“That bad, huh?
“I said all right. Don’t push it.”
Austin laughed, and that sound loosened something painful inside my chest. I had not heard him laugh like that since autumn.
“So,” I said, “do I get a name? Or am I supposed to guess?”
His gaze shifted somewhere beyond my shoulder. “She’s meeting me here.”
“Meeting you. Here. That’s bold of her.”
“Mom.”
“What? I promise to be normal. Mostly normal. I have a camera and a will to use it.”
Austin shook his head, smiling down at the floor. “Just don’t ask a thousand questions, okay?”
“No promises.”
“Mom. Please.”
“Go wait on the porch. I’ll grab the camera.”
I took it from the counter, slipped the strap around my wrist, and went outside after him. I rested against the porch rail beside my son and waited for a shy girl in a pastel dress.
Then headlights washed across the driveway.
The car door opened with a quiet click.
