July 8th, 1984—Guildford, Engnd

  Ed answered the front door and Ruth Lawson immediately recognized the music pying on his expensive turntable.

  “Bill Withers?” she asked. “OK, what’s wrong?”

  He accepted the rge bowl filled with sad, and a kiss on the lips, before answering.

  “Nothing. Why would something be wrong?”

  “Because you always listen to Bill Withers when something is wrong. Something retionship reted.”

  She followed him to the kitchen, accompanied by the lyrics of Hope She’ll Be Happier.

  “So what is it?” she asked again, her smile breaking into a sly grin. “I know it’s not me. I’m a gift to mankind.”

  The smile on his much younger face made her less concerned, but she still knew he had something on his mind.

  “Maggie and Peter will be here for the party. Brings up old stuff. That’s all.”

  Now she understood.

  “I thought it might be new stuff you were worried about,” she said as she put her hand on his smoother, wrinkle free face.

  They were almost exactly the same age. She’d thought they made a good team—a good couple. Now he looked like her son instead of her…they’d never decided on a bel. At their age it wasn’t important. She couldn’t decide now if it was even less important or more.

  “No. I don’t feel guilty about that. It wasn’t something I had any say in. No one did. It was an accident. But the other stuff, that was all me.”

  Ruth shook her head. “Not all you. Not by a long chalk. Try and remember that.”

  They were standing too close to be simply friends when Roz appeared, her hair still damp from the shower. She stopped her progress as if she’d run into a barrier.

  “Sorry. I heard voices. I didn’t…”

  Christ.

  Ed smiled as Ruth made a discreet movement to widen the space between them. “Roz, this is Ruth. Ruth, this is my daughter Rosalind.”

  The sound of the doorbell took Ed out of the kitchen—a bit faster than necessary. He returned a minute ter with Jeff and Joanne Weatherby.

  “Are we having a faculty meeting and no one told me?” Jeff asked.

  “Only if no one told me either,” Ruth replied as I’m Her Daddy began to py.

  “I love this song,” Jo Weatherby said, “it’s been ages since I’ve heard it.”

  “It’s been ages since you’ve seen this one here too,” Ed said as he nodded to Roz.

  Ed’s home continued to fill up in a simir series of fits and starts. Ed changed the album on the turntable, choosing something less likely to send everyone into a depression.

  “We have a problem,” Ed announced ter to Aric and Delphine as the Parisian checked on her contribution to the menu. “I forgot lighter fluid for the charcoal.”

  “Do you have one of those electric starters?” Aric asked.

  “No. I could run out and get fluid, but it’s a twenty minute round trip.”

  Delphine looked at Aric. She tilted her head to one side and gave him that half lidded stare he recognized immediately.

  “Fine,” he said before walking out onto Ed’s patio. He reached into the pyramid of charcoal, his hand passing through the dark bricks without disturbing them. He withdrew it roughly ten seconds ter, still glowing, but free of bck dust. in the center of the pile was a core of glowing bricks which quickly shared their excess of energy with their neighbors.

  “Thanks, mate,” Ed said with a nod, as if Aric had loaned him a book of matches.

  “Happy to help,” Aric replied as he wiped imaginary dust from his hands. When he turned to go back into the kitchen he noticed Roz staring at him. He was about to say something when he realized that it was pointless.

  In for a penny, in for a pound I guess.

  The weather was warm, but not unbearable. Jeff and Ruth had each brought a patio umbrel that could be driven into the soil of Ed’s back yard, along with an assortment of chairs. There was enough shade for everyone, though they would all be eating off of ptes banced on their ps.

  “Just like it should be,” Carol said as she nodded approvingly. “It’s not the fourth of July if you don’t end up with food stains on your pants.”

  Delphine’s voice rose above the others as she continued her protest.

  “Don’t forget Bastille Day!”

  “How could we, with you reminding us every five minutes?” Hank asked as Amy ughed. Alex’s attention was entirely consumed by his introduction to hot dogs with sauerkraut and hot Chinese mustard.

  “Don’t breathe in!” Carol shouted as his face became bright red.

  “Wow,” Alex said after a bout of coughing. “That’ll wake you up in the morning.”

  "“Liberté, égalité, fraternité!” Delphine shouted before Aric whispered something in her ear.

  “Ratatouilleté!” she added as both of them ughed.

  “No taxation without representation!” Aric shouted.

  “Sur les barricades!” Delphine added as she raised her gss of wine and began a slow march towards the fence separating Ed’s yard from his neighbor’s.

  “Allons enfant de patrie,” she began to sing as Edith joined in.

  “Yankee Doodle went to London riding on a pony.” Carol began to sing.

  “Le jour de gloire est arrivé.”

  “Hold your breath!”

  “Stuck a feather in his cap and called it macaroni.”

  “Christ, {cough, cough}, who invented these things?”

  “God save our gracious Queen,”

  “Not wine, are you crazy? You’ll light yourself on fire. Ale is what you need now.”

  “Long live our noble Queen,”

  “{cough} English ale? {cough} I’d rather catch fire.”

  Thus began, and then quickly concluded, a friendly battle of anthems—interspersed with first attempts with deadly food—which ended with much appuse.

  “Vive Entente Cordiale! Vive liberté!” Delphine shouted at the conclusion just as the top half of a man’s head appeared on the other side of the wooden fence.

  “Afternoon, Ed. You alright?” The bald man said.

  “Afternoon, Albert. You alright?”

  “Never better. Newcastle win the FA cup?”

  Ed surveyed the pandemonium in his yard fondly. “No such luck. We’re celebrating the fourth of July with our Americans.”

  “And Bastille Day!” a familiar female voice shouted.

  “Anyone else? Wales? Catalonia?” Carol asked. “Hank? Anything from New Zeand?”

  “Not unless you count trying not to freeze to death. It’s winter there now.”

  “Maybe next year,” Ed replied when no one thought of anything.

  Tess watched the rear of the red Volvo as it turned left out of her driveway and disappeared behind the hedgerow lining the road. Skye had followed the vet to his car but returned as soon as the driver’s door shut. The big Anatolian Shepherd wasn’t a fan of car fumes.

  Evie’s eyes were still leaking, silent streams running down her cheeks. She rested her head on Tess’s shoulder and exhaled with a low, heavy sound. Tess stroked her face gently, her own tears carving trails through the dust on her skin.

  She was out of options.

  Out of hope.

  No one knew what was wrong with Evergreen. Evie. Her best friend for sixteen years. Tess had raised her from a foal—watched her take her first steps, fall in the mud, stumble back up. They’d been partners for so long she could barely remember life before her.

  And Skye—dear Skye—had joined them eight years ago. All paws and no coordination at first, but determined to belong. He was old now, by canine standards. Not many years left.

  Tess couldn’t imagine losing them both—her horse and her dog—in such a short span and still finding the strength to go on living. And even if she could… what would be the point?

  People needed a reason to live. What would hers be when her best friends were gone?

  Evie shifted, rubbing her muzzle against Tess’s cheek. A gentle reminder that the team wasn’t broken yet.

  Don’t give up.

  Not yet.

  Tess’s thoughts leapt backward—to the rooftop, two years ago. Rain. Fear. That glowing figure. A man? Woman? At the time they hadn’t been able to tell. Someone had called it an angel. Someone else thought it was a god. Tess had never settled on a bel herself

  But the miracles came afterward.

  Not all were rumors—some of the people she’d known. Quite a few had been children. Cancer, gone. Nerve damage, healed. Congenital defects suddenly absent. They all told the same story: an impossibly attractive man. His glowing form. The moment of contact. Sound. smell, the glow that looked like the light of creation. Then health where there had been none. And hope.

  Maybe it was an angel.

  It had to be the same being from the roof. The same angel. The same man.

  Whatever it was, Tess needed a miracle. She had nothing else left.

  She gave Evie a hug.

  “Vou arranjar-te ajuda, querida. Eu prometo. Vais ficar melhor.” I’m going to get you some help, sweetie. I promise. You’re going to get better.

  She walked into her house. without removing her filthy boots. Pulled the university directory from the shelf. She knew both of the faculty members who’d been there on the roof that afternoon. One of them lived twenty minutes away.

  She copied the address onto a slip of paper. Grabbed her car keys off the hook by the door. Opened the back door to her battered Land Rover Series III.

  “Skye,” she called softly.

  He was watching her. But he didn’t move.

  He wasn’t leaving Evie.

  Tess swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew the feeling.

  But she had to go.

  She started the engine, backed in a slow arc, and turned down the gravel drive. A moment ter she was heading down the same path the red Volvo had taken—away from her house and toward Guildford.

  Aric was pcing hamburger patties and chicken on the grill when the doorbell rang again.

  Ed had been waiting for it. Maggie and Peter were the only ones left. He’d suggested to Roz that she warn her mother and stepfather that their quiet, private get together was no longer private nor quiet. He left it to his daughter to decide, and hadn’t inquired as to her decision. If he had, or if she had taken the reins and told him anything at all about her conversation with her mum, he might have been better prepared for the meeting. Then again, maybe not.

  “Something happened in the b st year,” Roz said on the phone when she invited her mother to visit. “An accident. Dad was caught in it. You should be prepared for that when you see him.”

  Maggie’s heart dropped as she heard those words. She imagined Ed horribly disfigured, possibly missing fingers or a limb. But she didn’t want the details, not if they were as upsetting as she expected. But the most important detail she did want.

  “But he recovered? He’s healthy?”

  “He’s fine. I just didn’t want you to be too surprised. Dad was afraid that you’d take one look at him and faint.”

  She thought about it the entire drive. She’d discussed it with Peter almost as long.

  “If it’s too much to bear then look off to one side, or at his chest. He’s probably used to people staring at his…injuries,” Peter said, not knowing what word to use. “Just be yourself. He won’t expect you to give any more than you can.”

  “I don’t know what I can give,” she’d said, a metallic taste in her mouth, her voice shaking as she gripped her hands tightly.

  “How did Roz sound? Was she upset?”

  She shook her head. “No, she sounded calm. Like nothing had even happened.”

  “Well, if she can do it, so can you.”

  Margaret Hardwick had no idea as she stepped up to the front door and rang the bell that she was preparing herself for the wrong thing.

  “That’s Mum and Peter,” Roz said when she heard the doorbell. She’d begun to think they’d reconsidered—that they wouldn’t come at all.

  “I’ll go,” Ed said as she started toward the door. “Better to get it over with.”

  “We’ll go together,” she answered, taking his hand. They walked through the kitchen and into the living room side by side.

  When she heard the tch move, a wave of fear washed over Maggie. But what she saw stunned all the fear senseless.

  “You—” was all she managed as she got her first look at Ed. She stared at his youthful face for several seconds before turning to her daughter.

  “You—” she repeated, then looked back at Ed.

  “You—”

  “You keep saying that,” Ed said gently to his ex-wife, who was clearly struggling to process what she was seeing.

  Roz stepped forward and pulled her mother into a warm embrace.

  “I reacted exactly the same way,” she murmured. “Give it time.”

  Ed opened the door all the way and stepped aside.

  “Come on in. The party’s out back. You two look like you could use a drink. If you need something stronger…” He gave a crooked smile, “Aric’s got some hot dogs you should try.”