Summer Fridays

Chapter 10

SUNDAY, JULY 4

“All right, let me just ask and get it out of the way,” Kathy warned. “When are you two having babies?”

Sawyer blinked dumbly at her future mother-in-law.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised!” Kathy chastised, smiling. She patted at her perfectly pinned blond French twist with an absent-minded hand.

“Hey, Mom,” Charles objected. “Mind if we get married first?”

“Of course, of course.” Kathy waved him off. “But after the wedding, that’ll be the only question the girls will be asking down at the club. And I can’t wait to meet my future grandbabies!”

“Well, the future will have to wait a bit, Mom.”

“How long is ‘a bit’?”

Charles scowled in response.

Kathy nudged Sawyer with one shoulder and leaned in conspiratorially. “You know…if you started trying now, no one would be the wiser if you two were carrying around a little secret on the big day…”

Sawyer’s eyes went wide, and Kathy misread the somewhat terrified expression on her future daughter-in-law’s face.

“Oh!” Kathy said. “Did I stumble upon something by accident? Could it be? Are you two already…?”

“Mom!” Charles outright scolded. “No. We’re not pregnant!”

“Oh, but you’ll be so happy when you are,” Kathy cooed, insistent. “Because then the pressure is off, and all you have to do is pick out a christening gown and a boarding school—right, Ed?”

Charles’s father, Edward, responded by flagging down the waitress.

“Another one of these?” He smiled politely at the waitress and pointed to his Bloody Mary. “Thank you.”

They were having brunch at one of Charles’s favorite spots on the Upper West Side, a restaurant that featured bottomless Mimosas and a glassed-in patio in the back. He’d long ago learned the key to his parents’ happiness was a trendy brunch spot with an outdoor space that gave them the illusion they were still in Connecticut, coupled with an unceasing fount of booze.

Ed and Kathy were in town visiting for the Fourth of July weekend. Charles had miraculously taken a rare Friday afternoon off to join Sawyer in meeting his parents when they got off the train at Grand Central. Saturday had been spent making the rounds of the compulsory “cultural sites” in the city—mostly museums and restaurants that Kathy felt were an important rite of passage when it came to “being in New York.” Now, Sunday morning, they’d happily tucked into brunch. Later that evening, they had plans to reconvene for their official celebration of the holiday; Charles had made reservations for a catered yacht party that promised to deliver great views of the fireworks over the East River.

Sawyer marveled silently at Kathy’s words. Christening gowns and boarding schools. One thing Sawyer knew for certain: she and Kathy were two different species of creature. Kathy was always dressed to the nines, in what Sawyer thought of as country club chic, and talked about things like cotillions and “coming out” as a “deb.” She lived for gossip and material pleasures, but somehow, she was never nasty about it.

In fact, despite how little they had in common, Sawyer genuinely adored her future mother-in-law. She was intrigued with the way that Kathy and Sawyer’s own mother, Carol, were like completely opposite sides of the same maternal coin. Take books, for instance. Sawyer could always count on her mother to have read all the classics (major and minor, marginalized and newly discovered alike), and to offer a deep, highly academic critique of any long-ago-written book Sawyer wished to talk about…but Carol had no interest in the novels that topped the New York Times bestseller list. Kathy, on the other hand, devoured the latter with her Chardonnay-fueled, twice-monthly book club, and was only too happy to gossip with Sawyer about the characters as though they were every bit as real as the neighbors or someone she’d met down at the country club.

Kathy might let her eyes drift down to Sawyer’s feet and say things like, Oh my—we really need to go shoe shopping! Or even blurt out in the middle of a meal, Let me give you the card of the woman who cuts my hair. I think she could really help you! But Kathy also said things like, Working with writers to publish their novels! What a wonder! I brag to my friends about how smart you are; they all want to meet you. It was impossible to dislike Kathy when she said things like that—things that Sawyer had all but given up on hoping her own mother might say.

Sawyer had come to realize that it was a question of focusing on different things; Kathy often focused on things that were considered more superficial, but beneath it all, her intentions were pure. Right now, Kathy might be yearning for a grandchild simply in order to pick out a Jacadi christening gown, or boast about nabbing a spot at Deerfield or Groton—or even simply so she might have a cute photo at the ready in her purse to show people and have them exclaim, How is it possible? You’re too young to be a grandmother! But Sawyer knew if a baby were to actually arrive, Kathy would love it fiercely. For all her cloying, materialistic snobbery, her heart was genuinely warm.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook just because you dodged my question, Ed!” Kathy said now to her husband. “Tell Charles and Sawyer what you think.”

“What I think?” Ed teased. “Or what you think I should think?”

Kathy sniffed. “I don’t see the difference.”

Sawyer honestly couldn’t tell whether or not Kathy was joking. She glanced at Charles with a mixture of amusement and alarm, but, meeting Sawyer’s eye, he only shrugged.

Ed sighed, carefully composing his answer.

“I think Charles and Sawyer have their hands full planning a wedding, not to mention just making ends meet in the city as a young couple,” Ed said in a gentle tone. He patted Kathy’s hand as if to offer her some of his share of patience. “And on top of that, Charles has been assigned to work on a big merger case—that has to be making things a little bit tricky for them just now.”

“Actually, it has—”

“It’s been totally fine—”

Sawyer and Charles responded at the same time, halting and locking eyes. Ed glanced between them, his forehead furrowed with an expression of concern.

“It’s been fine,” Sawyer said, readjusting her words to match Charles’s. “It’s just that…his hours have been crazy. I miss him.”

“It’s romantic, isn’t it?” Kathy cooed, nudging Ed. “To be young again…never wanting to be apart and alone…”

Ed turned and gave Kathy a sweet, close-lipped smile of sympathy. But he seemed distracted, his mind still puzzling out the exchange between Charles and Sawyer.

Kathy brightened as a new thought occurred to her, and she turned back to Sawyer.

“You know when you never feel alone? When you become a mother.”

Charles groaned. “Oh, God—Mom. Seriously!”

“But it’s true!” Kathy intoned plaintively, as if to say, Don’t shoot the messenger!

Charles laughed and reached for Sawyer’s hand. He gave it a warm squeeze under the table.

“Let’s talk about something else, why don’t we?” he suggested.

Ed cleared his throat and brought up the short Warhol film they’d seen at the Guggenheim the day before.

As brunch carried on, Kathy managed to work in the subject of babies no fewer than four more times.

Once their brunch plates had been cleared and they’d all drunk their fill of Mimosas and Bloody Marys, Ed and Kathy went to use the restroom while Charles and Sawyer strolled to the front of the restaurant and waited outside on the sidewalk.

“Sorry about my mom and all that baby talk,” Charles said, affecting a kind of overly polite, endearing sheepishness, like they were still on their first date, getting to know each other. “She means well,” he added.

“Of course,” Sawyer agreed. “Kathy’s great. Always…very Kathy.”

She hesitated.

“It’s just…I don’t know,” Sawyer added. “Her whole thing about babies. It’s kind of a moot point.”

Charles frowned. “What do you mean? You don’t want kids?”

“I do. Someday.”

“Of course! That’s what I meant,” Charles rushed to agree. “We’re on the same page. Someday. Not now!” He grinned and chuckled, relaxed. But after a moment’s pause, he asked, “But ‘moot point’? What did you mean by that?”

Sawyer swallowed. “I just mean…well, we’re not in any risk of having one right now. You’re never home.”

Charles’s shoulders slumped. He looked cranky—irritated, even. “C’mon—this again? You know this case—”

“I know,” Sawyer replied, cutting him off. “I’m just saying…we don’t spend time together anymore. Time we would need to spend if…if we were going to get pregnant.”

“Sawyer…” Charles started in a low voice.

“I’m lonely, Charles.”

“Part of this is just because Autumn’s away in Japan. You probably wouldn’t notice how busy I was if she were around this summer.”

It was the opening of an argument.

“Still—” Sawyer started to say.

Charles opened his mouth to cut her off, but froze upon hearing the sound of a man clearing his throat.

They turned to see Charles’s father, Ed, standing on the sidewalk, having emerged from the restaurant’s entrance.

“Hey, Dad,” Charles greeted his father. “Sawyer and I were just saying how nice it is today. Maybe instead of taking a cab back to the Plaza, it would be nice to walk through the park.”

Ed stared at them, wordless, clearly troubled by what he’d just overheard.

“The park?” a feminine voice chimed in.

They all turned to see Kathy joining them, her lipstick freshly applied from her visit to the ladies’ room.

“Ooo, that sounds like the perfect way to burn off that French toast I never should have ordered in the first place!”

Unfortunately, as lovely and as expensive as they were, Kathy’s shoes were not made for walking the distance necessary to traverse the park from the Upper West Side to where the Plaza Hotel awaited on the park’s southeast corner.

At the first hint that his wife’s overpriced shoes had begun to pinch her feet, Ed flagged down two ornate horse-drawn hansom cabs that came clop-clop-clopping by.

After a quick negotiation, Sawyer found herself climbing up into the open car of a horse-drawn carriage.

“How about you two go in that one,” Ed said to Kathy and Charles. “Sawyer and I will take this one, and we’ll race you.”

He winked. Ed had arranged for the drivers to take them on a pleasantly slow, scenic tour of the park before dropping them off in front of the Plaza.

Each carriage seated four, so hiring both carriages and splitting into two groups wasn’t exactly necessary. Sawyer couldn’t quite guess why Ed might want to ride with her, but the arrangement suited her just fine, and Charles and Kathy seemed equally happy with it. She settled into her seat—a series of well-worn, lumpy velvet cushions loosely positioned on a lacquered wooden bench—and peered over her shoulder to wave at Charles in the next carriage. The buggy rocked on its springy shocks as Ed climbed in and sat opposite Sawyer.

The driver gave a smart snap of the reins in the air, and the horse set off at a leisurely walking pace. As the carriage trundled along under the riotous green leaves of the park’s lush summer canopy, Sawyer felt her brain slipping into a pensive reverie.

“How are things, Sawyer?”

Sawyer snapped to attention to see Ed smiling kindly at her. The horse and carriage was slowly ambling toward the little brick overlook by Bethesda Fountain. They had fallen out of reasonable earshot of the horse and carriage carrying Charles and Kathy.

“How are things, really?” Ed pressed.

“Oh,” Sawyer said, flustered by his penetrating concern. “They’re fine. I mean, they’re great—Charles and I are so grateful for the wedding help.” She paused, then added, “Kathy is a godsend when it comes to all the planning. She’s amazing, truly.”

“She is, she is,” Ed agreed, but it sounded like there was something bigger gnawing at him. The carriage continued to trundle along. He sighed.

“Look,” Ed said now, “I know it may seem like you and Charles have different priorities right now. Or maybe it seems like his priorities are out of whack, and are taking him away from your time together, as a couple.”

Sawyer didn’t say anything, taken off guard that Ed was getting this personal.

“Charles can be like his mom,” Ed continued. “A bit materialistic, really.”

Ed coughed, trying to hide a laugh at Sawyer’s attempt to hide her reaction.

“But they’re also the same because all they really want is reassurance that the people they love are going to have all the best things in life.”

“They both have truly good hearts; I understand that,” Sawyer said quietly.

“I believe you do,” Ed replied. He held Sawyer in his gaze. “I believe you do.”

A moment passed. He cleared his throat again.

“Charles has had to deal with some unexpected changes over the years,” he said.

Sawyer frowned, unsure where this was going.

“Throughout Charles’s entire childhood, we were…I don’t know how else to put it, but ‘well-to-do.’ Kath and I both had a bit of family money, and I was running my own investment firm,” Ed said. There was no bragging in his voice, and Sawyer understood immediately that there was far more to the story Ed was telling her now. “Charles and his younger brother came into a world where they were not only safe; they could have anything they ever wanted,” Ed continued.

It sounded less like a point of pride and more like a confession, and in the next sentence, Sawyer understood why.

“But a few years back, I got caught up investing in a friend’s company. It seemed—at the time—like the big one, the one you don’t want to miss. All of our friends were investing in these amazing hedge funds and start-ups and making a killing. I thought I was being an old fuddy-duddy not to. I thought I should get with it, and not get left behind.”

Ed paused, shook his head, and swallowed.

“Anyway,” he continued. “In one fell swoop, it was all gone. I was a fool, driven by idiotic hubris. A more prudent person would have held something back. They wouldn’t have left their son suddenly in shock and struggling to make tuition during the final semester of his senior year at Harvard.”

A weary expression settled on Ed’s face. He rubbed his forehead, pinching his thumb and index finger at the bridge between his eyes.

Sawyer’s jaw had gone completely slack. “Charles?” she murmured. “He…? I had no idea…”

Ed nodded. “More often than not, I’m too ashamed to really dwell on it, but I have to say, I’m proud of him—he finished his senior year, he put himself through law school. He figured it all out, clever boy.”

Sawyer thought back over her relationship with Charles. It made more sense now—why she wasn’t the only one with student loans, why together they’d perfected the art of slurping up Top Ramen in front of a Blockbuster movie, why they’d skipped skiing trips to Vermont with his friends, Charles rolling his eyes and suggestively saying he’d rather stay home (which she’d taken as a compliment).

“I’m sure you’ve wondered why—especially after moving here to New York—we haven’t helped you more,” Ed said.

Sawyer was quiet, thinking. Had she wondered?

“You don’t owe us anything,” Sawyer said to Ed now. “I don’t expect it, and neither does Charles.”

“You don’t expect it,” Ed confirmed, “because you’re a good person. And Charles doesn’t expect it because he knows there isn’t much we can give. Kathy and I are living a different life now: one where our stake in the future is mainly rented and leased, one where we live on credit and a lot of illusions—illusions that make her happy.”

Sawyer raised her eyes to meet Ed’s, surprised anew.

“Kathy doesn’t know you’ve lost your savings?” Sawyer asked.

Ed chuckled morosely and sighed, the weight of the conversation still upon him.

“It’s hard to know for sure sometimes,” he admitted. “But Kathy is a very smart woman—I’m sure you’d agree. I’d be surprised if she didn’t know. But I think she is much happier to pretend. And, to be honest, maybe I am, too.”

Wow, was all Sawyer’s brain could silently comment.

“Listen,” Ed said. “I see how you’re looking at me now. And I didn’t tell you this to shock you or scare you.”

“Oh my God. Our wedding!” Sawyer gasped before she could stop herself. She clapped a hand over her mouth, then let it drop in her lap, numb with the realization. “The expenses, the deposits alone…!”

Ed shook his head and waved her concerns away.

“Please,” he insisted. “Kathy wants those things. It’s part of…of everything that matters to her.”

“Oh, but to think of how much it’s costing, given your situation,” Sawyer protested. She glanced at him, deeply apologetic. “I didn’t have any idea…”

“That was part of the point,” Ed said.

Sawyer took this in.

“Sawyer, I’m just so grateful that you’ve been so accommodating and gracious in all of this.”

“In all of what?” she asked, bewildered.

“Letting Kathy have so much of a say in the wedding planning. And…I sincerely hope you haven’t felt rushed at all.”

“What do you mean?” She frowned, suddenly overcome by a feeling of uncertainty again.

Ed sighed.

“They’re each other’s favorites, you know—Charles and Kathy,” he said. “She’s always wanted to be able to plan every detail of his wedding, and invite all her friends, bask in that sense of pride…And Charles…Charles wants his mother’s happiness. When I came to him and told him that we still had enough in credit to cover the kind of wedding Kathy wanted, but that we might not have it in a few years’ time…that might have nudged him along a little.”

Ed read Sawyer’s surprised and slightly horrified expression and hurried to add, “No, no, please don’t take that to mean more than it does. Charles has always said that, from the moment he met you, there was never any doubt he wanted to marry you. So when I say ‘nudge,’ I only mean in terms of the timing—understand?”

Sawyer couldn’t speak. She only blinked at Ed. She didn’t know how to feel; her mind was busy revisiting the night of Charles’s proposal, and the morning after, when he’d surprised her with his desire to set a date for the wedding within a year’s time. She’d been so flattered by his eagerness to rush. Now, she felt her cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. She’d fooled herself into believing what she wanted to believe.

The horse and carriage continued to clop along, the buggy’s rhythmic rocking like a boat drifting on a sloshing ocean. The driver had finally turned south again, toward the zoo and the little carnival of rides set up in Wollman Rink, and eventually the Plaza Hotel, where Ed and Kathy were staying.

“I’ll be straight with you, Sawyer,” Ed said. “Whatever Kathy wants, I will always try to give her.”

He paused, then added, “And in his own way, I think that is what Charles is trying to do for you now.”

Sawyer’s frown deepened.

“I’m not saying Charles is in debt or is trying to keep up appearances like we are,” Ed hurried to explain. “I’m saying he already has it in his head that, come hell or high water, he is not going to let it come to that. It’s why he’s putting in the long hours, and why he won’t rest until he moves up at Wexler Gibbons. He’s taking your time together and exchanging it for security, for a future together filled with security. And in some ways, maybe, that’s because of my mistakes.”

Ed paused one more time, looking sad.

“He doesn’t know how precious time is yet. But that’s not his fault. He’s doing what he thinks is best…the only thing he knows how to do.”

The horse and carriage was passing Wollman Rink, steadily moving through the dappled light of the trees. They would arrive at the Plaza soon.

“Why are you telling me this?” Sawyer asked.

“I just want you to understand him,” Ed answered. “It’s so important for the two of you to understand each other. It’s obvious that his overtime is putting a strain on things. I don’t want you to grow apart over this. He’s doing it for your future. He’s going about it all wrong, of course—but he’s doing it for your future.”

Sawyer stared at Ed. There was something powerfully urgent yet frail in his expression. His eyes were pale blue, his brow raised, his skin lined with long years of worry that Sawyer, being so young, knew she couldn’t conceive of yet.

“I respect what you have to say,” she said finally. “Thank you, Ed.”

His eyes grew red and glassy. He reached for her hand and squeezed it, very briefly.

“You’re my family, too, you know,” he said.

Sawyer smiled. “I know,” she replied. But the truth was, she’d only just now discovered it, as the words left her mouth. “I feel the same.”

“Promise me one thing, Sawyer,” Ed said, his voice pleading and his expression serious. “Promise me that, when Charles realizes it was a mistake to let all this time together get away…you’ll be patient with him. You’ll give him a chance to make it up to you.”

Sawyer was quiet.

“Can you promise me that?” Ed prodded.

Sawyer took a breath. “I’ll try.”

A few minutes later, both horse-drawn buggies pulled up in front of the Plaza Hotel, one after the other. All four passengers—first Sawyer and Ed, then Charles and Kathy—climbed out as the carriages rocked and bounced under their weight. Ed reunited with his wife and gave no sign of the conversation he’d just had with Sawyer.

“Well!” Kathy exclaimed. “This has given me a stroke of genius! I knew we were missing something when it came to the wedding, and now I know what it is!”

Sawyer braced herself.

“We need to hire carriages for the wedding!” Kathy decided. “A wedding at the Plaza needs carriages, horses…how did I not think of this before? And just think—they’ll add a charming touch to the photos!”

She glanced around the group of them.

“Won’t they?” she demanded.

Charles and Ed smiled and nodded, silent but affable.

“Oh! I wonder if maybe they can do cushions to match our wedding party colors! Wouldn’t that look super?”

Sawyer listened to Kathy prattle on, freshly aware of the fact that Kathy and Ed could not afford any of these things. Her stomach twisted and she felt a little sick.

“We’d better get back to the room, Kath, if we want to get a nap in before we have to start getting ready for dinner,” Ed urged his wife.

“Oh, of course.”

She leaned over and kissed Charles on the cheek, then Sawyer.

“Remember—the boat leaves at seven,” Charles reminded them. “We’ll swing by to pick you up around six.”

“We’ll be ready, sparklers in hand!” Kathy said, her eyes exuberant.

It was only a temporary goodbye, but Sawyer felt Ed squeeze her like he hadn’t before.

“You’re my family, too,” he repeated, in a low voice only Sawyer could hear.

When he released her, he gazed at her, his eyes full of meaning. She nodded at him.

Then, with Kathy still blowing kisses over her shoulder, Ed and Kathy walked arm in arm under the gilded awning, over the black-and-white checkerboard pavement, up the red-carpeted stairs, and through the brass revolving door…into the expensive hotel that had already been booked for Charles and Sawyer’s wedding.

Charles turned to Sawyer.

“What did my dad talk to you about during the carriage ride?”

Sawyer wanted to tell him, but felt her throat thicken. She needed time—time to think through it all.

“Oh,” Sawyer said reflexively. “You know. Small talk.”

Charles looked unconvinced. “Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

“It’s just…I don’t like not knowing.”

Sawyer felt a rush of anger come over her, remembering everything Ed had just told her. “I don’t either,” she replied, her voice firm.

Charles paused for a minute. He studied her face, puzzled, but seemed to understand it was not the time to push her further. He took a deep breath, then pulled Sawyer toward him and folded her into his arms.

She felt his heart thudding in his chest, the intimate rhythm of his pulse as it always seemed to her—strong, steady, reassuring.

“I’m beat,” he said. “Ready to head home and nap before we do this all over again?”

“Yeah,” Sawyer replied.

They turned and headed in the direction of the nearest subway entrance, holding hands.

Their Fourth of July evening was a success; Kathy was tickled by the yacht, the food, the fireworks, and Ed was predictably tickled by Kathy’s being tickled. Everyone went home with a champagne buzz, and the next morning, Ed and Kathy caught the train back up to Connecticut.

Charles and Sawyer saw them off, then came home and went straight back to bed, drowsily napping the rest of the day away as the summer sunshine streamed in through the windows. It was an afternoon of much-needed respite. But by the time the evening rolled around, Sawyer felt her mind drifting back to the carriage ride with Ed, and everything he had confessed to her.

Was she mad at Charles? She didn’t think so. Or, at least, whenever she started to get angry about it, she could feel herself softening a little when she tried to picture what it must have been like for him to suddenly have the rug ripped out from under him right around the time his college tuition bills had come due. There was something to not wanting to repeat your parents’ traumatic mistakes. The whole world over could relate to that.

It’s so important for the two of you to understand each other, Ed had said.

Maybe her suspicions about Kendra had been one big rush to judgment.

And maybe if she went to Charles now, Sawyer thought, and let him know that Ed had brought her into the circle—that she knew about his family’s financial struggles—they could open back up to each other like they used to. Maybe if she let Charles know that she understood now why he was working so hard to secure his future at Wexler Gibbons, she could also make a case for why there might be alternative choices that could still get them where they wanted to go in life, and allow them to spend a little more time together.

She smiled, buoyed by the thought that they could talk things through.

But when she entered the bedroom, she stopped short.

“Oh, hey,” Charles greeted her as she entered, barely looking up.

“You’re packing your gym bag,” Sawyer observed stiffly.

“Yeah. It was great to see my parents this weekend, but I’m behind on everything.”

“Including the gym,” she observed.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “The gym helps me stay sane.”

Sawyer sat on the bed, pretending leisurely interest in watching him pack. Inwardly, she realized, she had an inexplicable urge to scream, just to get his attention. She felt something in her rib cage clench as she tamped down the urge.

She took a breath and changed the subject.

“I thought we might watch a movie together. Ghost is on NBC tonight.”

“Hmm, sounds sappy,” he said.

She could read the distraction in his face, his eyes moving around the gym bag. His mind elsewhere, contemplating some kind of calculation she wasn’t privy to.

“I’d probably just nod off and annoy you with my snoring,” he decided aloud. “But you can watch if you like. Mind keeping the volume down?” He put his gym bag on the floor by the door, then went to the bathroom, flipped on the light, and set about brushing his teeth.

Sawyer stared at him for a minute, dismayed.

Then she wandered back toward the living room and kitchen.

She turned on the computer—more out of habit than anything else. She felt like “talking” to someone. She began an email to Autumn, pouring her heart out. But after five minutes of typing, she deleted most of what she’d written. It felt like a violation to tell Autumn about Ed and Kathy’s financial situation. And Sawyer wasn’t ready to share her suspicions about Charles and Kendra with her best friend. She knew how protective Autumn could be; there was a good chance Sawyer’s suspicions were wrong, and she wanted Autumn to genuinely like the man she planned to marry.

Instead, she found herself writing something totally unexpected—an email full of small talk, telling Autumn all about how she’d met up with Nick the other day, and how, to her surprise, she’d had a good time.

She clicked send, then logged off.

She wandered into the living room and, not really knowing what else to do, put on the movie she’d suggested to Charles.

It was sappy, of course.

And yet, as Sawyer watched Demi Moore ramble around an unrealistically enormous SoHo loft, haunted by the ghost of Patrick Swayze, there was something familiar about it: the idea that someone you loved could be so present in your life one day, and the next day steadily disappear into a series of small hauntings…your time together reduced to echoes of memory, the divide between the two of you evolving into different realms.

The movie ended with Patrick Swayze’s spirit going into the light, Demi Moore sad but at peace. Sawyer raised the remote and clicked off the TV, then dropped her arm. She sat quietly for a moment. She could just make out the low buzz of Charles’s snoring from the dark cavern of the bedroom.