once been one rock? But no, they didn't quite seem to fit together. Two misfits, she thought. Like me and Charles.
When her parents came home mid-morning, Daddy had been stern. "Polly, we give you freedom because we trust you to take care of yourselves and each other."
Mother had been crying. She didn't like seeing Mother cry. "I don't know whether we can trust you now. You should have known that Charles wasn't safe alone with those Mulletville boys."
"Mother, you have to trust us! You trusted us when we were away - Charles was in Boston, I was across the world - you can't expect us to revert to being little kids again just because we're within your sight!"
Daddy had a hand on Mother's shoulder. "Polly's got a point, Meg. Polly and Charles have been dealing with adult problems for a while now - we've got to give them the space to do it."
"That's it - I need some space. I love you both - I love all of you - but it's hard to live here together again."
Mother was calming down. "Well, it's hard for us to let you alone, when awful things might happen, like Charles ... I don't think I'd be ready for you to be on your own."
"What about together? Charles and I could live together somewhere?"
"Charles won't be well for a while. And you're well ahead in school - you should be fine for college scholarships whatever you do this year. What about Grand and Grandfather?"
"You mean live with them?"
"When Charles first went to Dennys and Lucy, Grand said that she wished she could have your company for a year or two. But I couldn't bear the idea of both of you being gone, and I counted on you so much - so I didn't even tell you about the suggestion."
"That would be okay. Would I have to go to another high school?"
"No, if Grandfather and Grand are willing, I think they could probably give you enough to think about by themselves. What do you think, Calvin?"
Daddy nodded. "I think that would be good for everyone. Shall we call them now?"
***
Once the decision had been made and Grand and Grandfather had repeated their warm welcomes, Polly was relieved - and quickly ashamed of that. Was she going to make a habit of running away? Running from Max, running from Straw, from Zachary, from Renny, and now running from Charles? Before she could talk herself out of it, she went to the phone in the hall and called the hospital. Charles was asleep, they told her, but she could come in in an hour or so.
She knocked at the door of the lab. "Come in," her father's voice called.
He was sitting in an old wooden desk chair, feet on the rungs of her mother's stool, leaning back. Daddy looks old, she thought. His thin face looked dry, after a career of fieldwork in sea air. Could he cope with starting over again at his age? She couldn't quite remember how old he was.
"What's up?" her mother asked. Polly guessed she'd interrupted something - maybe they were talking about her.
"Oh, I was just thinking, can I take the car to go visit Charles?"
"That's a good idea. I've laid out some books for him on his bed, and you might take him another set of pyjamas and his sweat suit." Her mother looked relieved to have practical errands for her. "We've been talking about making some other changes, too, Polly." For an awful moment, she was afraid her mother meant getting divorced. But then she went on to say that they'd decided to wrap up Daddy's work here and move.
"Charles said you were thinking about somewhere in Canada? Will you start another lab there?"
"No," her father smiled. "Not right away, at least. Your mother has been patient long enough, and now it's her turn. She's been offered a doctoral fellowship in Vancouver, so we'll move there with the younger kids. I've got some writing to do, but this move is for your mother. I'll do most of the kid-wrangling, and more of the cooking than I do now. It will be an adventure for both of us."
***
Charles was sitting up in a chair looking out the window, IV pump behind him. He looks like Daddy, she thought, taking in the sticking-up red hair that needed a wash, and the stoop to his shoulders. Surgical tape covered lumps of stitches on his cheekbone, scarily close to his right eye. "Hey, Polly. I hope you've brought me something to read."
She put the books on his table and bent to give him a quick hug. "I'm so sorry - I never should have taken off."
"Hey, it's not you. It would have happened anyway, sooner or later, with those guys. The cops took them all away, and I mentioned to them that there were fingerprints on file from the last break-in in the lab, so maybe they'll get charged with that, too."
"So - what did happen?"
"Oh, I was talking to this girl in my music class about concerts in Boston and here. Straw and his friend came along - they were pretty drunk - and started making comments about faggot music. I ignored them, but the girl was telling them they just didn't know anything, there were lots of men in orchestras ... So then Straw's friend Bud, the guy whose mother is the postmistress, he pipes up and says that I am all secretive about all this mail I send, and Straw goes `Yeah, it's probably his boyfriend'. And I was just so fed up with all this crap that I said `And if it is? You got a problem with that?" and they started pushing me around, and also saying stuff about Dad ratting out the fish plant and them getting laid off after the inspectors shut things down.
"So after a while I figured I was going to get it anyway, so I just punched Bud in the mouth. And someone - maybe both of them - threw me down and I hit my face on a rock I guess". He touched the bandage on his face. "And then they started kicking me, and some girl was screaming, and some other people were pulling them off, and then the cops came." Charles shrugged. "It's okay. It could have been worse. I'm still glad I hit him though."
"I shouldn't have taken off."
"I saw you go off with Renny. I was glad - I thought maybe you had someone for you like I have David."
"No, I don't. I thought I might, but ... no." She reached into her jacket pocket, where she'd put the rocks. "I found these rocks on the beach last night. They're not from here, are they?"
Charles reached for one of them. "No, they don't look like the others. Ouch, this one's got a sharp corner! But they're pretty."
"That's what I thought. Sandy called rocks like this accidentals - like a vagrant in biology, something appearing outside its normal range. They're kind of like me and you around here - rough edged, catching on things, taking risks and exposing our hearts." She hoped this wasn't too mushy for Charles, who still looked like he was in some discomfort, but he was nodding in agreement.
"Yeah, that's the thing. If you don't take risks you don't get hurt, but if you don't take risks nothing good can happen either."
"Why don't you keep that one and I'll keep this one. Mother says that you'll probably go back to Dennys' and Lucy's after you're recovered?" He nodded. "And I'm going to go stay with the Murry grandparents now, and the rest of them are moving to Canada. So I guess we couldn't go back to the way things were before, even if we wanted to."
"Do you want to?" Charles asked, looking at her closely.
"Nooo, I guess not. But now I want us to keep in better touch. And we won't be that far apart - maybe I can come down and meet your David."
"I'd like that," Charles smiled. He turned one rock in his hand, as Polly held up the other one.
***
Polly shifted in her seat, and peered out the train window into the dark. Behind her, she could hear a couple of older women chatting about the shopping and Broadway theatre they were looking forward to. She was going to change trains in New York City, and she'd call Grand from there with an idea of when to meet her in Boston. The train seemed to be late already, but she didn't want to trouble the conductor.
The conductor was moving through the car smiling at people now. A young man a few rows ahead of her caught the conductor's attention and he bent over to answer. Polly heard him say "Yes, Mr. Eddington?" Eddington. That was a familiar name. Could it be ... Adam?
Would it be embarrassing to talk to him? What if he didn't recognize her? Or what if he did? That would mean she hadn't changed much since she was twelve, and that would be even more embarrassing. She touched the lumpy rock in her pocket and stood up.
As she walked up the aisle of the swaying train, she couldn't see his face clearly. But the textbook open on his lap looked like biology.
"Um, excuse me?"
"Yes," he looked up, with a hand on the book to keep his place. "Are you Adam Eddington? I'm Polly O'Keefe ...."
"Wow, so you are! How wonderful! Do you want to sit down?" Adam cleared his things off the aisle seat and beamed at her.
Polly sat. The rock caught at her thigh through her jeans, and she was glad of its reminder. She didn't know how things would work out with her grandparents, with Charles, with Zach, or with Adam. And that was okay. Thank you, accidental rock. Thank you, Max.
***