“See? I am! And no, I don’t have answers, but I could’ve gotten some—except I didn’t!” My eyes were stinging again, and I dug at them with my knuckles. “Get it now? I gave up! I was scared for Eileen and I just—”
“What about Eileen?!”
He sounded right on top of me and I jerked backwards. My brain registered that I was too tall for the hip-high railing just as Adam yanked me back to safety. In shock, I stood perfectly still. Twice in two weeks. The tendons in his neck were tight above his navy t-shirt.
“Thanks.” He was looking at me like I’d tried to leap over the railing on purpose. “I’m a klutz.” His grip on my shoulders tightened as I tried to pull away. “Look, I’m sorry, but—”
“You should be.” He moved me to the other side of the porch and planted me against the house. “Eileen is your daughter. She comes first. Always.” As his words slowly penetrated my own thick skull, I sank against the wall and he let me go. “Now. What can you tell me?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“You said you could get answers . . . from where? Can I get them?”
“No! Please don’t—”
“Hey, I won’t do anything.” He ducked his head to look me in the eye. “Don’t be scared.”
I shook my head. “I’m not scared!” But since that wasn’t entirely the truth, I added, “Not for me anyway.”
“How does Eileen come into all this?”
“I d-don’t know.” I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. The sun was low and weak behind the storm clouds, and the wind was so wet that my chills were normal for once. And my hair wasn’t helping as it flapped and tangled damply around my face. “The . . . person . . . who might know something, couldn’t talk to me because . . . they . . . were trying to protect her. Us.”
“Us? You and Eileen?”
“Adam, I’m so sorry,” I couldn’t bear the look in his eyes, “I tried to ask him about Cara, but he told me I had to leave—”
“Him?”
I bit my lip, but nodded. I didn’t know if he could make the leap to Sal, but I needed to distract him. “There’s someone else, too. An old friend of my grandmother’s. She seems to think there are secrets. In Wilmington.” It sounded ridiculous to say it out loud, but then again, how was it any more ridiculous than, oh, say, a woman who saw sentient sparkles of light, or a perfect male specimen who hadn’t aged in thirty years?
“Did you tell her about Cara?” He looked worried.
“No, I didn’t tell either of them anything. But . . . she did seem to be mentioning babies a lot. Babies and gifts.”
“Babies and gifts?”
“I know it sounds weird, but she seems to know I’m . . . well . . . I don’t think she knows exactly, but she brought up my grandmother . . . ” I thought back, trying to recreate the conversation in my head. “She said I should spend more time thinking about my own gifts, and less time worrying about other people’s . . . and then she told me to come back and see her after the storm.” Adam opened his mouth to say something, but I grabbed his arm. “The storm! That’s what started her. She thought the storm was my fault. She’d asked if . . . ” If I’d been talking about my secrets.
My hand dropped. The only people I’d told were Cara and Adam.
“How can a hurricane be your fault? That doesn’t make any sense.”
Was Sal trying to protect us from them? My heart throbbed in a lopsided, painful beat and I felt the crush of invisible weight against my chest again.
“Does it?” Adam’s eyes were strikingly green in the murky twilight.
I didn’t know him. Hadn’t wanted to meet him. Hadn’t helped Cara. Why was he here? I looked away. Thick wood covered every opening, even the glass on the back door. Which was probably still locked. The house was sealed. I shifted my weight backwards. Except the front door. Eileen. The storm. My baby.
“Lila?” He reached for my arm and I nearly screamed, but suddenly the air around us filled with angels. So many, that every drop of moisture in the air shimmered with the white and blue light of their reflections.
They’re telling you to trust him.
I swallowed. Yeah. Got that. I closed my eyes and allowed my lungs to fill with the cool evening wind.
“What’s wrong? Do you know what she meant?”
“Not a clue.”
“What’re you thinking?”
I shook my head.
“Lila, talk to me, please!”
“Nothing! Nothing worth sharing.”
“That’s bull—”
“I mean it! Remember how you wanted to see inside my head . . . ?” I turned to go find Eileen, “Well, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”
Final Preparations
In spite of my behavior, Adam followed me around to the front of the house. Though he did hover at the doorway until I waved him in.
“Adam!” Eileen popped up from the couch and set her laptop aside. “I fixed you soy milk and a muffin.” She pointed to the glass and plate waiting on the kitchen counter.
“Sounds . . . good?” He inspected the glass without touching it.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never tried soy milk,” I teased.
“Well . . . ”
“Don’t be a coward. You were a Marine!”
“Hey now, jarheads are meat-and-potatoes guys. You squeeze milk from cows, not beans.”
Eileen sauntered over and lifted the glass to him. “Chicken?”
“Why, you got any?”
“Just the one who’s scared of a bean.”
I covered my mouth in mock horror, but it was clear they enjoyed each other’s wit too much for me to bother trying to keep my daughter in check. How could I have thought for even a second that Adam was anything other than a good man?
He lost the staring contest and grabbed the drink, chugging it in one long breath. Banging the empty glass on the table, he spread his arms wide as if to say “done!” and Eileen clapped.
“How was it?”
“No idea. Drank too fast.” His watch beeped, and his smile faded. “Ah . . . I need to go. It’s almost eight,
