FIFTY-NINE

Before When Harry Met Sally, Meg Ryan played Betsy Andropoulos on As the World Turns.

Mary Lisa woke up half an hour later feeling loose and ready to take on the world. Jack was spooning her, his steady breath warm against the back of her neck, the weight of his arm around her waist. She turned, kissed him lightly on the tip of his nose, admired his thick long eyelashes and that stubborn jaw of his. She eased back a bit, took in the whole long length of him. Beautiful, just beautiful. And he was all hers.

She wriggled out of bed without waking him, threw on a T-shirt and shorts, and was whistling when she walked into the kitchen. She took a bottled water from the fridge. She hadn’t taken two drinks from the bottle when she sensed him more than heard him. She turned, smiling, handed him the bottle, and marched out the back door, saying over her shoulder, “Hey, how many calories do you think I burned up playing war with you?”

He considered this. “Enough for a couple of carrots at least.”

“That sounds great if they were on top of a pizza. Maybe a thin-crust pizza would be okay.”

“Another war game and you can have a thick crust.”

Her eyes on his mouth, she said, “I’ll see what we can come up with.”

He sat down on a deck chair, took a swig of water, then sat forward, rolling the cold bottle between his hands. He watched her lean against the railing, taking in the glorious late afternoon sun, the light afternoon breeze ruffling her hair.

He got to his feet, walked to the railing, and stood next to her. She looked thoughtful, so he kept his hands to himself for the moment. He looked out at the half dozen teenagers playing volleyball on the beach, yelling and laughing, and listened to the soft hiss of the breaking waves, foaming onto shore like fine lace. He said, not turning, “Living here on the beach there’s always the echo of the waves and laughter and muted conversation.” He paused a moment. “It’s nice.”

“Yes, it is. When it’s overcast and dismal, though, it gets pretty quiet, just the sound of the waves. I like that too, though I like it with people more.”

He turned to face her, pulled her up against him, and carried her to the chaise. He stretched her on her back and watched her turn boneless as a kid, her eyes closed as she leaned her head back against the cushion rest. He looked down at her a moment, and lightly traced his fingertips over her eyebrows. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“Nice eyebrows.”

“Do you know I’m told that all the time? Evidently the eyebrows are one of my best selling points.”

“I love your smart mouth.”

She gave him a sunny smile and sat up. She looked beyond him to wave back at a teenage boy who was clowning around to get her attention while another kid tried to stick a volleyball down his trunks. The girls hooted.

She said, “Did I tell you? Tomorrow I’ll have my very own SIG P232. The P stands for personal, you know. They’ve issued me a concealed weapons permit and I’ll be able to carry it in my purse.”

He leaned down, his hands on the arms of her deck chair, his face close to hers. He could see a light sheen of perspiration on her cheeks from the warm afternoon sun. “You don’t need a gun.”

She tapped her fingertips on the arms of her deck chair, kept looking out at the teenagers. “I bought the black hard-anodized aluminum alloy. It makes the SIG even lighter. Elizabeth has already taken me and Lou Lou to her shooting range three times now. She says I’m a natural, that I could compete if I worked at it. You should come with us, set your mind at rest.”

He actually hissed, and she looked him straight in the eye, her voice as serious as a claims adjuster’s. “I’ve got to be able to protect myself, Jack, okay? And there’s Chico-”

He gave it up. “Yeah, okay, Chico-Danny told me he’s well regarded. You’re in good hands with him. But I hate this.” He streaked his fingers through his dark hair, making it stand upright.

She gave him a huge grin. “Glory be, so karate is all right with you, even if I end up better than you in a couple of weeks? Don’t you sneer at me, I’m getting good. Oh, by the way, thank you for hiring Sergeant McClusky. Did you know the poor man has the beginnings of prostate problems and was using the bushes? Mrs. Deffenbach nearly caught him in the act last night. I offered him a bathroom, which he gratefully accepted.”

Jack stared at her, nonplussed. “The man’s a professional, he was a cop for thirty-five years. Are you saying you made him?”

“I’m afraid so. I know every car that belongs in the Colony, everyone does. He told me he’s using his son’s clever new hybrid, a Prius, and moves it around often. There are a couple of the hybrids in the Colony, which is the only reason I didn’t tune into him right away.”

“So he told you all about keeping an eye on your house at night?”

“Yep, he did. Sergeant Ed’s a very nice man, Jack. Even with you inside, I kind of like the idea that he’s outside.”

“Even with the extra protection, I’m thinking I could do more, like kidnap you, take you to Budapest. It’s a beautiful place.”

“I’d like to go, but I don’t have a vacation until the second week in September.”

He pictured them there, strolling hand in hand along the Danube, walking over one of the many bridges to the Pest side. He’d show her the bullet holes he’d seen gouged in some of the buildings by Russian guns in the long-ago revolution.

Mary Lisa roused herself, went to the railing, and called out, “Hey, anyone want some nonfat milk with some Oreos?”

There were yells and cheers, and the herd of teenagers stampeded toward them.

She said over her shoulder as she went into the kitchen, “It’ll cut down on their beer consumption, always a good thing. And who in the world doesn’t like Oreos?”

He marveled at her as she emptied a brand-new half-gallon carton of milk into a dozen glasses and handed out Oreos to the oil-coated, windblown, starving teenagers, all of whom appeared to know Mary Lisa, her kitchen, her bathroom, and her two televisions very well.

“Hey, you’re Mary Lisa’s cop, aren’t you?”

It was the teenage girl who’d helped him that day Mary Lisa was shot at on the beach. “Yeah, that’s me.”

A little milk mustache adorned her upper lip and she looked adorable with Oreo crumbs on her chin. She was also lovely enough to make a young man’s teeth ache to look at her, with her long streaked blond hair tousled and windblown, and an almost-but-not-quite thong covering a tad of her perfectly tanned butt. She said in a serious voice, her hand on his forearm, “My name’s Holly and I live four doors down. We all live around here. And I want you to know we’re keeping an eye on Mary Lisa. Nobody is going to shoot at her here again, that’s for sure.”

Jack put his hand on hers and said, “Thank you. I really appreciate that, Holly.”

He heard Mary Lisa laugh, let the sound settle deep into him, and knew he was right where he wanted to be. He supposed he might be living down here, maybe joining up with local law enforcement.

One of the teenagers turned on the TV and Jack wandered into the living room. He wanted to watch Elizabeth broadcast the news.

He heard a cell phone, heard Mary Lisa’s voice, then dead silence.

He couldn’t help it, he was on his feet and turning toward the kitchen when she walked out, still holding her cell phone open in her hand. If he didn’t know better he would have thought someone had whacked her on the head.

He was at her side in a moment, his hands on her shoulders, shaking her. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“Weirdest thing,” Mary Lisa said after a blank moment, looking up at him, “that was my mother.”