11
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A pale ghost of the nearly full moon rode the
twilight as Jack stood outside Gia’s front step and knocked. He
wondered if there’d be a moon or even a sun where he was going. He
swore that if he somehow managed to extricate himself from this
mess he’d never again take this sort of everyday beauty for
granted.
Gia opened the door. Her eyes widened when
she saw him.
“Where have you been?”
“Here and there.”
“But you were gone so long! You said you’d
only be an hour!”
“I know. Things got complicated.”
“I was getting worried.”
“Can I spend the night?”
Gia burst into tears.
Jack said, “Is that a no?”
She grabbed him and pulled him into the foyer
where they clinched.
She sobbed against his chest. “I can’t lose
you!”
“Well, I’m not gone yet. The lady in the
size-forty dress hasn’t started her song yet.”
Jack didn’t know if his half-formed plan had
any chance of working, but if it did, she’d never sing.
At least not Jack’s tune.