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Show Moon - 91 face them. The fire was at her back. Someone had thrown in a bundle of twigs to start up a new log and it flared up hot and noisy. Ruth sat in an armchair and had taken out knitting needles and was casting on stitches. She was wearing glasses, a remarkable concession to the physical. Gloria and Michael were on the sofa next to Esther. Tommy sat on the arm of the sofa, staring at the bottom of his coffee cup. Alice sat on a footstool and reached down to lift the edge of the braided rug, as if she were studying how she might make one of her own. Her husband Paul sat stiffly in a straight-backed chair. James was perched on the other arm of the sofa looking unhappy, clearly wanting to be someplace else. The boys and Alice's girls went into the kitchen, rummaged around, came out carrying jars to put fireflies in. Alice flicked her hand to them and they were gone, the back door slamming after them. Joy sat on the floor near her mother's feet and took in the effect of all this. They looked like seals on a jumble of rocks, assembled for some ancient purpose that had been decreed before there were words. What, she wondered, had Esther been talking about? Was there a truth that no one was telling? Was her mother going to die? This new thought tipped her forward with a sudden astonishing shock of grief. She knew then that no matter how she'd tried, she'd never really torn her mother from her heart. Alice's husband pushed at his throat with his thumb, then raised his eyes to Anne and said, "We're sorry." Anne sat up straight in her rocking chair, her eyes darted to his, startled, birdlike. "For what?" Joy was embarrassed, as ashamed for her as she was for herself. Paul put his hand over his face as he realized his mistake. James got up and went to the |