His shoulders moved in a sigh, and he turned around to lean against the handrail. I hoped the flaking white paint wouldn’t stick to his jeans, but was more concerned with why he hadn’t answered me yet.
“Is sh—”
“She’s fine. Just woke up. She’s glad I’m here.” He was frowning at my bare feet, and I noticed the chill seeping from the damp planks.
I stepped forward onto a patch of sun. “Then what’s wrong?” As soon as I heard my stupidity, I winced. “I mean, other than the fact that your wife is pregnant with something that’s either awe-inspiring or just plain awful.”
Silence. Then his mouth twitched. “That about covers the main points.”
A laugh burbled up from my stomach. I tried to hold it in, but that only made the moment seem funnier. Adam’s eyes widened as I started shaking and the tendons in his neck tightened. Then the floodgates opened—complete with my stupid Mogwai noises—and for the next couple of minutes we laughed ourselves silly. It was the dumbest, most infantile thing we could have done, and I was so very, very glad that poor Cara wasn’t there.
Finally, we were spent, our faces streaked in helpless tears. It took me a moment to realize he was still wiping his eyes after mine were dry, and when he turned back to the marsh, I waited. The egret flapped away, and the sunlight pooled over my feet to warm my ankles.
“She’d like you and Eileen to come over tomorrow. She wants to talk to you and thought Eileen might like to play with our mutt and puppies. The litter’s only a few weeks old, but they’ll keep her busy for hours.” He glanced sideways at me. “Does she like dogs?”
I resisted the urge to pat his arm like my child had, and settled for making my voice soft. “She loves them.”
He nodded at the marsh. “We can grill out or something. Burgers?”
“How ‘bout I bring some veggies?”
“Vegetarian?”
“Yeah, well . . . when even light tries to communicate, it’s hard to believe animals are any less evolved.” Yep. I was weird.
He faced me again, curiosity brightening his red-rimmed eyes. “So’s Cara.”
“Great, I’ll bring—”
He waved away my attempted offer. “I’ll handle the food. And draw you a map.”
Ha. Funny man.
Puzzles and Puppies
After Adam left, I called the shop to thank Maureen for inviting me last night. My grandmother would’ve been proud that I remembered, considering my mind was far, far from thoughts of societal norms.
“I’m thrilled you showed up!” Maureen was as effusive as ever, “And I bet Phil that you’d at least get a little cozy with Sal—so did you?”
“Please. When you forgot to ask his name, you also forgot to ask if he was twenty-one. You probably served a minor.”
Eileen came out of the bathroom, hair dripping and body wrapped in a towel. I waved her on—though that didn’t keep her from raising an eyebrow in my general direction before walking into her bedroom.
“Whatever, Lila. He knew that old show.”
“Old? Thanks a lot.”
“Phil said it was in black and white—that is old!”
“He would know. Besides, I’m sure Sal saw it on some ‘classic shows’ channel or something.” It was already in syndication even when I was a kid, but I wasn’t about to give her any room for argument.
“Lila. Seriously. What is it with you and his age? Even if he is young—which I don’t think he is—why do you care?”
“I don’t care. In principle. For other people.” Like y’all. “But I have . . . responsibilities.” I hoped she’d take the hint and let it drop because without a doubt Eileen was eavesdropping. Not that my kid could really help it with only one wall between her ears and my agitation.
“That doesn’t mean you can’t have fun. He really likes you!”
“What in the world gave you that idea?”
“Oops . . . customer. Gotta go. I slipped him your number. You can thank me later. See you Monday!”
I stared at my cell after she ended the call. Dating potential? The only reason to see him again would be to find out about his superpower. I snorted. Wilmington had seemed like a normal place with normal people until last night. Except for me, of course.
“What’s funny?” Eileen stood in her bedroom doorway, swaddled in her fluffy robe with the damp towel lumped in her arms.
“Nothing. Maureen being silly.” I eyed the towel. “I forgot I started a load of clothes this morning, will you put them in the dryer?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks, hon.” When she went back into the bathroom-slash-laundry-room, I slumped across the kitchen counter again. I’d almost forgotten about Sal’s über-vision, which at any other time would have been shocking enough to consume me. My tolerance for the non-norm was increasing exponentially by the hour. Which was more fantastic? An Adonis with x-ray vision or an immaculate conception?
I gasped and stood erect again. Maybe Adam was right about the puzzle. What were the odds that someone with my senses, and someone with Sal’s, would end up at a dinner party with someone like—
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Now Eileen was watching from the bathroom doorway.
“Hadn’t planned on it.” Her face fell and maternal guilt swept over me. I scooted over and wrapped my arms around her in a big squish of robe and towel. It was like hugging a sad-eyed stuffed animal. “I’m sorry, Leeni. It’s just that some stuff is too grown-up, you know?”
She pulled back with a grossed-out look. “You mean sex stuff?”
“Mmm, no. Just . . . complicated.”
She sighed, and for the zillionth time, I wished angels would help me out with a flicker or two—just a hint to help me be a better mother—but none were ever around her. Occasionally close by, like on the porch, but they never seemed to belong to her. I’d worried about that a lot when she was born.
“Fine. Whatever.” Her resignation wasn’t gracious, but it would have to do.
“I forgot to tell
