bunny staring down a hole full of carrots, I just had to leap and bite. I had no idea how apt that comparison really was. Luckily we were relatively alone, with Shane snoring softly a few yards in front of me, the blankets still pulled up over his head. “What do you mean by that?”
“Once,” she said, lowering her voice, “I screwed a Rabbit.”
I blinked. “Once? Once when ?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“And you thought this was a bright idea because…?”
“Lighten up,” Andrea replied and refilled her water cup. She swirled it around like a brandy snifter. “He was cute. Huge,” she said significantly. Then she stuck out her tongue. “Covered in tattoos, though, weird ones.”
“Let me guess, there was a tally tattooed on him somewhere with how many women he managed to knock up.”
“Maybe,” she replied casually. “It was dark. There was some Latin around his neck, a big rabbit on his shoulder that looked like it was on steroids.”
“So they’ve embraced their nickname?” I laughed. “How forward-thinking of them. I don’t suppose you used protection?”
Andrea threw back her head of long, dark hair and laughed. The floppy hat perched on her head nearly tumbled down her back. “I’m on the pill. Big idiot thought he was getting the last laugh.”
“Well, when the syphilis develops I think he probably will.”
That was the most eventful conversation of the day. Thank God. The boat continued north, out into a broader waterway, away from the tip of Discovery Park, and then farther north, north beyond beaches and coasts I had never seen and only glimpsed on a map. The rugged green outline of the shore remained more or less the same, dotted at random with buildings and homes. Shane was restless, contented only when I sat with him and said nothing as he watched the birds hovering over the water.
We needed to talk.
“What happened with Carl…” God, this sucked. It’s always easier to self-flagellate in your mind. The shame is amplified a few hundred times when you have to say it aloud. To a kid. A kid that you let down in a big, big way. “I made a rotten choice. I wasn’t thinking straight, letting him hang around with us. Sometimes … adults are clumsy and make stupid decisions. We were sort of safe, I thought, and I got careless.”
Shane stared down at his hands, his fingertips red where he had picked at the nails. God only knows how many neuroses brought on by my moronic behavior.
“I miss your mom and dad,” I said finally, hearing the catch in my voice. “She wouldn’t have done something so … so thoughtless.”
I just wanted something … one word … one indication that he didn’t hate me to the core.
“It’s not going to happen again.” I gestured to each compass point on the boat and lowered my voice. “These people? We’re with them, but it’s really just you and me, right? They could turn out okay, but from now on I’m only going to worry about you.”
“You don’t like them?” he asked, looking up at me finally.
“It’s not that,” I said quickly. “Like I said … they might be okay, but you matter most.”
And with that, he nodded, whispering a breathy, “I guess that’s okay,” before staring back down at his red fingers. Okay. One word. One indication. It would have to be enough for now.
* * *
It’s amazing how quickly the options for diversion are exhausted on a boat. Uncle Arturo never spoke much but he was nice enough to lend Andrea and me a deck of ancient playing cards. Cross-legged on the deck, with the water swishing by and the clouds gathering overhead, Andrea and I played gin rummy when Shane decided to nap next to us. Arm’s reach, I insisted—if he didn’t want to play cards he would have to at least stay at arm’s reach.
Sadly, there was no actual gin to accompany the rummy.
“What’s the verdict on Scrubs McBloodstains?”
I glanced over my shoulder, following Andrea’s eye line. The
“Once,” she said, lowering her voice, “I screwed a Rabbit.”
I blinked. “Once? Once when ?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“And you thought this was a bright idea because…?”
“Lighten up,” Andrea replied and refilled her water cup. She swirled it around like a brandy snifter. “He was cute. Huge,” she said significantly. Then she stuck out her tongue. “Covered in tattoos, though, weird ones.”
“Let me guess, there was a tally tattooed on him somewhere with how many women he managed to knock up.”
“Maybe,” she replied casually. “It was dark. There was some Latin around his neck, a big rabbit on his shoulder that looked like it was on steroids.”
“So they’ve embraced their nickname?” I laughed. “How forward-thinking of them. I don’t suppose you used protection?”
Andrea threw back her head of long, dark hair and laughed. The floppy hat perched on her head nearly tumbled down her back. “I’m on the pill. Big idiot thought he was getting the last laugh.”
“Well, when the syphilis develops I think he probably will.”
That was the most eventful conversation of the day. Thank God. The boat continued north, out into a broader waterway, away from the tip of Discovery Park, and then farther north, north beyond beaches and coasts I had never seen and only glimpsed on a map. The rugged green outline of the shore remained more or less the same, dotted at random with buildings and homes. Shane was restless, contented only when I sat with him and said nothing as he watched the birds hovering over the water.
We needed to talk.
“What happened with Carl…” God, this sucked. It’s always easier to self-flagellate in your mind. The shame is amplified a few hundred times when you have to say it aloud. To a kid. A kid that you let down in a big, big way. “I made a rotten choice. I wasn’t thinking straight, letting him hang around with us. Sometimes … adults are clumsy and make stupid decisions. We were sort of safe, I thought, and I got careless.”
Shane stared down at his hands, his fingertips red where he had picked at the nails. God only knows how many neuroses brought on by my moronic behavior.
“I miss your mom and dad,” I said finally, hearing the catch in my voice. “She wouldn’t have done something so … so thoughtless.”
I just wanted something … one word … one indication that he didn’t hate me to the core.
“It’s not going to happen again.” I gestured to each compass point on the boat and lowered my voice. “These people? We’re with them, but it’s really just you and me, right? They could turn out okay, but from now on I’m only going to worry about you.”
“You don’t like them?” he asked, looking up at me finally.
“It’s not that,” I said quickly. “Like I said … they might be okay, but you matter most.”
And with that, he nodded, whispering a breathy, “I guess that’s okay,” before staring back down at his red fingers. Okay. One word. One indication. It would have to be enough for now.
* * *
It’s amazing how quickly the options for diversion are exhausted on a boat. Uncle Arturo never spoke much but he was nice enough to lend Andrea and me a deck of ancient playing cards. Cross-legged on the deck, with the water swishing by and the clouds gathering overhead, Andrea and I played gin rummy when Shane decided to nap next to us. Arm’s reach, I insisted—if he didn’t want to play cards he would have to at least stay at arm’s reach.
Sadly, there was no actual gin to accompany the rummy.
“What’s the verdict on Scrubs McBloodstains?”
I glanced over my shoulder, following Andrea’s eye line. The
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