Page 63 of Promise Me Sunshine

“You know,” he says, and there’s a note in his voice that has me studying him. He’s glancing at me and then away. “IfIhad a list, this would be on it.” He nods. “The ocean. Or mountains. A view, I guess. Something beautiful and far away.”

“Also cardio,” I add. “That would be on your list.”

“AndThe Godfather Part II.” He’s finally putting those smile lines to good use.

We watch the water and the foot traffic on the boardwalk for a long time. Those pesky clouds come back and a wind whips up and most everybody starts heading to the train, to their warm houses with warm beds and cups of after-dinner decaf.

I turn to Miles, to suggest we do exactly that, but he’s already looking at me. “Lenny. Thank you for calling me,” he says in a low voice. His hand slides across the picnic table and lands on mine. We’re only touching in four square inches but I’m awash in his warm heat. “For calling when you needed me.”

Part Two

Still After

Chapter Sixteen

“What’s wrong?” I ask Ainsley. It’s been a week since the ferry, my meltdown, shrimp and beer. I’ve trod approximately twelve excruciating miles in the park under Miles’s watchful eye. It’s a battle of wills. He’s committed to improving my cardiovascular health. I’m committed to “running” the mile in more than forty minutes, just to spite him.

But I’m not concerned with any of that right now. Right now it’s only Ainsley.

Miles looks up sharply and studies her. She’s hunched at the kitchen table, snack and juice untouched. Normally she draws loosely, all colors and big shapes. Today is just a dull pencil and she’s pressing hard little scribbles into the page.

“Nothing,” she says.

“Ains—” I start.

The tip of her pencil breaks. “Ugh!”

Suddenly, she’s got bright tears in her eyes. She snaps the pencil clean in two, rearing back and launching one half of it at the wall. It leaves a graphite mark right underneath the big calendar showing all of Reese’s work obligations.

“Hey,” Miles says, looking back and forth between the wall and Ainsley.

She stands up so fast the kitchen chair falls over backward with a bang. The noise shocks her, makes her jump, and she bursts into tears. She turns and hurries out of the room.

“What was that all about?” Miles asks me, his face slack with shock.

“I have no idea.” I’m staring at the door she just disappeared through.

“She was so happy when she got home from school.”

“Yeah. She was.” I go over and look at her drawing again. It’s a mass of angry scribbles. “Okay, let’s retrace our steps. When she and I got home from school, she was cheery. And she ran into the kitchen before me. You were already in here, right?”

He nods. “Yeah. I was reading at the table.”

“What did she do next?”

He thinks. “She said hi to me and then grabbed the snack you left out and sat down. No, wait. She grabbed the snack and then went and stood over there for a minute. I was distracted with what I was reading…Do you think she was mad that I wasn’t paying attention to her?”

I shake my head. “No, that’s not like her. She stood over there?” I point toward the big calendar that now has the ugly black pencil mark right below it. Like she was aiming for it.

He confirms and I grab my phone. I follow the link to Ainsley’s school calendar that updates every month and then stand up and walk over to Reese’s calendar.

Sure enough, there is one big conflict. Ainsley’s school has their annual dance and talent show. And it sits smack-dab in the middle of a newly blocked off “out of town” workweek for Reese. “Oh, boy.”

“What?”

I show Miles the scheduling conflict. “I bet she’s really excited about the show and the dance and wanted Reese to come.”

“Dang. She must be disappointed.” He scratches at the back of his head. “Should we go talk to her?”

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