Kevin nodded as he chewed and swallowed, as if this were a game the two of them had played before. "The latrines are the worst. But after that comes our tent. This kid William cut the cheese like a hundred times a night. Mr. Quentzer thinks he might be lactose intolerant."

" 'Cut the cheese'?" Deirdre said. "I've never heard you use that expression before."

"All the kids say it." Kevin loaded his fork up again and stuffed it in his mouth. Deirdre raised her eyebrows at Sean, amusement playing across her face. Aunt Vivvy's expression was decidedly less amused.

"Must have been hard to sleep," said Sean, "with all that cheese happening."

"Mr. Quentzer gave us little branches of pine needles, and we kept them by our pillows so we could sniff them when William cut one."

"Might we turn the conversation to another topic?" said Aunt Vivvy. "I'm developing indigestion."

"Yeah, okay," said Deirdre. "When do you guys want tickets for Joseph? There are shows every night starting Tuesday, and the last show is the Sunday matinee. I get four for free."

She didn't want them to come opening night-she said she'd be too nervous. They decided they would go Wednesday. After dinner, Aunt Vivvy went up to her room, and Kevin said he had a lot of TV watching to catch up on. As Sean cleared the table, Deirdre said, "So I notice you haven't been around as much lately. Like, at night."

Sean handed her a stack of plates. "I've been at a friend's house."

"A friend?" she teased, sliding the dishes into the dishwasher.

He smiled despite himself. "Yeah, a very good friend."

"A beneficial one?"

He shot her a look, and she put her hands up in mock surrender. "Hey," she said. "Just asking. It doesn't matter to me-do what you like."

"I will."

"You always do."

That night when the house was quiet, he called Rebecca and gave her the update on Kevin and invited her to come with them to see Deirdre's play. She told him she had hired movers to transfer her parents' furniture to the garage and her elderly client's pieces into the house. Eventually they were talking about almost nothing at all, but the sound of her calm, melodious voice kept him on the phone like a drug addict inhaling all that he could.

CHAPTER 43.

Walking through the woods up Jansen Hill with Sean and George the next morning, Kevin said, "I was thinking about something at camp."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Are you going to tell me, or should I guess?"

Kevin didn't answer for a moment. The three of them were walk-ing single file up the path, Sean bringing up the rear, so he couldn't see the boy's face.

"Um," said Kevin. He picked up his pace and Sean had to hurry to stay close enough to hear him. "I know you like living in other countries and stuff . . . but I wish you would stay."

And there it was.

Sean was caught off guard. It seemed like every time the subject had come up before-with Deirdre or Aunt Vivvy, or even Cormac or Rebecca-no one had actually said the words. They had insinuated or implied. Rebecca had blatantly told him she knew he wouldn't stay. Sean had been able to build a sort of seawall against the lapping waves of their disappointment. This was different.

"Kevin . . ."

"Don't you like it here?"

No! he wanted to say. I'm a goddamned change maker at my friend's coffee shop. Aunt Vivvy's going crazy, and she wasn't even that nice when she was lucid. I don't want an e-mail account or a cell phone or any of that extraneous crap. I want to go back to my life!

"I really like being with you," Sean said. And when the words came out, and he heard himself say them, he knew they were true.

"I like being with you, too. A lot."

Sean sighed. "There are a lot of things up in the air right now."

"Yeah, that flux thing."

"I'm trying to work it out so everyone gets what they need. Can you just trust me on that one? That I'm figuring it out?"

"Okay," said Kevin. "I trust you."

The credit card bill came in, and it was much higher than Sean had anticipated. He checked it twice. He had made a lot of purchases. And now that he was doing Aunt Vivvy's bills, he knew that they did not have much of a cushion to play with. She was getting Social Security, which basically covered the house bills, but not much else, and her inheritance had dwindled to the vicinity of an emergency fund. He called Cormac. "Hey, load me up with shifts," he said. "Baby needs a new pair of shoes."

"Bad news, buddy," said Cormac. "All the staff vacations are over, and they're all asking me for extra hours now, too. I can give you some, but I gotta keep my permanent people happy."

"No problem. Let me know if somebody calls in sick or something."

Permanent people. Damn.

Life in the States was ridiculously expensive-and that was with him serving as unpaid housekeeper, cook, errand runner, plumbing fixer . . . he was basically the wife in this situation. And admittedly he'd been avoiding thinking about Deirdre leaving. If he didn't find some sort of caretaker for Kevin and Aunt Vivvy, he'd be trapped in Belham forever.

His aunt had never wandered or left a stove burner on, and she seemed to be fine in the house with only George there. When her memory dimmed she just got quiet and drifted in her own world. It was like a mental brownout. If he could get someone to spend a few hours there in the afternoon, do some housework, make dinner, and help Kevin with homework, that would probably be enough. For now. It depended on how fast Vivvy deteriorated. He could be in touch with Kevin by e-mail to check on how things were going on that score.

There was money left in his trust fund to pay for a caretaker-the question was how long it would last. Sean decided to limit his foreign work search to positions that paid a little more-that is to say, more than virtually nothing.

The other concern was getting Kevin used to the new school. Sean thought of his slacker pothead brother scrupulously preparing Kevin for kindergarten. Kindergarten-where the biggest stressor was whether there'd be enough blocks to go around. Middle school was practically combat by comparison. Sean would have to stay for at least the first few weeks until Kevin made the transition and the school had him on their institutional radar.

A thought flickered in the back of his mind, a memory of junk mail that might, on second thought, have some value . . . He dug through Kevin's school packet and found the flier for the temporary school nurse position. It was short-term-only until October. He could handle doling out ice packs and sanitary pads for that long.

Staying for another six weeks had an added benefit that he didn't like to ponder too deeply. Rebecca. More time with her. He knew the longer they cocooned themselves in the fantasyland of Let's Just Enjoy This, the harder it would be when he left. Already he was in deeper than he'd ever been with anyone. There were women he'd slept with off and on for months at a time . . . but none that made him feel like some pining idiot from a pop song the minute she left for work.

Anxious to solve at least the immediate problem of income, Sean dialed the middle school. He told the secretary that he was interested in the sub nurse position.

"For yourself?"

"Yes."

"You're a registered nurse? Because we can't take an EMT certificate. You have to be an RN."

Sean rolled his eyes. Was a male nurse still such a surprise? "Yes, I'm an RN. I'll submit a copy of my license with the application."

"Okay, then," she said tightly. He heard papers rustling. "The posting says you also need five years of experience, preferably in pediatrics."

"I've been a nurse for twenty years, much of it with children. Can you tell me what the position pays?"

"Fourteen dollars an hour."

Fourteen? That was a 50 percent raise from the Confectionary! Come to think of it, he'd never made that much in his life. "I'd definitely like to apply."

Later that afternoon, a package arrived.

"Kev!" Sean yelled. "Come here a minute!"

They struggled to open the box. "Run and get a knife from the kitchen."

Kevin pulled a jackknife out of his shorts pocket and flipped it open.

"Hey, where'd you get that?"

"Bodie gave it to me. I forgot to tell you-I got my Totin' Chip at camp, so I can use knives and axes now. He has about four of them and he says this one's kinda dull anyway." He slid the knife blade under the box flap to sever the tape. "See, you always cut away from yourself so you don't get hurt," he explained.

"Good to know." Sean made sure Kevin didn't see him smile.

When the contents of the package were revealed, Kevin said, "What is this stuff?"

"Lie down and I'll show you." Kevin flopped onto the living room rug, and Sean gave him a throw pillow to put behind his head. "Close your eyes." Sean gently spread the fleece blanket over the boy. It had rows of enclosed tubelike pockets filled with weights.

Kevin's eyes popped open in surprise, and he ran his hands over the fleecy hills of extra weight. "It's really heavy."

"Too heavy? Do you feel trapped?"

"No . . . it feels good. You try it!"

Sean lay down and Kevin adjusted the blanket over him. To Sean it felt like he was being pinned, like his lungs couldn't quite fully expand.

"Not my thing," he told Kevin. "But I'm glad you like it. It's yours. Now you don't have to sleep like the Princess and the Pea-with you as the pea!"

When Sean took out the other item, Kevin grimaced. "I don't wear socks."

"Yeah, I noticed. Just try these. They don't have a seam across the toe, so they might not bug you as much."

Kevin tried one on and quickly pulled it off again. "Not my thing," he said. He looked up, checking Sean's face for disappointment.

"A long time ago there was this famous baseball player called Shoeless Joe. I'm going to start calling you Sockless Kev."

"No, you aren't," Kevin said knowingly.

"Yeah." Sean chuckled. "Probably not."

Sean set the kitchen table with china for the second time that evening. The first time the delicate dishes had looked incongruous against the old wooden table. Pulling open cabinets and drawers, he found what he was looking for-a nice lace tablecloth.

Kevin came in red-faced, his hair sticking to his forehead in shiny black clumps. He poured water into a bowl for George, who lapped it up eagerly, and then got himself a glass. "Who's coming?" he asked. "The president?"

"No, smart-aleck," said Sean. "A friend of mine."

"The baker guy? Tell him to bring some pie!"

"No, someone else. Her name is Rebecca. She used to go to high school with Cormac and me. She's nice, you'll like her."

"Ohhh," said Kevin with a teasing grin, "a girl."

"Yeah, try not to be too jealous."

"Gross!" said Kevin, but there was a little flush behind his freckles.

When Rebecca arrived, she was wearing a pale pink cotton sundress printed with trails of tiny flowers. Sean had never seen her in anything so feminine, and he thought his heart might stop. It was all he could do to keep himself from going after her right there in the foyer.

He restrained himself to kissing her cheek and murmuring, "You look amazing." When he turned and introduced her to Kevin, he saw a strange, slightly worried look on the boy's face as he held out his left hand to shake, then looked down and quickly switched to the right. "Sorry," he muttered. "That's how we do it in Boy Scouts."

"How was camp?" she asked him. "I heard it was disgusting but fun."

Kevin looked at Sean.

"I told her about it," Sean confessed. "We're friends. We talk."

They went into the kitchen, and while Sean cut up Granny Smith apples for the salad, Rebecca, in her gentle way, got Kevin to talk in more detail about camp. He told them about watching the boys pile into the war canoe, an enormous Indian-looking thing big enough for ten boys and two of the leaders. They paddled out to the middle of the lake for a splash fight with another troop, and Kevin admitted that part of him would've liked to go. "But I don't really do stuff like that," he explained to her. "I'm different from a lot of kids."

"Yeah," she said. "I'm kind of different, too."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I'm pretty shy," she said. "Also, I have this face thing, and kids used to tease me about it, which made me feel even more shy."

"How'd you get it?"

"I was born with it. The doctors said I must have been lying funny in my mom's tummy, and I'd grow out of it, but I never did. In fact it got worse. Nowadays they put helmets on babies who have it to make their heads grow right. But I guess they didn't think of that back then."