Page 28 of When People Leave

“I live in the desert, so any grass is beautiful to me,” Charlie said, pulling her coat around her tightly to ward off the chill.

Maria smiled and seemed to relax. “I wish there was more from your mother here, but it was empty when we moved in,” she said.

“How long have you lived here?” Abby asked.

“About two years. The man we rent from bought it fifteen years ago from a charity. He said the woman who owned the home for over fifty years died, and since she had no heirs, she left it to some suicide prevention organization.”

“That must’ve been our grandmother,” Charlie said.

“Maria, you’ve been more than kind allowing us to come into your house,” Morgan said.

“We appreciate it,” Abby said.

“It was my pleasure. I wish I could’ve been more help.”

The women said goodbye, and the sisters walked back down the path.

“Isn’t it strange that our grandmother left her house to some charity to help prevent suicide years before her daughter took her own life?” Morgan said, holding the gate for Charlie and Abby to walk through.

“It’s eerie,” Charlie said. “And Mom was alive when her mother died, so why wouldn’t our grandmother leave the house to her?”

“Maybe they had a fight,” Abby said, then wondered what happened in that house that Carla wouldn’t talk about and Beverly disowned her?

“Now what?” Charlie asked as they headed back down the street.

“That park Antonio told us about is local, which means it has to be near here,” Morgan said. “Let’s check it out.”

Although it hadn’t snowed much, not many people were out that day, which made sense because McGorlick Park was covered with a thin, treacherous layer of ice. Abby took each step carefully; the last thing she wanted was to fall and end up in a hospital in New York.

A woman being dragged by her Mastiff flew past them, yelling, “Barney, stop.” The dog had found its soulmate in a French Bulldog wearing a green and white polka-dotted sweater. Barney was drawn to her like the magnetic balls in Newton’s Cradle. It was love at first sniff.

The sisters walked farther into the park and found the kids’ play area that Antonio had described.

A lone boy swaddled in a puffy down jacket, scarf, mittens, and a beanie that almost covered his eyes slid down the slide.

As Abby heard his joyful laughter, her chin dipped toward her chest, and her lips quivered.

I wonder what my four are doing right now.

I hope they miss me as much as I miss them.

The boy’s au pair, wearing a trench coat and two braids in her hair, stood near him, talking animatedly on the phone in French. Abby’s high school French had mostly vanished to the recesses of her brain, although she did recognize the words boss and cheating.

When Morgan stopped suddenly, Charlie almost crashed into her, and Abby almost crashed into Charlie. Morgan seemed captivated by the swings, even though they were the same as every other swing at any park in the United States.

“What’s wrong?” Abby asked.

“Either I’m having déjà vu, or I’ve been here before,” Morgan said.

“Are you sure? It’s not like we haven’t been to a million parks in our lives,” Charlie said.

Morgan walked over to the swings, put her hand on the rope, and then pulled it off as if electricity had passed through her arm.

“Are you okay?” Abby asked.

“Our father and I came here,” Morgan said as she began pushing the swing back and forth.

“Are you sure?” Charlie asked.

“Yes. He’d lift me onto these swings and sing ‘You Are My Sunshine.’ I remember him wearing a Yankees sweatshirt and a Mets baseball hat, although maybe that was in a dream.

” Morgan looked like she was having an out-of-body experience as she kept pushing on the swing. “I can still see his smile,” she said.

“That doesn’t add up with what we were told,” Abby said. “Do you think Mom lied, and he wasn’t the bad guy she said he was?”

“Why would she hurt us like that?” Charlie said.

“Is it possible your mind is playing tricks on you, Morgan? Abby asked.

Morgan shook her head back and forth. “No.”

“I wish I had even one memory of him,” Abby said. “You two are lucky.”

How could my father not want to get to know me? Abby thought. Envy that her sisters had memories of him crept inside her and took up residence like a squatter in an abandoned house. Why would he abandon me when I was just a baby? Had he ever thought about me after he left?

“I really missed having a father,” Charlie said.

“Me, too,” Abby said. “My friends got to have their dad walk them down the aisle and do the traditional father/daughter dance. When I hired the DJ for my wedding, I told him to skip it. I remember his pitiful look when I told him why. It was embarrassing.”

“You had nothing to be embarrassed about,” Charlie said. “You didn’t have anything to do with our father abandoning us.”

“Didn’t I? Mom said he left because he couldn’t handle all of us,” Abby said, her eyes misting up. “He stayed until right after I was born. What does that say about how much he loved me?”

“It says he was selfish. You were a cute baby; he would’ve been lucky to have you--- or any of us,” Morgan said.

Abby wanted to respond, but the words got stuck deep inside her.

While Morgan continued to push the empty swing back and forth, the other three swings were now populated by happy kids. A girl with springy blond hair bounced on her toes as she and her mom approached Morgan.

“Excuse me, are you done pushing your friend?” the little girl asked, pointing to the empty swing.

Morgan smiled at her and her mom. “Yes, my friend is tired,” Morgan said, moving away from the swing. The sisters walked over to a nearby bench and sat.

“Did Mom tell either of you where Dad was buried?” Abby asked.

“No,” Morgan and Charlie said.

“Don’t you think that’s odd?” Abby asked, then pulled her phone out of her purse and googled obituaries for Brian Weiss in New York. A ton of results came up. Of the ones that had died, either they weren’t from New York, or they weren’t the right age.

“That’s the problem with having a common Jewish last name,” Morgan said.

“And we don’t know where he moved to after he left us,” Charlie said. “He could’ve gone anywhere in the world.”

“I don’t think we’re going to find anything else here in Brooklyn,” Morgan said.

“Since we don’t leave until tomorrow night, can we spend some time in the city?” Abby asked.

“Sure,” Morgan said. “Why don’t we stop at the pizza place tonight and say goodbye to Antonio? He’s been nice and helpful.”

When the three of them got back to the hotel, Morgan and Charlie got on the elevator to return to their room, but Abby wanted some time alone. She waited for their elevator to leave, then pushed the button again to go up to the rooftop bar.

The space was upscale and sophisticated, with subdued lighting and floor-to-ceiling windows featuring sweeping views of Brooklyn and Manhattan. Abby sat at the bar, hoping the bartender would stop flirting with the gorgeous woman with full lips and hair pulled back to reveal high cheekbones.

A man in a leather jacket and distressed jeans sat down, leaving one empty seat between him and Abby.

The man looked around her age, with tawny hair shaped in an “Ivy League” haircut, with sides and back cut shorter than the top. The dimples in his cheeks remained visible even when he wasn’t smiling. He had the kind of boyish face that Abby found adorable.

Abby managed to notice all these details without looking directly at him. I don’t want him to think I want to talk to him , even though I do .

“Do you think the bartender knows we’re here?” the man asked Abby.

“I doubt it. He still hasn’t figured out that woman is out of his league,” she said, turning to him. She noticed that his eyes were so blue they almost had a purplish tint, and his posture conveyed self-confidence but not cockiness.

“You got that right,” the man said. He began to mimic what the bartender might be saying to the pretty woman. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. How could you possibly be here alone?”

Abby followed suit, pretending to be the woman. “Please, I am not that beautiful.”

“Oh, but you are,” the man added.

Abby let out a mock sigh, then as the woman, “You’re right. Does that mean I get free drinks?”

They both watched as the woman got up and left, leaving the dejected-looking bartender—behind.

“He must’ve said no to the free drinks,” Abby said.

The man laughed, then called out to the bartender. “Excuse me, you have customers over here.”

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked, walking over to them.

“What would you like?” the man asked Abby. “It’s on me.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Abby said.

“It’s a business expense,” he said, putting the word ‘business’ in quotes. “The sky’s the limit.”

“Well, then I’ll have a vodka tonic,” Abby told the bartender.

“I’ll have the same,” the man said.

As the bartender walked away, the man slid over to the seat next to Abby and put his hand out.

“I’m Greg,” he said.

Abby shook his hand. “Kelsey,” she said, thinking, I can be anyone I want to be. She dropped her left hand into her lap, quickly slid off her wedding ring, and then slipped it into a pocket in her purse.

As they continued talking, Greg told Abby about his job as a Wall Street Trader in the city.

They discussed their favorite movies and reality TV shows, a shared guilty pleasure.

Abby led Greg to believe she was single and worked as a caregiver for the elderly.

At least that last part was true, she reasoned—she did take care of her whole family as they aged.

When the bartender brought their second drink, Abby proposed a toast.

“To expense accounts,” she said, and they clinked glasses. When her fingers inadvertently brushed Greg’s hand, Abby felt anticipatory goose bumps rising on her arms.