Slice by William Patterson Page B

noticed was that John Manning was gone. When she inquired of Aunt Paulette, she was told the author had asked her to give Jessie his thanks, but he really had to get back to his writing. He was on a deadline. Jessie felt it was rude for him to leave without saying good-bye to her in person. She’d only been inside for a few minutes, after all. But then she noticed Heather and Bryan off to the side of the yard in the midst of a rather intense conversation themselves, and she suspected something had happened that had caused John Manning to make a quick getaway.
    Within a few minutes, the dueling couple were gathering their kids and making their own farewells.
    â€œIt was wonderful to see you again, Jessie, it truly was,” Heather said, taking her by the shoulders and kissing the air beside her face. “Sorry we can’t stay, but I have a ton of work to do. Catering a big party tomorrow.”
    â€œI’m glad you could come,” Jessie said, reflecting on the irony of her words.
    â€œGood-bye, Jessie,” Bryan said, “and thanks.”
    His eyes barely made contact with hers. Jessie noticed she wasn’t “Jessaloo” anymore.
    Bryan and Heather hurried back down the hill, their kids screaming after them.
    Mr. Thayer was the next to leave, thanking them far more authentically and telling Jessie once again how pleased he was that she had returned to the neighborhood. Monica and Todd took that as their cue to leave as well. Monica asked her sister—halfheartedly, Jessie thought—if she needed any help cleaning up, but Aunt Paulette piped in that she’d take care of everything. Monica didn’t object, and she and Todd headed back to their house. That left the Gorins, who didn’t leave until Inga had wrapped the last of the uneaten burgers in cellophane and Jessie had begun peeling the plastic covers off the picnic tables.
    â€œWell,” Aunt Paulette said with a sigh when they were finally alone, “was it so bad?”
    â€œI guess it was good as a way to break the ice,” Jessie acknowledged, “but I’m glad it’s over.”
    â€œDo I have to play with those kids again?” Abby asked.
    â€œNot if you don’t want to,” Jessie told her.
    â€œThey weren’t very nice.”
    â€œI know, baby.” She smiled sadly. “But apples don’t tend to fall too far from the tree.”
    She saw something suddenly, out by the brook.
    It was a child.
    A little boy . . .
    Had Ashton returned?
    No, it wasn’t Ashton. The boy was standing down at the brook, staring up at them. Jessie couldn’t make out his face, but she could see he wasn’t a redhead like Ashton.
    â€œAbby,” she called. “Look down there. Is that your little friend—?”
    But in the moment Jessie had moved her eyes over to look at her daughter, the little boy had disappeared. When Jessie looked back at the brook, there was no one standing there anymore.
    â€œWhere, Mommy?” Abby asked.
    â€œNever mind, honey. I guess I made a mistake.”
    The sun was dropping lower in the sky and the yard was filling up with shadows.
    â€œJessie,” came Inga’s voice. “Everything’s cleaned up here. Do you mind if I run over to Mr. Manning’s house for a moment?”
    Jessie looked at her. “Whatever for?”
    â€œHe told me he’d give me a couple more of his books, and an autographed copy I could send home to my mother.”
    Jessie approached her. “You sure were in quite the conversation with him.”
    â€œI know.” Inga blushed. “He was very charming, a very nice man. He knew the town where I was born. He’s been all over the world.”
    Jessie tried to push away the ridiculous feelings of jealousy she felt. “Of course, Inga,” she said. “Go on over. Everything’s under control here.”
    â€œThanks. I won’t be gone long. I’ll be back to help get