The sun disappeared behind the hill as they went down the driveway, leaving the woods glowing a watery blue. Lia and Dempsey continued their conversation, but Paul couldn't get involved. Seeing the house had stirred up an odd mix of feelings, an upwelling of the past. Mainly family stuff-the brighter early years of living here in Westchester, then Ben's death and the dark years of grieving and poverty, moving away, Aster's withdrawal from the world. Lia could manage her ebullient mood because for her this had nothing to do with the past, parents, death in the family. It had only to do with the future, a puzzle, a little morsel of danger to be savoured. Paul doubted that he could find her point of view.
'Fuck it.' he said out loud.
Dempsey turned to him. 'Coprolalia, or just plain old regular profanity?'
'Maybe a little of both,' Paul told him.