“Go out to the pool,” Shirley whispered in my ear. “That’s where you’ll find her.”

My whole body tensed. Then I took a breath, reminding myself this was an old, kindly woman, apparently with dementia.

I smiled warmly at her. “Thank you again for coming.” Ryan linked arms with his grandmother, said his goodbyes, and led her away.

* * *

My father was bartending in the dining room, expertly mixing toxically strong drinks for people from the huge array of bottles and mixers Diane had set up on the sideboard. He made a gin and tonic for Lily, who owned the bed-and-breakfast. She had come to the service with her daughter, Mindy, who looked to be in her early twenties. “She had a party up here, beginning of May,” Mindy told me. “She had the house and pool all lit up with candles! Floating candles on the water. God, it was pretty! Everyone wanted to swim, of course.”

I nodded, thinking the water must have been frigid in May. Who would want to dive in?

I did not get a chance to ask; I noticed that her mother, Lily, was flirting with my father. And he was flirting back.

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Mindy said. She seemed to concentrate on pulling herself together. “When I think of Lexie, I’ll always think of that night. Of how she put a Fats Domino record on and danced and sang to ‘I Hear You Knocking.’ She loved those old records. Did you know what an amazing collection she had?” She hummed the tune, swayed slightly.

I shook my head.

Knock knock, Jax. Aren’t you gonna let me in?

In addition to the catered platters Diane had arranged for, guests had arrived laden with food: cold-cut plates, baked goods, casseroles, Crock-Pots full of meatballs and chili. People brought cases of beer, bottles of wine. Patrick and Jamie Brewer, who ran an organic farm in town, brought a bottle of homemade elderberry liqueur. Ryan showed up with a bottle of Ketel One, and as I thanked him, I made a mental note to ask him if he was the one who’d brought the bottle we’d found.

I’d had two glasses of wine, and was now drinking a large, strong margarita Diane had put in my hand. I knew the hard liquor wasn’t the best idea, but I was enjoying the numb, removed feeling the booze gave me. I’d taken three Advil, and even with that and the alcohol, my head was still hurting. I circled through the small crowd in the living room and kitchen, saying hello to people I half recognized, and being introduced to people who all seemed to know me. People who had stories to tell about my grandmother, my mother and aunts, and my sister.

“So good to see you again,” they all said. “So sorry for your loss.”

Gladys Bisette, who owned the general store with her husband, Bill, cornered me. She’d had too many of my father’s tequila sunrises and had spilled something on her dark gray dress. “I remember you and your sister riding those bikes—streamers on the handlebars, dinging the little bells. You’d come in to buy penny candy and sodas.”

“Yes, I remember. We always got Hires Root Beer. It was Lexie’s favorite.”

“Such good children,” she said wistfully. She took my hand. “Dear, I understand it’s soon, but do you have any idea what will happen to the pool? Bill, he’s got that bad leg. He was in Vietnam, you know. Shot,” she said. “Nerve damage.”

“Oh, I had no idea,” I said.

“Swimming in the pool keeps him limber. On his feet.”

“Don’t pester the poor girl, Gladys!” Bill said as he came up, face red and sweaty, whiskey in his hand. “To your sister,” he said, raising his glass then slugging it down. I raised my own glass in unison, finishing off the last of my drink.

“I didn’t realize my sister was interested in fishing,” I said as Bill moved to stand beside me. I thought of the fish in Lake Wilmore when we were growing up—perch, trout, pumpkinseeds. Was she really going to go after such tiny, dainty fish with a harpoon?

“She was interested in all sorts of things, wasn’t she?” said Bill. There was something odd about his look. He seemed to be implying that he knew other things, strange things, that Lexie had been interested in. Or maybe it was a look to remind me that I’d been away for a long time?

“True enough,” I said, excusing myself to go and make the rounds.

My head was swimming from the wine and tequila, and from all the things I didn’t know about my sister. Watercolors. Mary Oliver. Strawberry jam.

She had had a good year here at Sparrow Crest. And I had missed it all.

And now Lexie was dead.

She was dead, and there was no bringing her back.

The phone in the kitchen started to ring, just as loud and jangling as I remembered. I moved through the living room, feeling as if I were underwater, listening to pieces of conversation: Poor Lexie; can’t believe she’s gone; that’s the sister, I hear she cut her off completely. In the empty kitchen I picked up the heavy black handset. It was cool against my hand and ear. “Hello?”

The crackling static of old wires and a bad connection.

No. Not static. Water. It was the sound of running water.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” I heard the faintest whisper: Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Are you sorry?

I slammed the phone back into the cradle. Shit, shit, shit. I tried to steady my body and thoughts. Surely, I’d imagined it. It was the tequila, my headache, and stress combined with a bad phone line. I looked out the window over the sink.

Diane was out by the pool with Terri.

I watched them kiss; not a friendly, chaste kiss, but a long, deep one.

Now I was sure I was seeing things. Diane and Terri? They’d been friends since they were little girls. My mind spun in slow, drunken circles. Shit, was Diane the reason Terri and Randy were getting divorced? And Ryan didn’t know?

Terri pulled away, flustered. Diane said something, and Terri handed her a jar. Diane dipped the jar into the pool, filling it, then screwed on the lid and handed it back to Terri. Bizarre. While my grandmother touted the healing powers of the water, Diane was an adamant nonbeliever. She openly despised the pool. Did she believe, after all? Or was she just using the water for romantic leverage? Diane glanced back toward the house. She seemed to look right at me.

Embarrassed, I turned away. I poured myself a cup of coffee. I needed to sober up. Get my head together. When I looked back a moment later, Diane and Terri were nowhere to be seen. There was only the pool, the water so black it absorbed the reflection of the sun. It was like looking up at the night sky; I even saw the faint outline of stars there, stars that moved, making me feel off-balance and queasy. All those years ago, Lexie got me out of bed, dragged me down to the pool. Gram says it will give you wishes! I took another a sip of coffee, the cup shaking in my trembling hand.