“Ephraim was a counselor for Children’s Aid last summer,” I told Lewyn. “He goes to Yale. What are you doing home?”
“Fall break,” said Ephraim simply. “I have a project I needed to work on, and my suitemates decided to spend the break watching every episode of Stargate in our living room. Besides, I wanted to see my mom.”
“That’s so sweet!” I said. “This is amazing! I thought you were going to keep in touch.”
He looked, I saw, abruptly uncomfortable. I wished I hadn’t said it. But we had been friends. And united in disdain for our boss, that awful woman who hated kids.
“Would you like to join us?” said Ephraim. “I’m making dinner.”
I declined, automatically. “No, no, that’s okay.”
“We can’t,” Lewyn said at the same time.
“Actually, we just ate,” I added.
“But just come in and say hello,” he insisted. “It’s time you met my mom.”
My brother and I exchanged a glance, and then, an instant later, a nod. Neither of us, we would later admit, had any idea that “It’s time you met my mom” was anything but a pleasantry, nor the slightest sense that some momentous thing might be about to happen. But we followed him anyway.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Everything Is Important
In which Lewyn Oppenheimer needs to sit down
Later, each of us would say that it was the scar we noticed first, that jolt of pink incongruity at her clavicle, and then the other features, so familiar from the Wikipedia page we’d stared at, only a couple of weeks earlier: those gray dreadlocks, that small person radiating importance, though whether in the world or merely to ourselves, we couldn’t have said. I was in front of Lewyn as we entered the room, so I never saw his face as he looked at her, and he never saw mine. I reached back for him, but it was Ephraim who took my arm.
“Oh,” somebody said, and I thought for a moment it might have come from me, but it wasn’t me. It was Stella Western, standing in the doorway of her own kitchen, watching the three of us walk into her home: three of Salo Oppenheimer’s five children, in the same place, at the same time, for the first time. “Oh boy,” she said, a moment later. “Well.”
“Are you her?” Lewyn said, which did sound stupid, but I knew exactly what he meant, and I supposed she did, too.
“I’m Stella,” said Stella. “And I think you’re Lewyn.”
“You live here?” my brother said. “This is your son?” He turned to Ephraim. He was trying to remember Ephraim’s name, I knew. I didn’t blame him. It seemed to be hitting him in pieces.
“Honey.” Stella came across to us. “Phoebe? Is that right?”
“Yes,” I nodded. Then I hugged her. I had no idea why. I just wanted to.
“Lewyn. Can I hug you, too?” Already, her eyes were streaming.
Lewyn let her, but his face was full of dismay.
“Now I know all of you,” Stella said. “I met Sally once. I didn’t know it was her, but I liked her. I met your brother. Harrison. That wasn’t so nice, but he was taking care of his mama. Your mama,” said Stella. “And I respected that. Do you want to sit down?” she asked Lewyn. “I think maybe you should.”
I dragged my eyes away from her and looked at Lewyn. He really did not look all right.
“Lewyn, sit down,” I said, and he did, on a sofa. And I understood that he knew only what I had known a few weeks ago, before Harrison, before Sally. Which was nothing. So I took his hand.
“Lewyn,” I said carefully, “this is our brother. Ephraim is our brother.”