Mag-log inAnastasia’s POV:Noah cried on the way there.Not loudly. He was not a loud crier. He cried the way he did most things, with complete commitment and no performance, sitting in the back seat of the car with his new backpack on his lap and his face doing the thing it did when something was happening that he had decided he did not want to happen.Zoe looked at him.“It’s fine,” she said.“You don’t know that,” he said.“I went,” she said. “I’m fine.”“You’re different,” he said.“How?” she said.He thought about it.“You’re not scared of things,” he said.Zoe considered this.“I’m scared of things,” she said. “I just don’t show it.”He looked at her.“What are you scared of?” he said.“Lots of things,” she said. “But I go anyway.”I drove and said nothing because they were handling it better than I could have and some things needed to happen between siblings without parents in the middle of them.Lucas was in the passenger seat and I could feel him not saying anything either.Noah was qu
Anastasia’s POV:Adrian Cole came to dinner on a Friday in May with Claire who was not his girlfriend and also was, in the way that some people occupied that space without either of them having named it yet.I had met Claire twice before. She was quiet in the way of people who were paying attention rather than people who had nothing to say and she had the particular quality of someone who had arrived in a group of people with complicated history and had decided to simply be present in it rather than trying to navigate it.I liked her immediately.Lucas liked her because she asked him a specific question about the Salvatore commercial renovation that told him she had actually looked it up before coming to dinner and Lucas responded to homework the way most people responded to compliments.Noah liked her because she listened to his explanation of why sparkling water was better than still water with the focused attention of someone who found this genuinely interesting.Zoe assessed her f
Anastasia’s POV:It rained the morning of the groundbreaking.Not heavily. The particular light rain that could not decide if it was mist or intention and settled for being both, the kind that made everything smell like wet concrete and possibility and that I had always secretly liked even when it was inconvenient.Lucas looked at the sky when we came out of the house and said nothing which was the right response.Noah looked at the sky and said it is raining and I said yes and he said will there be mud and I said probably and he said good.Zoe had an umbrella. She had found it in the hallway cupboard and claimed it before anyone said anything and she was holding it with the focused intention of someone who had made a decision about this day and the rain was not part of the problem.We drove to the east side of Harlow City.I had been to the site six times in the past three months, walking the ground with Caroline Marsh and the contractors and Rosa, looking at what the space was and b
Anastasia’s POV:Isla called me on a Tuesday which was becoming a pattern with the people in my life, significant things happened on Tuesdays, and she said she was having a show and she wanted me to come and she said it the way Isla said everything, directly, without softening it with context or preamble.“When?” I said.“Saturday,” she said. “The gallery on the west side. The one I told Simone about.”“The one that expressed interest in your work,” I said.“They did more than express interest,” she said. “It is a full show. Eighteen pieces. They gave me the main room.”I sat up straighter.“Isla,” I said. “That’s big.”“I know,” she said, and her voice did something I had not heard from her before, a brief unguarded moment before she covered it again with the easy confidence she wore for everything. “Will you come?”“Obviously,” I said. “All of us.”“You don’t have to bring all of us,” she said.“Simone will want to come,” I said. “She has been talking about your work to everyone who
Anastasia’s POV:It started with a calendar.Not metaphorically. An actual calendar on the kitchen wall that Lucas had put up in January because he said we needed a system and I had agreed because we did need a system and the system had worked for two months and then on a Thursday in April, it stopped working because we had both written different things in the same square.Lucas had written Hong Kong and I had written community center groundbreaking and they were on the same day and neither of us had said anything to the other before writing them and now it was Wednesday night and we were both looking at the calendar with the particular stillness of two people who had been here before.Not here exactly.But adjacent to here.“I told you about Hong Kong three weeks ago,” he said.“You mentioned Hong Kong three weeks ago,” I said. “There’s a difference between mentioning and putting it in the calendar.”“I assumed you would put it in the calendar,” he said.“Why would I put your trip in
Anastasia’s POV:Lucas found it on a Saturday afternoon in March while he was doing the thing he did in the garden now, which was to go out there with no plan and come back two hours later with dirt on his hands and a specific opinion about something that needed doing that he had apparently been thinking about the entire time.I was in the studio when he came back in.He appeared in the doorway and I looked up and he had the dirt on his hands and the expression of someone who had found something they were not expecting to find.“Come and look at something,” he said.“I’m working,” I said.“It will only take two minutes,” he said.“You always say two minutes,” I said.“I mean it this time,” he said.I put my pencil down.The garden in March was doing the thing gardens did at the end of winter, half dead and half beginning, and I followed Lucas to the far end near the old stone wall and he crouched down beside a section of ground and pointed.I looked.Underneath the wall, in a gap betw







