The Moon Tells Secrets by Savanna Welles

question.
    â€œSo you’re definitely relocating like you said last night?”
    â€œYeah, probably.” I studied the streaks the sponge had left on the table because I didn’t want my eyes to meet his. “I’m not exactly sure when—a few weeks, maybe.”
    â€œOr the end of the summer.” He shifted his gaze away then back to me. “Raine, you’ll forgive me for asking you this, like I know I just met you, but are you running away from someone? Like Davey’s father, maybe?” I heard in his voice what the kids in school must have heard when they were scared or in trouble, and what whomever he had shared this house with had probably seen when he held her close. I felt like one of those kids, wondered how it would be to unburden myself to someone with such tenderness in his eyes. I thought about Elan, then made myself stop.
    â€œDavey’s father is dead. I’m a widow. Davey’s father died shortly before he was born,” I said quickly, hoping that would be enough. He went to the counter and poured a cup of coffee, nodded at me, asking if I’d like some, too, and I told him I would. “So how long have you known Luna?” I changed the subject; I didn’t want to tell him anything else, let those thoughtful eyes pull anything out of me.
    â€œAbout a year and a half. She and Dennie…” He began again. “She and my late wife, Denice, were good friends. So I guess you’ve known Luna all your life.” He took a swallow of coffee; he was changing the subject, too.
    â€œNo, I just met her.”
    â€œYou’re not serious?” he said, sitting back down.
    â€œYeah, actually I am.” The coffee was hot and bitter. I like mine sweet, half filled with milk. Two teaspoons of sugar, three when I’m by myself. He must have noticed my distaste.
    â€œForgot to ask, want some milk? I take mine black. I’m out of sugar. Got some honey, though.” He took a carton of milk out of the refrigerator and placed it in front of me.
    â€œThis is fine.” I’d picked up the whiff of sour milk when he put the carton on the table.
    â€œBut then how did she know that you were coming? I couldn’t believe it. It was like she was waiting for you,” he asked, getting back to Luna.
    â€œLet’s just say my family has a sense of things to come. I’ll leave it at that.”
    â€œAnd do you have a sense of things to come, too?” He was obviously curious; I almost hated to disappoint him.
    â€œNo. Mostly I try to believe in the here and now, what I can see, hear, feel, or touch.” I was lying and wondered if he knew it. I didn’t understand what was chasing us or why Davey was the way he was. There was no such thing as the here and now.
    â€œMostly?” he said with a hint of amusement touched with something I couldn’t identify, but he didn’t ask me to explain, so I didn’t.
    Davey came in then, Pinto yelping at his heels. Seeing the two of them together like that, suddenly old friends, made me grin. Ever since he was old enough to see the “ideal” family on TV—mom, dad, two kids, family dog—he had yearned for a pet—dog, cat, guinea pig, anything—since the dad and two kids thing was obviously off the table. He’d begged me so often for a pet, I’d actually thought about giving in, and then I’d think about our reality and know it couldn’t work. Traveling around too much, I used to tell him. It’s hard to keep a dog in an apartment. But there was something else, darker, that I didn’t ever say, and when he got old enough to understand, he stopped bringing it up altogether. Animals were a threat to him. Even small ones. A pet might see him as prey or become his victim.
    â€œDid you all have a good time out there?” I asked, and Davey nodded.
    â€œHe likes to catch. He’s kind of old, but he still likes to do it.” He