Now I was asking him to remain inside uncertainty.
It was uncomfortable.
It was also necessary.
I stood.
“I’m going home.”
Daniel looked toward the stairs.
“The kids wanted dessert with you.”
“Then I’ll stay for dessert.”
Rebecca stood too.
“I made pie.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“From scratch?”
She frowned.
“I am capable of using an oven.”
“I have four years of evidence to the contrary.”
For one second she stared at me.
Then she laughed.
It was small and surprised.
So was mine.
Daniel looked between us as if he had missed a meeting.
Dessert was awkward and lovely.
Emily showed me thirty-seven photographs.
Twenty-two were of the ocean.
Eight were of hotel breakfasts.
Four contained only her own fingers.
Jack showed me a shell he had found and explained that he had returned it to the beach because a sign said visitors should leave natural objects where they found them.
