“I’m here,” he answered. He didn’t want any part of this. He wasn’t sure at all that Deny Howe thought anything about him one way or the other. He wasn’t sure at all that Derry would give him the time of day. Mel had more faith in him than he had in himself. Besides, he had problems of his own that needed his attention, and the biggest was sitting just down the hall in the kitchen. This whole business with Derry sounded like trouble he didn’t need. “I don’t know, Mel,” he said.
“You and Evelyn going to the park today? For a picnic and the dance? Didn’t you say you were?”
“We’re going.”
“Well, Derry will be there, too. He’s going to enter the horseshoe tournament with Junior and some others. All I’m asking is that you take five minutes of your time and talk with him. Just ask him what’s up, that’s all. If he won’t tell you, fine. But maybe he will. Maybe, if it’s you.”
Old Bob shook his head. He didn’t want to get involved in this. He closed his eyes and rubbed them with his free hand. “All right, Mel,” he said finally. “I’ll give it a try.”
There was an audible sigh of relief. “Thanks, Bob. I’ll see you there. Thanks.”
Old Bob placed the receiver gently back on the cradle. After a moment, he stood up and went over to open the door again.
“Nest, I want you to listen to me,” Gran said quietly.
They were seated at the kitchen table, facing each other in the hazy sunlight, eyes locked. Gran’s hands were shaking, and she put one on top of the other to keep them still. Nest saw disappointment and anger and sadness in her eyes all at the same time, and she was suddenly afraid.
“I won’t lie to you,” Gran said. “I have tried never to lie to you. There are things I haven’t told you. Some you don’t need to know. Some I can’t tell you. We all have secrets in our lives. We are entitled to that. Not everything about us should be known. I expect you understand that, being who you ar,e. Secrets allow us space in which to grow and change as we must. Secrets give us privacy where privacy is necessary if we are to survive.”
She started to reach for her drink and stopped. At her elbow, her cigarette was burned to ash. She glanced at it, then away. She sighed wearily, her eyes flicking back to Nest.
“Was it you, Gran?” Nest asked gently. “In the park, with the feeders?”
Gran nodded. “Yes, Nest, it was.” She was silent a moment, a bundle of old sticks inside the housecoat. “I have never told anyone. Not my parents, not your grandfather, not even Caitlin-and God knows, I should at least have told her. But I didn’t. I kept that part of my life secret, kept it to myself.”
She reached across the table for Nest’s hand and took it in her own. Her hands were fragile and warm. “I was young and headstrong and foolish. I was proud. I was different, Nest, and I knew it-different like you are, gifted with use of the magic and able to see the forest creatures. No one else could see what I saw. Not my parents, not my friends, not anyone. It set me apart from everyone, and I liked that. My aunt, Opal Anders, my mother’s sister, was the last to have the magic before me, and she had died when I was still quite young. So for a time, there was only me. I lived by the park, and I escaped into it whenever I could. It was my own private world. There was nothing in my other life that was anywhere near as intriguing as what waited for me in the park. I came at night, as you do. I found the feeders waiting for me-curious, responsive, eager. They wanted me there with them, I could tell. They were anxious to see what I would do. So I came whenever I could, mingling with them, trailing after them, always watching, wondering what they were, waiting to see what they would do next. I was never afraid. They never threatened me. There didn’t seem to be any reason not to be there.”