Birthright

it’s a painful subject. You want some music?”
    “I would. Got any candles?”
    “Nothing fancy, just some for power outages.”
    “They’ll do.”
    She took the picnic idea seriously and spread a blanket on the living room floor. With the candles glowing, the music as background, they ate sandwiches, drank wine. They made love again, lazily, on the blanket, then curled up together in contented silence.
    Neither of them stirred when the sounds of sirens wailed. “It’ll be hot in Memphis,” she said after a time.
    “Pretty sure bet.”
    “Are you going to Graceland while you’re there?”
    “No.”
    She rolled so she could lie over him and study his face. “Why not?”
    “Because . . . first, it’s a cliché, and second, I’m there to do a job, not to pay homage to The King.”
    “You could do both.” She angled her head. “You should go, just for the fun and the experience. Then you should buy me something incredibly silly.”
    She kissed the tip of his nose. “I have to go.”
    He didn’t want her to go, and the urge to pull her back, hold her to him, with him, was more than a little frightening. “Want to try for the movies again, when I get back?”
    It pleased her he’d asked first this time. “Yes.” As she started to rise, the cell phone in her briefcase across the room began to ring.
    He saw the instant, primal fear flash into her eyes as she scrambled up. “It must be Denny, the baby-sitter.”
    She tore open the briefcase, was ordering herself not to be an alarmist when she snagged the ringing phone.
    “Hello? Denny, what . . . What? My God. Yes. Yes, I will.”
    She was already running toward the bedroom as she disconnected.
    “Tyler. What’s wrong with Tyler?” Doug demanded as he sprinted after her.
    “Nothing. He’s fine. Ty’s fine.” She grabbed her shirt. “God, Doug. My God. My office is on fire.”
    T here was nothing to do but stand and watch. To stand across the street from the smoke and the flames and watch a part of her life burn.
    She’d lost far worse, she reminded herself. Far worse than an office, than equipment and papers and some furniture. She could replace everything. She could rebuild. There was nothing in wood or brick that couldn’t be replaced or repaired.
    And still she grieved for the old townhouse with its funny rooms and pretty views.
    The fire department had soaked the houses on either side of hers, and what had been trim lawns were now churned-up mud filthy with debris. Smoke pumped out of broken windows, out of the roof and into the clear summer night sky.
    Dozens of people had come out of their homes or stopped their cars to watch.
    She saw the young family of four who lived in the second-floor apartment of the house next door. They looked terrified as they huddled together with whatever belongings they’d grabbed on the way out. As they waited to see if their home would be destroyed.
    “Lana.”
    “Roger.” She nearly broke. Seeing him there with his pajama top stuffed into trousers, with slippers on his feet, nearly broke her. Instead she gripped his hand and held on.
    “The sirens woke me,” he told her. “I got up, got a glass of water. Finally glanced out the window. I could just see the smoke. Were you in there?”
    “No. I was with Doug. Somebody called the house, told my baby-sitter. He called me. Oh God, don’t let it spread. Just don’t let it spread.”
    Roger glanced over at Doug. “Maybe we should find a place for you to sit awhile.”
    “She won’t,” Doug said. “I already tried that.”
    “I don’t know how it could’ve happened. I had everything inspected when I rented the building. The wiring was brought up to code. I’ve been careful.”
    “We’ll just wait and see,” Doug said, and Roger felt a little weight lift off his heart when he saw his grandson lean down to press his lips to Lana’s hair.
    C allie heard about the fire at six-fifty the following morning when Jake shook her out of sleep.
    “Go away or I’ll kill you.”
    “Wake up, Dunbrook. Your lawyer’s office burned down last night.”
    “What? Huh?” She flipped over on her stomach, shoved at her hair and blinked up at him. “Lana? Jesus. Where is she?”
    “She’s okay.” He stopped her from leaping up by clamping a hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t get a lot of deets, just what they came up with for the early local news, but they reported no one was in the building when the fire started.”
    “God.” She rubbed