Cal studied the wall. There was a short crack near the door frame, and the paint was old and dingy. He guessed it had once been pale yellow, but he wasn't sure. Across the room, Deirdre was curled up on the bed with her back to him. She hadn't moved from that position since the previous night. With his anger gone and his wounded ego deflated yet again by Jack's refusal to fight with him, Cal hadn't bothered finding out what would happen if he joined her on the bed. Instead, he slept sitting up in the chair, though he hadn't slept so much as doze off for a few minutes in between fantasies of punching Jack and seducing Rose.
Almost twenty years without thinking about her. You couldn't keep that up?
He was exhausted, but his mind was buzzing. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Jack's face. He saw the disgusted look Jack had worn while being insulted. He hadn't said anything. He just sat there, holding Rose's hand, until it was over.
"Is that all?" he asked calmly. "You don't feel like throwing anything? Or maybe you'd like to accuse me of stealing?" It was his calmness that had most infuriated Cal.
"And her," he had sneered, turning to Rose. Her face was stone.
Jack had jumped to his feet at that. "Don't you even think about her!" he growled.
Everyone else ceased to exist, or at least it seemed that way to Cal. He didn't think about any of what he said next; he just opened his mouth and let the words come out. All he felt when Jack raised his fist was a deep satisfaction. See? He isn't any better than me. But then Rose stopped him. How does she even know? he thought. She can't see him. They can't be that close.
"I hope you're happy." Deirdre's voice shattered the silence.
"What?" Cal asked.
"I said I hope you're happy." She sat up and turned to face him. Her makeup was smudged and her hair was disheveled, but she still looked regal. "You just had to do that, didn't you? You couldn't leave it alone."
"I believe, if you'll recall, he started it. I didn't say anything until he made that snide remark about knowing me."
"I'm sure your staring at his wife all evening had something to do with that. Not that I'm taking his side. Although, of the two of you, he did behave with far more maturity."
"Of course you would take his side."
"I already said I'm not on his side. Nor am I on yours," she said coldly. "I thought perhaps we could come together for our daughter's sake, but all you seem to care about is reviving an old grudge against a woman who doesn't appear to have ever given a damn about you."
"You don't know the first thing about it."
"I know what I saw last night." And with that, she leapt off the bed and hurried across the room. She threw open the closet and grabbed a dress. "I know I love you. I know I wanted to finally move on. Together. I don't know what you want." She dressed quickly, keeping her back to him the whole time. She brushed her hair out and pinned it back. There was no saving her makeup, but she could wash it off in the bathroom.
"Where are you going?"
"I don't think I need to tell you that," she said over her shoulder as she headed out the door.
*****
Rose snuggled closer to Jack. She threw an arm across his chest. He kissed the top of her head and tightened his grip on her. "You awake?" he asked sleepily. She responded by nuzzling his chest. "I'll take that as a no..."
The house was still when Jack finally woke up. He climbed out of bed slowly, careful not to disturb Rose. He was on his second piece of toast by the time he realized the silence around him wasn't the silence of a sleeping house but rather of an empty one. Chewing slowly, the rest of his toast forgotten in his hand, he walked through the house. Where did everyone go? he wondered. There wasn't even a note, and that was unusual.
"Jack?"
"Right here, Petal." He held out his hand.
She took it gratefully. "I had the strangest feeling when I woke up. I don't know where it came from."
"Scared?"
"Sort of. I guess it would be more...unsettled is the word I would choose. I felt like I was the only person left. Isn't that absurd? I think it had something to do with the dream I had."
"What was the dream?"
"I don't really remember. I just know it was more nightmare than dream." She tilted her head toward him slightly. "Did you make toast?"
He laughed. "I don't know how you can smell it, cold as it is. I'll make you a fresh piece if you want."
"Please? It's better when you make it."
"You didn't hear the kids say anything about going somewhere today, did you?" Jack asked as he popped two slices of bread in the oven.
"I can't imagine where they would have gone this early," Rose said. She slowly poured half a glass of orange juice.
"You can keep going," he said. "Now stop. It's actually pretty late. It's 11:30."
"That's funny. It doesn't feel late at all." She sipped her juice. "How could we sleep so late? And I can't believe we didn't hear them leave. Was there a note?"
"Nope." He grabbed the toasted bread out of the oven and tossed it onto a plate. "It almost seems like they didn't want us to know they were going until after they were gone." He began buttering the toast. "But that's not like them."
"Maybe Dylan and Eva decided to elope," Rose joked.
Jack froze. "You don't think they really would, do you?"
As the day wore on and still there was no word from any of them, Jack and Rose became more and more convinced that that was exactly what had happened.
"I can't say I blame them," Rose said, "not after everything that's been happening." She shifted to a new position on Jack's lap. "I wish it hadn't come to this, though. I didn't want our children to have to do the same things we did."
"Maybe they were just following our example."
"Or maybe we helped drive them to it."
"Nothing that's happened so far comes close to being like what we experienced," Jack reminded her. "Though I guess that doesn't make it better, does it?" He laid his head on her shoulder. "And we still have to deal with whatever revolutionary Lily marries."
Rose shifted again. "I don't think we'll have to worry about that for awhile. The man she's most interested in is in Russia."
"Lenin's dead."
"I was talking Bukharin."
"Isn't he dead, too? Rose, could you...d'ya think you could move a little less?"
She pressed a hand against his cheek. "I really can feel a blush."
He touched a spot above her hand. "I can't feel it."
She laughed. "Neither can I, but I was sure you were."
"You—" But he was laughing, too.
"It wasn't my idea to sit like this," she said. "I'm not even sure how we ended up this way."
"Compromise."
"Oh, that's right. I wanted to knit. You wanted cuddling. This doesn't seem like much of a compromise to me, though, considering my knitting things are on the other side of the room, and you're doing a very good job of keeping me on this side of the room." She tensed slightly. "Did you hear that?"
"Uh-huh."
Lily didn't bother trying to sneak in. The house wasn't big enough to hide in, and even if it had been, she wouldn't have. Avoiding her parents would just delay the inevitable. "And where did you get off to?"
"Hi, Dad," she said wearily. "Before you ask, I'm alone. They stayed behind."
"You were right," Jack said as Rose took her place at his side. "It's Lily. And she's fine. Exhausted from the look of her, but fine."
"You wouldn't just let me have a nap before I explain, would you?" Lily asked hopefully. "I'm sure you've already figured most of it out."
Jack's face softened. "You don't want to eat first?" he asked with a small smile.
She shook her head. "Just sleep." She dropped her bag. It seemed to weigh twice what it had when she set out that morning. Rose reached for her as she passed. "They're fine," Lily assured her. "And we would've told you, but that kind of went against the spirit of the thing."
*****
Lily slept until the next morning. She woke up at her usual time and immediately jumped out of bed, fully refreshed. She was halfway through brushing her hair before the events of the previous day came rushing back. "And now I have to explain it to everyone," she said. "They could've come back and done their own storytelling instead of leaving it to me. I have enough to try to explain."
When are you going to do that, anyway?
"Well, I can't very well do it now, can I?"
There were four people in the kitchen instead of two, but the extra two weren't Dylan and Eva, much to her disappointment. They were Cal and Deirdre. All eyes were on her as she came in. Her stomach twisted. Say something! But all she could think was What is to be done? And that made her think of Lenin. And that led to an image of Lenin occupying the same room as Cal, and that led to a giggling fit. "I'm sorry," she choked out. "Really...I..." She fell into the nearest empty chair. "You want me to tell you where they are, don't you?" she asked when the fit had subsided.
"I didn't come here to find out how to draw," Cal said drily. Jack shot him a look. Deirdre's eyes narrowed. "Yes, that's what we want," he said quickly.
"Well, that's what some of us want," Rose said. "I don't mind not knowing where they are as long as they're all right."
"They were when I left," Lily said. "And they sent their love."
"Doesn't this seem a bit untoward to you?" Deirdre asked, looking at Rose.
"Why would it?" Cal asked before she could reply. "Considering some of the things she's done."
"I'll thank you to keep your mouth shut about my mother," Lily said smoothly. "I'm sure your part in that story would make a very interesting narrative. As for where they are, I'm afraid they asked me not to tell you. They want some time alone to be married before coming back into the maelstrom."
"So, they did get married?" Deirdre asked.
"Oh, yes."
Things managed to stay relatively pleasant for another three minutes, but then the tension began to mount. Sensing things were about to come to a breaking point, Lily said the only thing she could think of.
"I dropped out of school."