Page 39 of Not You Again
“Mm.” Adam had spent most of the loop trying to forget the past.
“Tell me about the duck,” Carly said.
“The duck?” He glanced at the woods, as if searching for one.
“You know what I’m talking about. The duck in the window by the fireplace.” She studied her hands. “It has a corkscrew for a penis.”
Ah, that duck.“It does.” He pursed his lips.
“Why?” Carly held a hand out, as if expecting him to place the answer into her palm.
“Well.” His gaze turned skyward. “The thing about male ducks, is that theydohave corkscrew-shaped penises. And my dad was going through a woodworking phase and thought this was quite funny. So he made a wine opener, using a corkscrew, and molding a duck around it.”
Carly pursed her lips and stared at a hummingbird flitting between overflowing planters. Eventually, she looked at him. “Cute, fluffy ducks that swim in ponds have penises shaped like corkscrews?”
“Yup.”
Carly smacked her palm against her thigh. “Okay, I regret asking about that.”
Adam tried to mask his smile.
“Everything is just... not what I expected. I mean, this is ahome.The kind of cozy ones you see in movies. Like, your house is so cutesy. I’ve never seen so much squirrel art.” She tapped her index finger against her chin. “Oh my God, the acorns! In the funeral home!”
“My dad made all of those, and these.” Adam waved a hand to the tiny ceramic squirrel family and the colorful nuts they chased after. His dad had placed this set on a corner of the porch.
Carly bent to inspect the squirrel figurines. “This squirrel is wearing glasses and a little bow tie!”
“That’s Smarty Squirrel.”
Carly raised an eyebrow. “They have names?”
“And backstories.” Adam clasped his hands together and rocked a bit.
“I feel like your dad could really be a working artist. I mean, that corkscrew duck would sell out in LA.”
He laughed. “I’m not sure he ever even thought it wasan option.” Adam’s parents weren’t risk takers. Unlike Carly’s dad, who’d pursued not only a dream of working on movies, but also opening his own theater, Adam’s parents had grown up in Julian, met in high school and never thought to pursue careers that weren’t the ones their parents had wanted for them.
And then, like swallowing a stone, the realization that Adam wasjustlike them hit. A nauseating wave at the fact that he hadn’t taken a risk with what he wanted to do, either. Maybe that was why he’d never even applied to Caltech.
Adam believed his parents were very much in love and happy with their lives, but maybe Carly was right. Why hadn’t his dad ever tried to sell his art? Was there a world where he could’ve pursued his passion and kept his job?
His thoughts were interrupted by the alarm on his watch. Carly stood and nodded to where the eclipse was about to make its debut. “It’s getting close.”
Adam reached for the camera bag. He unzipped the thing and pulled on the lens of the camera to bring it out. Which is when Carly swooped in with a “Woah, woah, woah.” She took the bag from Adam and swatted his hands away.
“You don’t grab a camera lens-first. Are you trying to break it?” she asked accusingly.
“Oh, right, your dad—the cameraman.” Adam felt more than a little foolish.
She smirked. “My dad, sure, but I majored in screenwriting and minored in video production. I can hit a power and record button just as well as anyone else.”
Carly held the case and took out the camera by grabbing the side of it. She uncapped the lens, looked through the viewfinder and gave a thumbs-up.
Something about the ease and authority she had while doing those steps had made Adam move closer. That peppermintsmell was faint, but present, and had the interesting effect of sending a bump of energy through him.
“Which area of the ground should I be capturing?”
He enjoyed this dynamic of them working together. Adam leaned in and pointed at a spot. “Right around those oak trees, you’ll see the bands appear in about fifteen seconds.”
