in.
'It's nice at night, sleeping to the country sounds, the breeze up from the creek. Bathroom's across the hall. Towels, toothpaste, whatever you need.'
'Your dad's great.'
'I like him.'
'How soon does he need a liver transplant?'
'Soon.'
'I like your skin.'
Paul Prescott was showing the girl how to pet an ostrich.
'Aw, I look like a big ol' pumpkin.'
They started walking down to the creek. The girl had told him about their travels and name changes. He had offered to show her the ostriches and the creek while her mother got settled into the spare bedroom.
'You're a lucky girl, Jessie. I've been stuck with the same name my whole life.'
'Esmeralda was my favorite name. Esmeralda Bustamante.'
'Why's that?'
'When I said it, it was like I was singing.'
Paul sang: 'Esmeralda, Esmeralda, my sweet Esmeralda… You're right, it is a song. You like to sing?'
'It's my dream. I want to be a country singer, like Carrie Underwood.'
'Well, now, that little gal can sing. Can you?'
Frankie said, 'It's nice out here.'
They had come outside looking for Andy's father and her daughter and so Frankie could smoke. Andy tossed a stick for Max to fetch. The dog shot off and returned with a stick-but not the same stick.
'We haven't had a real home in three years. Before that we lived with Mickey, which didn't make for a great home life for either of us. It's nice to see a normal family.'
'Us? Normal? An alcoholic country-western singer waiting for a liver transplant, a leftist art history professor who's been arrested for protesting wars and football God knows how many times, and a traffic ticket lawyer who rides a trail bike? What's normal about that?'
'No one's getting drunk and hitting each other.'
'The Prescotts are a non-violent people. You want to see my mom's studio?'
'Sure.'
They walked into the barn and back to the studio. Frankie studied the clay angel sculpture.
'She's good.'
'So are you.'
'This was my dream-my own studio, a place to draw and paint and sculpt.' She was quiet. 'Just wasn't meant to be.'
'You're only twenty-eight, Frankie. Your life's not over.'
'I've got a billionaire chasing me. It might be.'
'I'm here.'
'Yes, you are. And so am I. And Jessie. We're all here, Andy.'
'I'm sorry, Frankie.'
They went outside and saw Jessie running toward them. She didn't look like a kid with a ticking time bomb inside her.
'Mom!'
His father followed behind.
'Paul's going to teach me to play the guitar.'
'That's great, honey.'
His father arrived and said, 'This little gal, she can sing.'
'That's her dream.'
Paul Prescott patted Jessie on the head. 'Let's go pick some tomatoes for dinner. My tomatoes are as red as your hair. Where'd you get that red from? Not your mama.'
'Red hair is recessive, Dad.'
He gave Andy a funny look. 'Okay.'
Jessie and his father headed over to the garden.
'I'd better help,' Frankie said.
She followed them. Andy watched after her a moment, then went back up to the house. He walked through the back door just as his mother entered through the front door with Earth-friendly canvas grocery bags in each arm. He took them from her, and they walked into the kitchen.
'I stopped at Whole Foods on the way home,' she said. 'Thought we'd have salmon. Where are they?'
'Picking tomatoes.'
She walked onto the back porch and looked out toward the garden.
'How old is the girl? Eight, nine?'
'Eight.'
'And her mother?'
'Twenty-eight.'
'Oh, I saw your girlfriend, the blonde. At Whole Foods. She was talking to a guy.'
'Who?'
'I didn't ask.'
'Did he look like a lawyer?'
'Now that you mention it, he did.'
'Richard Olson. He drives a Porsche.'
'What's going on, Andy? With them?'
Paul Prescott said, 'He gave you tickets to the biggest game of the year? Good Lord, don't tell your mother. What'd he want from you?'
'I already gave it to him. That's why they're here.'
Frankie and Jessie had gone upstairs to clean up before dinner. Andy had parked the Toyota in the barn and was walking up to the house with his father. They found his mother in the kitchen, and Andy told them the rest of the story: his trips to Boston and Montana, Hollis McCloskey and Lorenzo Escobar, and the DNA from the Band- Aid.
'He thinks Jessie is his daughter.'
'Is she?'
'The DNA says yes.'
'What does Frankie say?'
'She says no.'
'I figure the mother would know.'
'He says she might have the same cancer gene he gave his son. Says he just wants to save her from Zach's fate. Why would he lie about that?'
Andy's cell phone rang; it was Russell Reeves. He went out onto the back porch and answered.
'Andy, have you found her?'
'Not yet.'
'Why's it taking so long?'
'She's smart, Russell. She knows we're looking for her. How's Zach?'
'Not good.'
'Tell him hi for me.'
'Come tell him yourself.'
'I will.'
There was silence on the line.
'Russell?'
'Andy, you're not lying to me, are you?'
'No. I'm gonna come see Zach.'
