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you, but...Isn ’ t that the same dress you
were wearing at that party ten years ago?”
    I glance down at the black dress, then back up at Jack. In
unison, we burst out into uproarious peals of laughter, clutching onto the
railing as our bellies start to ache. It ’ s positively
ridiculous, trying to keep up the act that anything about this night, this
conversation, or any of what ’ s going on here is
normal. A good laugh is exactly what we ’ ve both been
needing, I think.
    “Same old Callie, huh?” Jack says warmly, wrapping an arm
around my shoulders there at the railing.
    “Or something like that,” I reply, fitting myself into his
muscular side. A bit more experienced , I want to add, but bite my
tongue. This is neither the time nor the place for flirtation, I remind myself
for the millionth time.
    “Listen,” Jack goes on, looking down at me with sudden
earnestness. “I want to fill you in on...well, everything. Everything that ’ s happening with my work, and my life. Everything that was
happening with Avery before she... But I can ’ t do it here.
If I spend one more minute cooped up in one of these Westchester mausoleums, I ’ m gonna snap. Can we meet somewhere else?”
    “Oh,” I say, taken aback. “Uh. Sure, Jack. Where?”
    “There ’ s a bar back at my hotel in the
city,” he tells me. “Will you come and have a drink with me? Tomorrow?”
    I blink up at him in the half-light, mesmerized by his face being
so close to mine. “Are you asking me out...at my sister ’s
funeral? ” I ask him slowly.
    He rolls his eyes, tugging me playfully against his side. “I
mean, I wouldn ’ t put it that way, Cal.”
    “Is there another way to put it?” I shoot back, suddenly
tired of his hell-if-I-care attitude. “Sorry, but it feels a little off. You
know? We haven ’ t seen each other for years. You were part
of Avery ’ s life. Not mine.”
    “Will you meet me or not?” he asks impatiently, just as
tired of my attitude as I am of his.
    “ I...I don’ t...” I stammer. Why is it
so hard to say no to this man?
    “Please, Callie,” he says, all of the arrogance in his
expression falling away. “I really need to see you again.”
    “I ’ ll...have to think about it. I
guess,” I allow, confused by all the odd turns this conversation has taken. “It
just feels a little weird, Jack. I hardly even know you anymore.”
    “Yes you do,” he says firmly, his blue eyes locked hard onto
mine. “You always have. Sleep on it, alright? I gotta get out of here.”
    Jack turns on his heel and takes a step toward the door.
    “By the way,” he adds, pausing at the threshold, “Happy
belated birthday, Callie.”
    I stare after him as he makes his exit, my mouth hanging
open. At least one thing about that man hasn ’ t changed a bit
since we were sixteen-year-olds making jokes about Shakespeare and stealing
nips of vodka: I never, ever know what to expect from him next.
     
    “And where did you disappear to?” my mother asks, as
I descend the marble stairs once more. The reception guests have all dispersed,
leaving me alone with my parents in this expansive mansion. The clicking of my
heels on the steps echoes eerily around the empty halls.
    “Just getting a bit of air,” I reply, my voice fraying at
the edges.
    Sylvia waits for me at the foot of the stairs, a
nearly-drained martini glass clutched in her skeletal hand. The strain of this
ordeal is finally starting to show on her implacable face, but I know we ’ ll never say a word about it. I stop in front of my mom,
returning her stony gaze. Of all the surreal things that have happened these
past couple of days, the most baffling by far has been realizing that my own
mother is now a total stranger to me.
    “Why are you staring at me like that?” she snaps, frowning.
“Are you on drugs or something, Calista?”
    “ No Mom, ” I sigh, “Just lost in my own
thoughts, I guess.”
    “Quite,” she replies, turning and walking away from