The Leftovers

Erin looking panicked, then delighted, then panicked again as she nibbled on her first sour cream and onion potato chip. The way his eyebrows turned lighter in the summer. The way her thumb looked after she’d been sucking it all night, pink and wrinkled, decades older than the rest of her. It was all there, locked in a vault, an immense fortune from which Nora could make only small, all-too-infrequent withdrawals.
    She was supposed to go to her sister’s to open presents and eat a late breakfast of omelettes and bacon, but she called Karen and told her to go ahead without her. She said she was a bit under the weather, but thought she’d be okay with a little extra sleep.
    “I’ll just meet you at Mom’s this afternoon.”
    “You sure?” She could hear the suspicion in Karen’s voice, her almost uncanny ability to sense concealment or evasion. She must be a formidable parent. “Is there anything I can do? You want me to come over?”
    “I’ll be fine,” Nora assured her. “Just enjoy the day. I’ll see you later, okay?”
    *   *   *
    SOMETIMES, WHEN she waited too long in the cold, Laurie drifted into a kind of fugue state, losing track of where she was and what she was doing. It was a defense mechanism, a surprisingly effective way of blocking out physical discomfort and anxiety, though also a bit scary, since it seemed like the first step on the road to freezing to death.
    She must have spaced out like that on Gary’s front stoop—they’d been sitting there for quite a while—because she didn’t register the fact that a car had pulled up in front of the house until the people inside it were climbing out, by which point Meg was already in motion, heading down the steps and striding across the dead brown lawn with an urgency that was almost alarming after such a protracted interlude of calm.
    The driver circled around the hood of the car—it was a sporty little Lexus, freshly washed and gleaming in the wan winter sunlight—and took his place at the side of the woman who’d just vacated the passenger seat. He was tall and handsome in his camel-hair overcoat, and Laurie’s brain had thawed out just enough to recognize him as Gary, whose confident, smiling face she’d seen numerous times in Meg’s Memory Book. The woman seemed vaguely familiar as well. Both of them stared at Meg with expressions that combined varying degrees of pity and astonishment, but when Gary finally spoke, all Laurie heard in his voice was a note of weary annoyance.
    “What the hell are you doing here?”
    True to her training, Meg remained silent. It would have been better if she had a cigarette in her hand, but neither one of them had been smoking when the car pulled up. That was Laurie’s fault, a lapse of supervision.
    “Did you hear me?” Gary’s voice was louder now, as if he thought Meg might have developed a hearing problem. “I asked you a question.”
    His companion gave him a puzzled look. “You know she can’t talk, right?”
    “Oh, she can talk,” Gary said. “She used to talk my fucking ear off.”
    Looking vaguely mortified, the young woman turned back to Meg. She was short and curvy, a bit unsteady on her stiletto heels. Laurie couldn’t help admiring her coat, a shimmery blue parka with fur-lined cuffs and hood. The fur was probably synthetic, but it looked really warm.
    “I’m sorry,” the young woman told Meg. “I know this must be weird for you. Seeing us together.”
    Laurie leaned to the left, trying to get a look at Meg’s face, but the angle wasn’t right.
    “Don’t apologize to her, ” Gary snapped. “She’s the one who should apologize.”
    “It started two weeks ago,” the young woman continued, as if Meg had requested an explanation. “A bunch of us went to Massimo’s and drank a lot of red wine, and I was too drunk to drive home. So Gary offered me a lift.” She raised her eyebrows, as if the story told itself. “I’m not sure if it’s serious or anything. We’re just kinda hanging out together. For now.”
    “Gina.” Gary’s voice was sharp with warning. “Don’t do this. It’s none of her business.”
    Gina, Laurie thought. Meg’s cousin. One of the bridesmaids.
    “Of course it’s her business,” Gina said. “You guys were together all those years. You were gonna get married.”
    Gary studied Meg with a disgusted expression.
    “Look at her. I don’t even know who that is.”
    “She’s still Meg.” Gina spoke so softly that Laurie could