Gracie pinches her eyes shut tight. Her lips are pursed. There's a lot of concentration and focus going into this wish.
When her face relaxes slightly, the girl called Kate asks, "Did you make a good one?"
"I made a good one. I wished that—"
A deep male voice cuts her off. "Don't tell your wish, Gracie. It won't come true if you tell us." I'd bet money that was Gustov.
Gracie pulls her lips in between her teeth, like she's physically restraining her secret wish, holding it inside so it doesn't force its way out.
"You ready to blow out the candles, Gracie?" It's Kate.
Gracie nods excitedly. She's bouncing in her chair.
Kate laughs. She has a great laugh. It comes from deep in her belly. It's genuine. "You've got this. One blow, and all the candles will be history. Okay?"
Gracie nods again. The look of concentration has taken over her face again. She's focused and her eyebrows pull in toward the center. She closes her eyes as Kate starts the count.
"On the count of three, Gracie. One. Two. Three!"
Gracie leans forward, eyes still closed, and blows on the candles. Two flicker out, but before she can open her eyes, Kate and another blond head that pops into the screen blow the rest of the candles out.
Gracie leans back and opens her eyes, astonished that all of the candles are extinguished. "I did it!" she cheers.
"You did it!" Kate and Gustov cheer together.
Gracie turns in her seat and looks at Kate with hope in her eyes. "I get my wish?" she asks.
Kate wraps her arms around Gracie's neck and hugs her. "Always. I'll make sure of it."
And just as I'm enjoying myself and getting sucked into the innocence, the screen goes dark again.
"Goddamn, Gracie loved birthdays, didn't she, Ma?" Gustov asks from beside me. He sounds like he's reminiscing.
Audrey nods. "She did. I don't know what she liked more: the cupcakes, or the candles, or the wishes."
The screen lights up again. It looks like a stage in an auditorium, maybe at a school or rec center.
A voice announces, "I'd like to introduce Kate Sedgwick."
Loud cheering and whistling comes from the audience.
Kate walks onto the stage holding a violin. She looks to be about eighteen, carrying the same grace and beauty as before. Her eyes are downcast, as if she's trying to ignore the crowd in front of her.
"That's my girl!" A guy's voice yells from the audience. It sounds like Gustov.
A smile creeps across her mouth as she looks up. She shakes her head, but she's smiling. Her smile seems to say, Stop, you're embarrassing me and Thank you at the same time.
She tucks the violin under her chin, and for the next ten minutes I can't take my eyes off the screen. I'm riveted. She's amazingly talented. I've gone to the symphony in New York. She's that kind of good.
When her violin falls silent, I can't help but say, "Wow." It's a whisper only for me, but I can't help myself.
Gustov looks at me, his eyes brimming with pride. "Damn right," he says.
Audrey sniffles beside me as the screen fades to black again. She pauses it. "She could tell a story with a song. That was beautiful. I need a tissue."
When Audrey returns and starts the video again, we watch Rook play a song down in the basement of this house, their faces bright with youth. Franco doesn't have as many tattoos. After some coaxing, albeit crude, Franco persuades Kate to sing with them. I'm stunned by her voice. Even though the sound quality of the video isn't great, her voice is massive, especially for such a small woman. She's as good as Gustov and I have to admit he has a great voice. They sing well together.
After the fade to black, a song starts playing. It's a single violin. And then a photo slideshow begins. It's three minutes of a heartbreaking song, which has to be Rook and Kate, accompanied by dozens of photos of Gustov, Gracie, Kate, and Audrey. The photos must span twenty years. The kids are toddlers in some but others look more recent. I don't know if it's the song fueling my emotional swings, but as I watch it I feel elated one second and sick to my stomach the next.
By the end, I feel spent. I don't know who Kate and Gracie are, but I have a very bad feeling. These girls were obviously as close as family their entire lives, and I haven't heard about or seen either of them in the months I've been around the Hawthornes.
Gustov pushes off the sofa. "Thanks for that, Ma. I'm going outside."
He needs a cigarette. Or he's escaping. Probably both, the way his voice just sounded. He doesn't hide his emotions. Even when he doesn't talk his mannerisms speak loud and clear.
I should let him go out alone. I know that. They've just let me in on something very private; I should take that gift graciously and keep my damn mouth shut. But I can't. I feel like this is the key to something; that this is the reason there are parts of Gustov that I don't get. Because watching the Gustov in those videos—he was so free and happy.
He's in one of the lounge chairs on the deck facing the water when I step outside. He doesn't look at me when I approach, he just lights his cigarette. His first pull is long and focused.
I feel like I need to ask, to make peace before I barge into his life completely. "Can I sit down?"
He doesn't take his eyes off the horizon, but his answer is gentle, "Sure. It's showtime." It's not what I was expecting, but I can't believe how relieved I am at the acceptance.
I take a seat in the chair next to him. "Showtime?" I ask.
Pointing to the water, cigarette held firmly between his fingers, he looks at me as if I should understand. After he takes in my puzzled look, he elaborates. "The sunset. It's showtime."
And the realization sinks in. "Oh," I answer lamely. I settle back into my chair and for the next ten minutes Gustov and I watch the water swallow the glowing orange orb. Piercing the darkness with words is startling given the solitude, so I speak quietly. "I don't think I've ever watched the sunset." Because I honestly don't think I have. I grew up in New York, surrounded by buildings and hustle and bustle. I was aware that the sun did set every day, but I never took the time to actually watch it happen. I feel a little cheated now, because this was breathtaking.
His eyes narrow infinitesimally. "Are you shitting me?"