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 Think! Mrs. Edwards commands.
 She is, Mr. Edwards says, putting a hand over his wife s fist
on the table.
 You should have kept your eye on her, Mrs. Edwards snaps.
 It s what we paid you for. Her face appears to have closed in on
itself, forming a neat square with squat lines where the eyes and
mouth should be.
 Mom, Ben says.
 Every minute? Jeff asks.
 Well, I find it very difficult to believe that my daughter could
have struck up a relationship with someone without Sydney s
noticing.
For a moment, the accusation lies on the table  unanswered,
undefended  while behind them the wood-and-brass barom-
eter goes on recording atmospheric pressure.
 What I don t get, Mr. Edwards says,  is why Julie didn t say
where she was going. Why the secrecy?
 Because you d have gone and gotten her, Ben says simply,
 and then brought her home.
 Oh, I hate to even say this, Mr. Edwards suggests, putting his
head in his hands,  but do you suppose she was forced to write
the note?
Sydney, who has the note in front of her, reads it again. Most
of the letters are blurred and wavy, but knowing what it says
makes it possible to decipher it.
134
Body Surfing
 This is Julie, Sydney says.  I don t just mean her handwrit-
ing. This is how she would write. What she would say. Even the
misspelling of my name.
 So, you knew her well enough to know how she wrote,
Mrs. Edwards accuses, all but Frisbee-ing the words across the
table,  but you didn t know her well enough to know she was
about to run away?
The woman s anger makes her head shake.
Sydney attempts an explanation.  After that first incident, there
was no reason to think  
 What incident? asks Mrs. Edwards, sharp-eared even in
distress.
Too late, Sydney remembers that Mrs. Edwards doesn t know
of Julie s drunken binge.
 One night, two weeks ago, Jeff offers quickly,  Julie came
home late and she d been drinking.
 Drinking what?
 We re not sure.
 She was drunk, you mean?
 Yes.
 Why wasn t I told?
No one answers the woman.
 You all knew? Mrs. Edwards asks, her voice rising.  Mark,
you knew?
With reluctance, Mr. Edwards looks his wife in the eye. Syd-
ney can see how much the effort costs him.  Yes, I did, he says.
 Sydney came to tell me one night when you were out. (Not
quite the truth, Sydney thinks. Mrs. Edwards was lying on the
sofa, reading.)
135
Anita Shreve
Mrs. Edwards presses her lips together and then lets out a
small explosion of air.  I do not understand why I, her mother,
wasn t told. And I don t understand something else. Why  she
snatches the note from Sydney   why does Julie thank Sydney?
Thank her for what?
 I think for the   Sydney begins, and then she has a thought.
 Did the police go into Julie s room? she asks.
 They did.
But they might not have known what to look for. She rises
from the table.  I ll be right back, she says.
She leaves the kitchen and heads up the stairs. The door to Julie s
room is open. Sydney steps inside and scans the contents.
Light-headed, she reaches behind herself for the bed and sits
at its edge. For the first time, she feels the full blow of Julie s dis-
appearance. She wraps her arms around her stomach.
Images of Julie laughing in the front seat of a car entangle
themselves with recent memories of Jeff laughing on the floor
of the gazebo. At the urgency, the absurdity of passion, now
fulfilled. A grown man and woman fumbling through wet
clothes to make each other naked. She remembers Jeff s cheek-
bone pressed hard into hers. Something he said into her neck
that she couldn t quite hear. The exquisite tenderness with which
he covered her. As he pulled her close to him, her slicker released
a rivulet of water that ran down her neck and along her col-
larbone. She shivered. Her feet were cold. She could feel the
rain on her bare skin. She brought them up and tucked them
between Jeff s thighs. He reached down with his hand and held
them there.
* * *
136
Body Surfing
 This should have been such a happy night, Jeff says from the
doorway.
Sydney tries to smile.
He joins Sydney on the bed, the weight of the two bodies
making a deep V in the soft mattress.  It was impetuous what I
did, he says.  Even careless. But I felt very certain.
Sydney nods.
 What do you feel now? he asks, and Sydney can hear the
tiny hitch in his breath. Is he nervous about her answer?
She takes his hand so that he will understand that she is still
with him.  I feel sad, she says.  Julie s really gone.
 How do you know?
 She s taken the canvases. She s taken the paints.
Jeff turns his head in the direction of the corner where the
easel should be. She can feel his sigh in his shoulders.
She releases his hand and walks to the window. Through the
glass, she sees a sunny afternoon, Julie standing in the water.
Sydney snags the thing that was in Julie s note, the thing that
flitted across her brain.
I M OK.
A young woman in a wet suit catching a wave.
 What is it? Jeff asks.
 I think I know who Julie ran off with, Sydney says.
 Who is he? Jeff asks from the bed.
 It might not be a he, Sydney says, turning.
137
2003
k
A greenish sheen on the surface. The water thick and jellied.
Overhead, yellow clouds trap the heat. Sydney waits through a
succession of waves, picking the tallest one. Her timing is off.
She cannot get her rhythm.
Tonight and tomorrow, guests will arrive at the beach house. There
will be a caterer, a girl named Harriet from the village who does
 this sort of thing, though surely there cannot be enough wed-
dings in the village and in the beach houses, Sydney thinks, to keep
a caterer in business. Harriet must cook for cocktail parties as well,
the ones at which spouses sometimes do not speak to each other.
The weekend weather will be iffy, the word batted around like
a badminton birdie. Sydney hears it from the upstairs hallway,
from the kitchen. Beyond that, no one is willing to say.
If the weather is simply iffy, the wedding will be held on the
porch. If worse, the ceremony will take place in the living room, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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