Rae chuckled. “Give it up, Dad. You know she won’t.”
With a petulant shake of his head, Connor returned his attention to the TV.
Rae tossed the snowsuit aside. “This is a nice surprise. What’s the occasion?”
“Oh, nothing major. I must ask you something.”
“What?”
“It’s silly, really. This could’ve waited until next week.”
“Well, you’re here. What’s up?”
Yuna lowered her gaze. Frowning, she noticed the clumps of white melting into the carpet. Retracing her steps, she pulled her boots off in the foyer.
Kameko tugged on Rae’s sleeve. “Did you kill them?” she asked.
“Not yet,” Rae assured her.
The precocious child blinked suspicious eyes. “Show me.”
A trap, and Rae warily sought escape. Yuna’s judgments she could take—sometimes. Kameko was a more severe taskmaster.
“Can we schedule a tour with an appointment?” she asked the child. “They aren’t receiving guests today.”
“I’m a friend.”
“Yes, you are. A better friend than me, actually. But they’ve had a busy morning. You know—soaking up the sun in between snow showers. It’s best for everyone involved if you schedule an appointment.”
Imagination powered even the most skeptical child. Finally, Kameko accepted the ruse. “What’s an ‘appointment’？” she asked.
“Like when Mommy takes you to ballet class. You go when the teacher asks to see you. Not whenever you like.”
“They aren’t busy, like my teacher. Call them.” Kameko patted Rae’s bottom, searching for her phone. Small children also shunned the personal-boundary rule. “Tell them I’m visiting right away.”
Yuna flapped her arms. “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Rae. They’re plants, not socialites. Take her to the studio!”
Outside the A-frame pyramid of glass, snow fell in whirling sheets. The oak flooring gleamed from a recent mopping. Unlike the attached greenhouse, which was neglected like the barn, the studio held a hint of recent activity.
Rae paused in the center of the generous space. Memories swept through her—some quite recent, too precious and poignant to bear contemplating. She latched on to the older memories from childhood, how she’d hopped up and down to glimpse the collages taking shape as her mother bent over the long art tables; how the damp, verdant scents from the smaller greenhouse were overtaken by the studio’s heavy pulse of metallic paints and bitter glue. The drafting table and the art supplies had been sold off long ago. The studio now felt empty and cold. Only a long wooden desk remained, shoved up against the wall.
Dust covered the table’s dark surface. The relic was too painful for either Rae or Connor to approach.
Ghosts from the past did not intimidate Kameko. Taking the lead, she dashed forward. Before the pyramid of glass, three plastic tables stood in a bright row with a houseplant on top of each one. The tables were blue, green, and pink: Rae had purchased the toy furniture at a New Year’s Day sale. Even if her verve for life was missing, she couldn’t resist lavishing gifts on her friend’s daughter.
A yellow pail sat beside the tables. A plastic trowel was thrust into the potting soil.
The child scooped up a shovelful of dirt. She threw Rae an accusing look.
“Auntie Rae, they’re hurting.” Kameko shook a layer of soil around the first plant, a yellowing ivy. She patted it down.
“I did water them, bean sprout.”
“When?”
“Last week. Or two weeks ago.” Between the new hires at work and concern over Quinn Galecki, she wasn’t sure.
“Did you feed them? Mommy says plants get hungry, just like little girls.”
“Those plant spikes? I thought I’d wait, let you do it.”
Yuna appeared with the toy watering can Rae kept beneath the kitchen sink. She handed it to her daughter. “Sweetheart, give them each a good soaking.” She’d also brought along baking sheets to set beneath the houseplants.
With Kameko suitably occupied, Rae steered Yuna out of earshot. “What’s going on? You’re here, you’ve got something to say . . . and I’m getting a bad vibe. Like, whatever it is, you don’t want to tell me.”
“I don’t want to upset you.”
“Great. That makes me feel better.”
Yuna scraped the glossy hair from her brow. “It’s about Night on the Square,” she said.
Each year the city hosted the June fundraiser; Rae and Yuna usually worked on a committee together. The adults-only event featured drinking and dancing in Chardon Square’s center green. Several local restaurants served appetizers and light desserts. As the mayor’s wife, Yuna often chaired the committee of her choice. This year’s event would fund upgrades for the high school technology department.