The Leftovers

must have been a towering shot, because it seemed for a second or two that the ball had left the earth’s atmosphere and wouldn’t be coming down. And then he saw it, a bright speck streaking across the sky, arcing downward. He lifted his arm and opened his glove. The ball dropped into the pocket with a resounding smack, as if it had been heading there the whole time and was happy to reach its destination.
    *   *   *
    JILL ASKED if she should wear white to the sleepover, but Ms. Maffey told her it wasn’t necessary.
    Just bring yourself and a sleeping bag, she wrote. Things are pretty casual at the Guest House. And don’t worry about the Vow of Silence. We can talk in whispers. It’ll be fun!
    As a gesture of when-in-Rome goodwill, Jill picked out a stretchy white T-shirt to wear with her jeans, and then packed an overnight bag with pajamas, a change of underwear, and a few toiletries. At the last second, she added an envelope containing a dozen family photographs—a sort of rough draft of a Memory Book—just in case her visit lasted longer than a single night.
    Aimee wasn’t usually home in the evenings, but Jill had heard her moving around in the guest room, so she wasn’t all that surprised to go downstairs and find her sitting on the living room couch. What did surprise her were the suitcases flanking Aimee’s feet, matching blue canvas wheelbags that Jill’s parents had bought when Tom was still in high school, when the whole family went to Tuscany for spring vacation.
    “Going somewhere?” she asked, conscious of the rolled-up sleeping bag dangling from her own hand. They could have been taking a trip together, waiting for a ride to the airport.
    “I’m leaving,” Aimee explained. “It’s about time I got out of your hair.”
    “Oh.” Jill nodded for longer than necessary, waiting for the meaning of Aimee’s words to sink in. “My dad didn’t tell me.”
    “He doesn’t know.” Aimee’s smile lacked its usual confidence. “It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
    “You’re not going home, are you? Back to your stepfather’s?”
    “God, no.” Aimee sounded horrified by the thought. “I’m never going back there.”
    “So where…?”
    “There’s a girl I met at work. Mimi. She’s pretty cool. She lives with her parents, but it’s like a separate basement apartment. She says it’s okay if I crash there for a while.”
    “Wow.” Jill felt a twinge of jealousy. She remembered how amazing it had been when Aimee first moved in, the two of them as close as sisters, their lives all tangled together. “Good for you.”
    Aimee shrugged; it was hard to tell if she was proud of herself or embarrassed. “That’s what I do, right? I make friends with people at work and then I move into their houses. Then I stay for way longer than I should.”
    “It was fun,” Jill murmured. “We were happy to have you.”
    “What about you?” Aimee wondered. “Where you off to?”
    “Just—to a friend’s,” Jill said after a brief hesitation. “No one you know.”
    Aimee nodded indifferently, no longer curious about the details of Jill’s social life. Her eyes took a nostalgic tour of the living room—the wide-screen TV, the comfy sectional, the painting of a humble shack illuminated by a streetlight.
    “I really liked it here,” she said. “This was the best place I ever lived.”
    “You don’t have to go, you know.”
    “It’s time,” Aimee told her. “I probably should’ve left a few months ago.”
    “My dad’s gonna miss you. You really cheered him up.”
    “I’m gonna write him a letter,” Aimee promised, speaking to Jill’s feet instead of her face. “Just tell him I said thanks for everything, okay?”
    “Sure.”
    It felt to Jill like there was something else that needed to be said, but she couldn’t think of what it was, and Aimee wasn’t helping. They were both relieved when a horn sounded outside.
    “That’s my ride.”
    Aimee stood up and looked at Jill. She seemed to be trying to smile.
    “I guess this is it.”
    “I guess so.”
    Aimee stepped forward, reaching out for a farewell hug. Jill responded as best she could with her one free hand. The horn sounded again.
    “Last summer?” Aimee said. “You kinda saved my life.”
    “It was the other way around,” Jill assured her.
    Aimee laughed softly and hefted up her luggage.
    “I’m just borrowing these. I’ll bring them back in a few days.”
    “Whenever,” Jill replied.