Out of Touch Read Free Page B

between two black couches. Her feet, already nestled in plush white carpeting, wriggled in anticipation of standing atop two more rugs on top of the carpet. There was more mahogany furniture, some of it with jeweled inlays, probably real antique stuff.
                  But Mei Mei motioned her to the window before Sarah had time to finish studying the room. The window took up the whole back wall of the sitting area. Framed by the light, Mei Mei in silhouette became the centerpiece for her sitting room. She looked liked a sculpture of a woman, her hair a perfect smooth black, bobbed softly below the ears. Her skin was healthy and impossibly smooth, though slight wrinkles around her eyes and mouth hinted that she was probably fifty, at least. The flowing amber dress she wore looked like silk, and Sarah wondered if Mei Mei always dressed this well or if she was on her way out. That reminded Sarah that she was supposed to say something.
                  “What an amazing view you have, you can see my whole street. That’s my backyard there, a little to the left. I don’t see Spooky anywhere, though.”
                  Sarah was scanning the enormous hill, which sloped down from this window to the fence at the back of her house and others on her street. The lots up here were much larger than in her development. She’d seen them before from her side, but it wasn’t nearly so impressive looking up. Mei Mei was staring at her, but Sarah continued to look out at the smooth lawn and well-placed trees and rocks that made up Mei Mei’s backyard. It looked natural, if only nature planned for perfect views.
                  “I remember seeing you play down there when you were a child,” Mei Mei said, smiling briefly. “You haven’t changed much. You still look so strong and have such beautiful blond hair. When my Robert was born, I’d sit here and rock him and see you running in the sprinklers. You must have been five or six. I’d watch you turn cartwheels through the water or shape yourself into letters of the alphabet. When my children were older, I let them play in the sprinklers, but they never seemed to enjoy it the way you did.”
                  Funny how this elegant, refined woman nodded at the end of her stories, just the way Sarah’s mom had. Sarah slipped into the pattern of exchanging stories, but she mostly kept her eyes to the window, anxious under Mei Mei’s intense gaze.
                  “I once carved a fort out of those blackberry bushes along our fence. They were so dense I could just use yard shears and hack away anything I didn’t want. One of the tunnels I cut led to the back corner where I could see between the fence boards into your yard. I saw your kids; they must have been two or three at the time. The boy, Robert I guess, was wearing a white and blue sailor suit. The girl had a lacy white party dress. They ran on the grass, but never fought with each other or mussed their clothes. I’d like to say they reminded me of a famous painting, but at the time, I thought of it as a picture on a greeting card. Guess that’s my American heritage. But they did seem like wonderful children.”
                  “I wish you’d come by. I would have liked to meet you, maybe convinced you to babysit, but I thought it would be odd to go down to your house and ask. You didn’t seem to have many visitors. Your mother was a very private person.”
                  Sarah met Mei Mei’s eyes, trying to guess what she was really saying. What had this woman seen looking down into their lives? They’d mostly kept the curtains closed, but on summer nights Sarah’s room and the family room must have been lit like a stage. Their performances were probably disappointing. It was true that they never had visitors. Her mother didn’t date or socialize, and Sarah had usually been too embarrassed to bring friends home to a house