Marcelline walked back to Donna at the coat closet and surrendered her jacket. As her mom loaded it onto a hanger, Carly looked back at her stepfather. The change in him was horrible. He was looking at Donna and Marcelline putting the jacket away as if he were watching an autopsy. He’d gone a weird color, sickly, and instantly shiny.

He was really not happy about having company.

Last night had gotten to him more than Carly had given him credit for. A hint of hope lived in that. Maybe there was an explanation for everything. Maybe it wasn’t completely terrible. Look at him. He was a wreck and trying not to be. Maybe it would be okay.

They turned back to John.

Donna startled a little at the way he was watching them. Marcelline wore that same funny look, a tight little smile that she had pointed out to Carly when they’d analyzed the Mona Lisa together.

Marcelline looked as if she knew something everyone else didn’t. Which wasn’t wrong. Carly just wished again that she’d be a little bit craftier about it.

“Hey,” Donna said to John. “Can you get the wine?”

“Yeah,” he said, but crossed over to push the closet door all the way closed first.

•  •  •

The adults finished the bottle together. Carly took her homework into the dining room but got none of it done, ear tuned to the conversation playing out in the living room. Marcelline, as it went on, was fine at being fine. Pretty good at it, really. In the end, Carly was impressed, even a little proud of having a friend like her, even in the awful kind of private joke this was. But most of all, she was so relieved. Marcelline was being nice to her mom.

This was going to work. Marcelline talked and laughed. She would see what they were about so she could help Carly figure out what to do. Marcelline steered clear, so carefully casual, of anything that would give them away. She wouldn’t leave her all on her own to swim or drown in it.

“Carly,” her mom called after a while. “Emma’s got to get going. Want to come in here and say goodnight?”

They all converged in the foyer. Smiles all around. John seemed okay again, hands in his pockets, standing in front of the coat closet, face perfectly John-like.

“Thank you so much,” Marcelline said. “For the wine and for the shelter. It looks better out there.”

“Of course,” said Donna. “This was a nice surprise. We all needed this. Thank you for working with Carly. It’s been so good for her.”

Marcelline pulled her phone from her purse. “So, John, I already have Donna’s number, but go ahead and give me yours just in case anything comes up. You know how it is. . . .”