She twirled the curly cord of the telephone around her finger, speaking like a teenager to everyone, not just guests but caterers and florists too, punctuating her whispers with laughs, screams, and fits of giggles. It made me uncomfortable, to see her oscillate so wildly between the depression her father’s presence conjured and the glee speaking to anyone outside the house seemed to cause. It made Carlow and James endlessly curious. They lingered in the hall or around the corner in the kitchen as she spoke. She had some kind of internal logic about the guest list, though Carlow and James could not figure out what it was—and hounding her over the lunch table (she had begun skipping her usual coffee and fruit entirely) proved ineffective.

“Did you invite the Cunningham twins?” Carlow asked.

Her coquettish face—chin tilted down, looking up at him out of the side of her eyes.

“Ex-girlfriends,” James said, “should maybe be off-limits.”

Carlow held a finger in the air and said, “Not that either of the Cunningham twins are ex-girlfriends per se, but I’m not exactly looking to speak to them again either way.”

“You want to plan the party?” Lonnie said, the flirtatious tease of her expression quickly erupting into a pinched anger.

It stopped both men short.

She took the phone off the hook and shoved it into James’s stomach. “Be my guest.”

We all watched her stalk out of the room. No one followed her and no one apologized.

25

THE FOLLOWING MORNING SIENNA WAS WAITING FOR ME AS William and I walked toward the water. She was playing in the ocean, her hair stringy, her ears sticking out between the frizzy strands. She turned when she saw us and a big wave hit her from behind, knocking her over. I caught my breath, but she reemerged, crawling toward us, a long piece of seaweed caught on her shoulder, laughing on the wet sand.

“Well?” she said, approaching us, dripping, shucking off the seaweed.

I handed William his shovel and bucket. As he got to work on a hole, I told her, “Once upon a time, there was a little girl. Actually, she looked a lot like you. She had brown hair too, and brown eyes. She was lying in her bed in the middle of the night, trying to fall asleep. Just as she started to drift off she heard a sound. It went”—I whispered—“rap-rap-rap.”

Sienna’s whole demeanor changed as she listened. Her eyes were wide, her body completely still. I was a little surprised how quickly I’d drawn her into the narrative.