Page 42 of Give & Take

Daniel’s shoulders slump at my icy tone. “Sorry. I was just…I’m not used to being accosted.”

“I wouldn’t call that, accosted, would you?”

I’m done with him now. He’s just not used to being stood up to. But I don’t bother telling him that. Instead I say, “You need to leave now.”

“Can I call you?”

My jaw actually drops.

To his minor credit, Daniel holds his hands up. “Okay. Gotcha.” Finally, he turns and sulks back to his Land Rover.

I stand there at the top of the stairs, waiting until the lights of his car have disappeared around the corner. Then I sag against the door, inhaling the cool night air, waiting for my pulse to drop back to normal.

Finally, I open the door again.

But as I flick off the light, I swear, in the disappearance of brightness, a shadow moves at the edge of the house, next to the path Raphael walked a moment before.

Chapter 13

Raphael

The whole next week is sunny, but today there’s a little wind, white puffs of clouds scuttling across the blue sky. Sunlight glitters like jewels on the rippling surface of the ocean, and down by the water, the girls sing Taylor Swift as they decorate our epic sandcastle with sticks and shells.

“You’re not allowed to do this part,” Aurora told me when I tried to help. “It’s a surprise.”

So here I am sitting in the sand, staring once more at the Rusty Dinghy down the beach, hoping for just a single glimpse of Lana to settle my disappointment.

These two kids are shaping up to be my favorite people under ten in the whole world. I love battling with Nova. And Aurora’s absolute delight with the parts of the world we all overlook like the bug with green eyes we saw this morning. I have no papers to grade, no classes to teach. No big-city smog clogging my lungs. I get to play for the summer.

Some vague part of me reminds me that playing forthe summer isn’t continuing my quest to find my life’s purpose. That I have plans—to travel to every continent. To visit the birthplace of ten of my favorite authors and philosophers. To eat strange food and volunteer as a smoke jumper or something.

To do things like wrap up my PhD, though that’s kind of an afterthought at this point.

But this summer has turned out differently than I planned.

I met Lana, and suddenly, she’s the focal point of all my desires, and not just the naked kind, though those are there in spades. More than I’ve ever felt before.

But it’s way more than that.

I love people. I’m fascinated by people. My mom tells me I used to talk to the cashiers at the grocery store when I was a kid, strangers in the park.

But I don’t think I’ve ever been so singularly focused on just one person the way I am with her. I forget all my rules about attachment when I’m with her. I want to tease her apart. To know everything there is about her.

To see that smile twist under that frown.

Who knew the ice queen thing was my Kryptonite.

I washaving fun up until a minute ago, and that was distracting enough. But now that I’m not actively digging a three-foot wide moat or debating the structural integrity of a sand-bridge with an eight year old, I’m right back in my head, replaying that night with her date for the thousandth time.

I was sure she was going to come upstairs and ream me out after what I did. I prayed she would, just to get to talk to her again. But she didn’t. I lay there for longerthan I care to admit, knowing if I went downstairs I’d only make it worse.

But I couldn’t apologize for what I’d done. That guy was a fucking asshole for what he said to her.

Except that weekend I’d promised Mac I’d spend the day helping him put their nursery together. I didn’t see her again until Monday morning. Then she’d barely said a word to me, just like the next day and the next.

Things are weird, and it’s all my fucking fault. But we’re on this strange knife-edge of okay. She hasn’t fired me. But I feel like if we talk about anything beyond my job with the kids, she’ll see how crazy she is for keeping me on.

I run a hand through my hair before fixing my ball cap back on my head and flopping back on the sand. Working for Lana is fucking with me. My usually positive attitude feels like it’s short-circuiting.

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