Page 21 of Stony Point Summer
“And God damn it, that’s when I knew,” he says. “There wasn’t another foot to test. I’dcompletelyforgotten that half my leg was gone.”
“But why?” Maris asks, her hovering spoon dripping with melting ice cream. “How could you forget?”
Jason gives a short laugh. “It happens. In a moment. In a state of mind. And that morning, I wasn’t thinking straight about a lot of things. You, included.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. I’d planned on driving home to see you the night before, but changed my mind at the last minute. The next morning, I fell.” He digs into his ice cream, takes a mouthful, then tells her, “The morning after our anniversary.”
Hearing those words, it just happens. Maris briefly closes her eyes—without letting on that she did thesamething. On thatsamenight, she’d sat on their deck with her phone in hand. Sat there, looked out at the night, heard the waves breaking on the bluff, looked at the phone. But never called his number.
When she hears Jason’s next words—Serves me right—hears them so quiet it’s not clear if he’s telling himself or her, she reaches across the table. Again her fingers slide over the fading bruise in a feather touch.
But she says nothing.
Because, really, what more is there to say? In his few words, Jason said it all. So they spoon ice cream in silence for several long seconds until he breaks that silence.
“Busy day today?” he asks.
“Busy?”
“You must’ve been out doing things? Because I talked to my producer—”
“Trent?”
Jason nods, then swallows a mouthful of ice cream.
“What’s Trent got to do with me?” Maris asks.
“He mentioned he saw you, that’s all. Said you pulled something off? Something … pretty amazing?”
“Trent said that?”
“He did. But he was cryptic.”
“Oh.” Maris scoops a spoonful of her melting chocolate ice cream. “Yeah, I guess we did cross paths. Earlier.”Several times, she thinks. She and Trent crossed paths whenever she moved to another spot in Mitch Fenwick’s cottage. Staying close to his cameraman, Trent encouraged her to ignore the camera and speak freely—as if talking to a friend. It was all part of a secret guided tour for aCastaway Cottagesegment. Mitch and Carol walked her through each cottage room, each nook and cranny that inspired passages in Neil’s unfinishedDriftlinemanuscript. The whole segment will be a surprise for Jason, one where Maris explains to viewers Neil’s deep-rooted connection to the TV show’s latest reno.
But she tells Jason none of that. Instead she gives him a small smile and a shrug. Apparently Trent told him nothing more, either. So her secret’s safe.
“That’s it?” Jason asks. “You … crossed paths.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Okay. Guess I’m out of the loop.” Another long beat of silence, then, “So where you coming from now?” Jason asks.
“Out … Errands. You know.”
“Yeah.” He lifts another spoonful of his triple-scoop ice cream. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. Because I need some clothes from home. For work. Some gear from my studio, too.”
“Oh, no. No sir. You left, and now you can’t come in the house,” Maris tosses right back at him. “We agreed. Not unless you’relivingat home. Remember?”
Still holding his spoon, Jason turns up his hands. “Come on. Not even to pick up some things?”
“A deal’s a deal, Jason. You’ll come inside and want to park yourself there. Be back home on a whim, just like that. Nope.” She drags her spoon around the inside of her cup and pictures the mess of her covert, about-to-happen kitchen reno. “You fix what’s been bothering you yet?”
“Working on it.”
“Not good enough.”
