Page 153 of One Big Little Secret

“Cuttlefish! Where?” Arlo’s eyes bounce around excitedly.

“Up here, little man. Let me help you get a better look.” I lift him up and settle him on my shoulders. “Can you see them now?”

“Yeah! That one’s like a rainbow.” His little finger points.

“And you see the way it shines in the light?”

“Yeah!” He grins.

“They do that to communicate. Almost like sign language, but they use colors instead.”

I slow walk him along the glass so he can take it all in.

Salem trails behind us, happy to let me take the lead, almost as impressed with the show as her son.

Shit, my son.

My son is in my house.

My throat tightens ferociously and I swallow hard.

“More cuttlefish!” Arlo whispers excitedly, moving his finger around and counting them.

Colt used to do that a few years ago, even as an older kid. The animals are used to it, I think.

A bright-green fish floats closer to investigate, its mouth opening and closing, but Arlo’s eyes never waver from the tentacled creatures.

“Why don’t you tell us what you remember about cuttlefish?” Salem asks him.

“They change color! Um… and they have beaks like an octopus. They shoot ink too.”

Not half-bad for a five-year-old. I wonder about his memory, what else he can recall.

“I have an octopus, too,” I tell him.

“What? No way!”

“Way,” I whisper. “Let’s see if he’s out and not hiding.”

We walk along the tank and I point out different fish along the way.

Sure enough, I find the octopus tucked behind a rock with only one tiny curl of leg visible, but the seahorses are swimming around near us, curious as usual.

Arlo looks astonished.

“You know what’s interesting about seahorses?” I ask. “The males give birth. See there?” I point to a sac on the front of one seahorse. “That one’s full of babies.”

The boy’s eyes are almost as round as the sac. “But I thought only girls can have babies.”

“That’s what makes seahorses special.”

“I like the seahorse method. Way more fair,” Salem adds, flashing me a mischievous grin.

I shake my head, biting back a grin. I can’t imagine how this would be working out right now if our roles were switched.

“What about the other fish?” Arlo asks.

“Some lay eggs and some have live young, but the females work the hardest.” I give Salem a quick, repentant glance.

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