“I’m the same,” Zadie said. “I still drag our mom’s old cassette collection around with me.”
“Oh, yeah…” he started thoughtfully. “She was a good singer, wasn’t she? I remember her walking around the house singing to herself.”
“Yeah, she performed onstage sometimes.”
“That’s right. She mentioned that.”
“So she did remember some things?”
“Some. Amy would know better. The two of them were always talking. I— Well, I mostly keep to myself, as you can see.”
Their mom must have sat on this porch, Finn thought. She searched for a memory of hers, some sign that she’d been there, but felt nothing. “She didn’t remember us, did she?” she asked.
Myron hesitated and looked down at the beer in his hand. “She didn’t say she had kids.”
Finn hadn’t expected him to say yes, but the truth still stung.
In an effort to change the subject, Zadie asked, “Did she ever black out?”
Myron thought for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “No, I can’t say I remember her blacking out. Although… Amy said she would do this thing sometimes. They’d be standing around talking, then Amy would turn away, and when she turned back around, Wren—sorry,Nora—was gone. A lot of times, she’d find her outside just staring up at the sky.”
“Did she ask her what she was doing?”
“Uhh… I think she said she was looking at the birds? I’m not sure. We were worried. We tried again to get her to go to the doctor, but she wasn’t having it. Then one day she just left. Never came back.” His expression was apologetic. “If I’d known she had kids…”
“It’s not your fault,” Finn said. “She couldn’t control it.”
He looked at her curiously. “Control what?”
Finn glanced over at her sister, who gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. She ignored her warning and continued, “Our mom wasdifferent.”
“Different how?” he said, eyes narrowing from either curiosity or suspicion, she couldn’t tell.
“She wasn’t like other people. Like your girls—” Realizing the mistake she’d made, she stopped short.
Myron’s guard was up. “Whataboutmy girls?”
Finn faltered, so Zadie went on defense. “She just means that our mom was kind of eccentric. That’s all.”
He studied the Wilders for a moment, then said, “You never told me how you found me.”
Although her echoes had retreated for the time being, Finn could still feel them lurking in the back of her mind. If she told Myron about the echo she’d had of the accident, she ran the risk of his thinking she was crazy and asking them to leave. But based onthe suspicious tone of his voice, she wagered that some version of the truth was still preferable to whatever story Myron was currently cooking up in his head.
He continued, “I’m not trying to be rude. You guys seem nice, but you just show up out of the blue. You know my name, where I live. I just need to know what’s going on.”
Seeing no other option, Finn answered, “You might not believe it.”
“Try me.”
Finn told him everything: about her echoes and the accident, about how she had not only seen it, but felt it as if she had been the one who’d crashed that bike. Not wanting to get Joel in trouble, she conveniently left out the part about the DMV, explaining, instead, that the only compelling piece of information she’d gleaned from the crash was Myron’s name and license plate.
Finn ran out of breath and locked eyes with Myron. His were blue and drowning in memories. “That’s a wild story.”
“I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s the truth,” Finn said.
Joel cut in. “Wait! You were serious about all that stuff?” Zadie swatted him, and he took the hint and shut his mouth.
“You know, my wife was kind of like you,” Myron told Finn.