The kid swore.

"I thought we were friends."

Todd swiped his hand under his nose and gasped a jagged breath. "Leave me alone."

"I don't think you want me to."

Todd didn't answer.

"Todd, tell me what's wrong."

"Just stuff."

Morgan sat down. "Your dad?" He anticipated blows.

But Todd nodded, sniffed his running nose. "One time he took me to a carnival. I was excited, but he brought a bottle. He puked on the second ride and hit me for watching. It made my nose bleed, and I got scared and ran away through the booths. He just kept bellowing, and I knew if he found me he'd beat me up." Todd swiped his face again.

Morgan tried not to picture the scene, but it was all too vivid.

"I didn't know where to go. The carnival was closing, and all these guys that looked ... bad teeth and stuff, were watching me. I thought I could just hide in a ride or something. But when I tried to get on the carousel, Dad caught me. He slapped me so hard I wet my pants."

Morgan's chest constricted. Was that what Todd saw in him? It chilled him down the spine. He reached out and gripped Todd's forearm. "You're out of that now. Stan won't hurt you, and neither would I."

Todd leaned into the wall. "Stan doesn't drink."

Morgan squeezed his arm and let go. "You can go back tomorrow."

"I don't want to." Todd looked up sideways.

Morgan spread his hands. "I don't know what else to tell you. You either trust me or you don't."

Todd rested his head against the wall. "The stupid thing is, I loved him."

"It wouldn't hurt if you didn't."

Todd put his elbow across his knees and buried his face. Morgan moved closer to hold his shoulder while he cried. And Todd's dad had probably loved him, until he'd messed himself up so much he couldn't. Morgan fought a wave of disgust. "You don't even see it." How much didn't he see? At that moment, Todd was a mirror, and Morgan couldn't help but look.

CHAPTER.

34.

The next day was perfect to be on the water. They'd lubed on sunscreen, filled a cooler with watermelon, chips, and turkey sandwiches, and hit the waves. Now they floated, engine silent, Morgan's arms tucked behind his head, ankles crossed. Looking side-ways at the boy sprawled on the cushioned seat, he felt a fresh stirring of affection.

He'd been surprised Todd wanted to go out alone without the neighbor kids. But he was glad. Last night seemed to have opened a door, and as the honesty poured out, he hoped it would transfer to Stan as well.

"Do you fish?"

Morgan shook his head. "Nah. But I like seafood."

"Why don't you want to catch it?"

"Most of the fishing done around here is sport fishing. I can't see battling some creature to the limits of both our strengths just to say I won."

"You could stuff it and stick it on your wall." Todd picked a scratch on his leg. "My dad had lots of stuff on his walls."

"He hunted?" Every mention of his dad was worth drawing out.

Todd nodded. "He took me once before Mom left, stuck me in a tree. I watched him shoot a deer."

That was the first mention of his mother. "What did you think of that?"

Todd shrugged. "He was excited cuz it had four points. But it was all bloody when he cut it up."

"Did you eat it?"

"No. He just took the head and had it stuffed."

Morgan took the chance and pushed a little. "When did your mom leave?"

"Five years ago. I was eight." He pulled up his knees in what Morgan now recognized as a defensive posture.

"Why'd she go?"

He shrugged.

"Your parents had problems?"

Todd slanted him a glance. "Duh."

Morgan smiled. "Do you talk to her?"

Todd shook his head. "She never even called."

There had to be something intrinsically wrong with that picture. What mother could walk away from her own kid? Then his throat constricted. Jill had. She'd birthed their child, then handed her over to strangers. Here you go-special delivery. He stopped that train of thought and nudged Todd with his toes. "You want to drive?"

"What?"

"Take her closer in and bang some waves?"

Todd looked out at the water. "I dunno."

"You can do it." Morgan stood and led him to the helm. He started the boat and showed Todd how to bring it around the direction he wanted to go. Todd would enjoy this, even if he didn't think so at the moment. He just needed encouragement.

He had guessed right. By the time they headed home, he was a tired but happy kid. Now if they could avoid his evening transformation to Spanish Inquisitor, it would be the best day yet.

Jill buttoned the short-sleeved pink cardigan to the circular neck. With the cream-colored loose capris, it was casual but stylish in an understated way her parents would approve-in spite of the sassy haircut that they would not. She had asked to come over for a bit and chat, but Mom had suggested dinner, of course, taking any overture as a chance for overkill. Jill only hoped they wouldn't have lost their appetites by the time she was finished telling them about Kelsey-and worse, Morgan's involvement.

She drove to her parents' modest home, neatly manicured lawn, a few shrubs and flowering pots, a sprinkler in one corner sending a thin oscillating fountain that made her think of the Bellagio. Her skin warmed. How on earth would she get through this? Dad must have a new car. She passed the navy Chevrolet sedan in the driveway. He'd even changed allegiance from Dodge.

She knocked on the door and waited for admittance. Mom arrived all smiles, then eyed her hair. "Oh, Jill. You cut your hair off."

"Only some of it."

"It's so ..."

Fashionable. Daring. Attractive. Fun.

"Short." Mom pushed the door open. "But it'll grow."

She had just had Crystal trim it up. But Mom's hair was neatly swept back into a stylish twist, as it had been from Jill's earliest memories. "So Dad finally bought a Chevy?"

Mom looked perplexed. "What, dear?"

"The new car." Jill motioned behind her toward the driveway.

"Oh. That's not ours."

Prickles crawled up her back.

"Come on through. I'll introduce you to Glen."

Jill stopped and hissed, "Mom, you didn't."

"Well, when you said you wanted to come, I thought you meant ..."

Fury surged. "No, you didn't. I said I wanted to talk."

"You said chat. A little get-together that I thought might be just the chance to get to know Glen a little." Could Mom really believe the fantasy world she lived in, where daughters never disappointed?

Jill moistened her lips. Oh, how she wanted to tell them everything right in front of Glen. But of course she wouldn't. She followed her mother to the back patio, where Dad sat with a pleasant-faced man, a little thin and needing some time in the sun, but nice looking nonetheless.

"Glen, this is our daughter, Jill. She's just had her hair cut, so it's different from the pictures."

They'd shown him her pictures? But, then, they were sprinkled around the house. "Hi, Glen." Jill held out her hand.

He stood and took it. "It's very nice to meet you, Jill. Your parents have talked a lot about you, the times they've had me over lately."

"I'm sorry about your wife. It must be very hard to lose someone you love." As she had lost Kelsey and now feared for her life.

"Thank you. It is. But it's been two years, and time does ease the sting."

So you're ready and willing to move on.

"Have a seat, Jill. I'm just finishing in the kitchen," her mom said.

"Oh, I'll help you, then." She didn't leave time for argument but led the way back inside.

Her mother's face sharpened. "I know you didn't expect this."

"Didn't expect it? I said no." Could the fact that she'd refused even enter her mother's mind?

"Oh, Jill, just give him a chance." Her mother's face was so piteously hopeful.

"Don't worry, Mother. I can be polite."

Mom went to the oven and took out a roast. "I'll let your father carve this. The potatoes are in the warming oven. They can be put on the table."

Jill did as she was told, then spent the evening under Dad's searching gaze making small talk, mostly about her work with the kids at school, which Mom elevated to near Mother Teresa's efforts in India.

Glen smiled. "It does take a special person to work with challenged kids. I'm challenged enough with my own." Then he told a couple humorous stories about his eleven-and thirteen-year-old boys.

He did seem like a nice man and hardly looked forty-three. After dinner and a reasonable time over coffee, which Jill did not drink-she would be sleepless enough-he walked her out to her car. "I really enjoyed meeting you, Jill."

She knew what was coming.

"Would it be all right if I called you sometime?"

She took her keys from her purse. "I don't suppose Mom told you I'm not really dating right now."

"Me either. But ..."

"And I have some things that I really need to focus on."

"Oh. Okay. Well, maybe I'll see you again sometime. Do you go to church?"

"The big one on the corner of Elm."

He nodded. "I've heard the pastor a few times."

"We have three now."

He smiled. "Guess I'm more of a small-church guy."

Where everyone knew everything. She returned his smile. "Well, it was nice meeting you, too, Glen." She pulled open her door and slid in. "Good night."

No one could say she hadn't tried. Mom had probably panicked when Jill mentioned she wanted to talk. Maybe specters of that first horrible revelation had filled her mind, and Glen was the only defense she had. Maybe it was kinder after all to keep them in the dark. The tension she'd held in check all evening washed away, leaving a sense of failure. But she could not be blamed. Pat and Deborah and Gina had meant well with their encouragement, but they did not know how it was. Nothing penetrated Mom's code of silence.

Kelsey lay as though run over by a tank, her skin yellow and blistering. Every breath was work, her lungs laboring under the fluid pressing her down. Dr. McGraine's face was blurred as he spoke to her and her parents. "The GVHD has escalated to severe. Her bilirubin and alkaline phosphatase indicate liver damage, possibly treatable by increased levels of Prednisone and cyclosporine, but that is in turn toxic to the kidneys, which are already failing."