o ce for a while … but I don’t think it ended wel . One of my cousins went into the CIA, but I’m not al owed to say which one. This is so

frustrating!”

We weren’t, thankful y, locked in a cel . Instead, we’d been marched into an interrogation room, although nobody had thought to interrogate us

yet. Maybe they were just watching through the mirror to see if we’d confess something to each other.

I was surprised by how wel Lily was taking our incarceration. She was far from a wee timorous beastie—if anything, I was the one who was

jangled as we were ramrodded into custody. None of the police o cers seemed particularly impressed that neither of us had parents who were

currently within bailing-out distance. Lily ended up cal ing her brother. I ended up cal ing Boomer, who happened to be with Yohnny and Dov at

the time.

“It’s al over the news!” Boomer told me. “Some people are cal ing you heroes and others are saying you’re criminals. The videos are al over the

Web. I think you might even make the six o’clock news.”

This was not how I’d seen the day going.

Lily and I hadn’t been read our rights or o ered a lawyer, so I was guessing we hadn’t actual y been charged with anything yet.

Meanwhile, Boris was get ing hungry.

“I know, I know,” Lily responded to his whining. “Hopeful y your daddy doesn’t have Internet where he is.”

I tried to think of interesting conversational topics to bring up. Had she been named after the ower? How long had she been dog walking?

Wasn’t she relieved that none of the o cers had thought to use a bil y club against us?

“You’re uncharacteristical y quiet,” she said, sit ing down at the interrogation table and taking the red notebook from her jacket pocket. “Do you

want to write something down and pass it over to me?”

“Do you have a pen?” I asked.

She shook her head. “It’s in my bag. And they took my bag.”

“I guess we’l have to talk, then,” I said.

“Or we could take the Fifth.”

“Is this your rst time in prison?” I asked.

Lily nodded. “You?”

“My mom once had to bail my father out, and there wasn’t anybody at home to watch me. So I came along. I must’ve been seven or eight. At rst

she told me he’d had a lit le accident, which made me think he’d peed himself somewhere inconvenient. Then I was told it had been ‘disorderly

conduct’—it never went to trial, so there’s no paper trail.”

“That’s awful,” Lily said.

“I guess it is. At the time, it just seemed normal. They got divorced soon after.”

Boris started to bark.

“Not a fan of divorce, I see,” I observed.

“His treats are also in my bag,” Lily said with a sigh.

For a minute or two, she closed her eyes. Just sat there and let everything else drift away, become beside the point. I didn’t mind that I, too, was

disappearing. She looked like she needed a break, and I was wil ing to give it to her.

“Here, Boris,” I said, at empting to be friendly with the beast. He looked at me warily, then started licking the oor.

“I guess I’m nervous to be meeting you,” Lily said at long last, eyes stil closed.

“I guess I’m nervous to be meeting you,” Lily said at long last, eyes stil closed.

“Likewise,” I assured her. “I nd I very rarely live up to my words. And since you know me primarily through my words, there are oh so many

ways I can disappoint.”

She opened her eyes. “It’s not just that. It’s just the last time you saw me—”

“—you weren’t yourself. Don’t you think I know that?”

“Sure. But isn’t it possible that I was myself then? Maybe that’s who I’m supposed to be, only I don’t let her out a lot.”

“I think I like the dog-walking, baby-catching, truth-tel ing Lily bet er,” I said. “For what it’s worth.”

And that was the question, wasn’t it? What was it worth?

“That Lily landed us in jail,” Lily pointed out.

“Wel , you wanted danger, right? And, real y, it was Boris who landed us in jail. Or the red notebook that landed us in jail. The red notebook

was a great idea, by the way.”

“It was my brother’s,” Lily admit ed. “Sorry.”

“Wel , you’re the one who stuck with it, aren’t you?”

Lily nodded. “For what it’s worth.”

I pul ed my chair over so we were next to each other at the interrogation table.

“It’s de nitely worth something,” I said. “A lot. We stil don’t know each other, right? And I’l admit—I thought it might be best if we kept it al

to the page, passed that notebook back and forth until we were ninety. But clearly that wasn’t meant to be. And who am I to blow against the

wind?”

Lily blushed. “ ‘And what did you do on your rst date, Lily?’ ‘Wel , we went down to the precinct house and grabbed two Styrofoam cups of

water.’ ‘That seems very romantic.’ ‘Oh, it was.’ ”

“ ‘So what did you do for a second date?’ ” I continued. “ ‘Wel , we gured we’d have to rob a bank. Only it ended up being a sperm bank, and

we were accosted by angry mommies-to-be in the waiting room. So it was back to the jailhouse for us.’ ‘That sounds exciting.’ ‘Oh, it was. And it

went on. Now when I have to remember a date, al I have to do is consult my rap sheet.’ ”

“ ‘And what drew you to her?’ ” she asked.

“ ‘Wel ,’ ” I answered the phantom interviewer, “ ‘I’d have to say it was the way she catches babies. Exquisite, real y. And you? What made you

think, Wow, this gent’s a keeper?’ ”

“ ‘I love a man who doesn’t let go of the leash, even when it leads him to ruin.’ ”

“Wel done,” I said. “Wel done.”

I thought Lily would be happy with this compliment. But instead she sighed and slumped down in her chair.

“What?” I asked.

“What about So a?” she said.

“So a?”

“Yes. Boomer mentioned So a.”

“Ah, Boomer.”

“Do you love her?”

I shook my head. “I can’t love her. She lives in Spain.”

Lily laughed. “I guess you get points for truthfulness.”

“No, real y,” I said. “I think she’s great. And I honestly like her about twenty times more now than I did when we were dating. But love needs to

have a future. And So a and I don’t have a future. We’ve just had a good time sharing the present, that’s al .”

“You real y think love needs to have a future?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good,” Lily said. “So do I.”

“Good,” I echoed, leaning in. “So do you.”

“Don’t repeat what I say,” she told me, swat ing at my arm.

“Don’t repeat what I say,” I murmured, smiling.

“You’re being sil y,” she said, but the sil iness was fal ing out of her voice.

“You’re being sil y,” I assured her.

“Lily is the greatest girl who ever was.”

I drew closer. “Lily is the greatest girl who ever was.”

For a moment, I think we’d forgot en where we were.

And then the o cers returned, and we were reminded once again.

“Wel ,” said O cer White, who was black, “you’l be happy to know that the videos of your exploits this afternoon have already garnered two

hundred thousand hits on YouTube. And you were captured at pret y much every angle possible—it’s impressive that the statue of George

Washington didn’t whip out an iPhone and email the photos to his friends.”

“We’ve looked at al the footage closely,” said O cer Black, who was white, “and have come to the conclusion that there’s only one guilty party

in this room.”

“I know, sir,” I stepped in. “It was al my fault. Real y, she had nothing to do with it.”

“No, no, no,” Lily disagreed. “I was the one who hung that poster. It was a joke. But that made the mommies go a lit le crazy.”

“Seriously,” I said, turning to Lily, “you did nothing but help. It’s me they wanted.”

“No, I’m the one they thought was stealing the baby. And believe me, I don’t even want a baby.”

“Neither of you is to blame,” O cer White interrupted.