“Why not?”

“That was a long time ago. And I don’t know, she seems so innocent in the tape.”

“Innocence is a gift, Gray,” I say, hearing my voice dip emotionally. “Look how beautiful she is. Whatever pain she felt, however she’d been hurt, she doesn’t show it here. She let it go, even for a minute. Kids can be so resilient. I never stop being amazed.”

“I haven’t thought about it like that.”

As the tape ends, the machine crackles, then whirs. Gray hits rewind and then Di Anne puts her arm around him, pulling him close, and we watch it again. Sunlight pierces the venetian blinds, throws a single slash of light over the wall just above the Magnavox. Then the singing: Just look at the world around you / Right here on the ocean floor / Such wonderful things surround you / What more is you lookin’ for?

(forty-seven)

Will and I have arranged to meet at six-fifteen that night to go over his speech, but by then people have already begun to arrive. Someone has set up a long table under the far wall, and it’s loaded with food. Potluck dishes, a crockpot full of barbecued meatballs, cheese and crackers and piles of rolls, plastic cutlery, paper napkins, pink lemonade, and a tower of Styrofoam cups. For a moment I’m thrown, but then I remember how it is in small towns, where any public gathering means food. Plus eating always brings people together, gives them something to do with their hands.

Soon, the chairs begin to fill. Wanda has been passing out flyers and has done her job well. The village has shown up, finally, each person here because the time has come for this, for arriving and surrendering, for saying yes to the truth and just going there, to that place, where we already are.

As the hour draws closer, I see Steve Gonzales arrive with a short, pretty woman who must be his wife. He has a hand on her shoulder, nodding at me and then heading off to sit near a group of young people who are obviously from the high school. A few minutes later, Clay LaForge comes in with Lenore, both of them a little shy, or seeming so as they slide into a row at the back. Lydia Hague arrives and subtly waves hello. Then I notice a tall, striking woman come in, with a dramatic line of silver through wavy black hair. She has a boy and a girl with her, one at each side. I watch as Will reacts. This is his family; this is Beth with his children.

“Go over,” I tell him.

“I will in a bit.”