Page 112 of Never Forever

“All right. Here we go.” He took the burger out and put it on a paper plate I had stacked on the edge of the counter. He shook the fries so they filled the empty space and handed me the container. I sat down in the nook and tried another fry.

“Still good?” he asked.

I nodded and went after the fries like I hadn’t eaten in days. Which was sort of true, because did yogurt really count when there was no fruit on the bottom? When the fries were gone, he handed me a plastic fork from the bag and I finished the salad. That was enough. I was full. Satisfied. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Wow,” he said. “Morning sickness at night.”

“They don’t call it morning sickness if it’s at night, do they?”

“From what I read, morning sickness applies to all hours of the day.”

“What you read?” I asked, eyes narrowed. “You’re saying someone conveniently leftWhat to Expect When You’re Expectingon the ferry today?”

“Years ago, yes.” He shrugged out of his backpack. “I brought it. And a couple of other things.”

From his book bag he pulled out the baby book and the first book in that fantasy series he was so crazy about. “I’m not sure if you read this, but it’s pretty fun,” he pushed them across the counter toward me. “Also, I joked about the Sour Patch candy, but…I know you can’t have changed that much.”

He shot me a grin and his eyes sparkled under his eyelashes. He pushed the big bag of candy over toward me.

“What else is in that bag of tricks?” I asked.

“Tools,” he said. “Your mom never got rid of the old Chris Craft, right?”

We had a little fancy motor boat, something Dad seemed to think was too precious to use, and so we never did. Choosing instead to treat Matt and his father like our own personal drivers.

“The boat? I think it’s still there. I have no idea what kind of shape it’s in.”

“I’m going to go check it out. I want to show you how to drive it,” he said. “You can’t be out here by yourself with no way back to Calico Cove if there’s an emergency.”

With that, he pulled the backpack back on and headed out the front door. The boat house was at the back of the island fifty feet or so behind the house.

It took me a second, trying to sort my way through the feelings this little visit brought out in me. The food was nice. So were the books. He was worried about me

“He brought me dinner, dessert and some entertainment,” I said, looking at all the things. Plus, he just cut my hair and now he was fixing the boat.

He was trying, I realized.

He’d promised he would drop his weapons against me and here he was…weaponless.

Was I intrigued? Curious? Compelled?

Maybe all of those things.

25

Carrie

Igrabbed theWhat To Expectbook and followed him out the door. The lawn was wild back here. Sea grass and dandelions. Sand. So much bird shit. Too much. I ran back to the house and shoved my feet in Gran’s old rubber boots she always kept in a bin near the door, with good reason I now realized, and followed his footprints in the damp grass out toward the back dock.

We had a boat house in a small cove that protected the structure and the boat from the ocean. Except it was so rarely used, it was in total disrepair. There were pine trees and big granite rocks. The boat house was wood gone grey from the elements and the roof had moss growing on it.

“Matt?” I cried, stepping onto the soft wood of the deck.

He ducked under the low beams and met me in the doorway. The old boat was on a boat lift, out of the water. But it still looked worse for wear. Like some animals had been living in it.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I thought I’d watch you work or whatever.”

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