Part 31 (1/2)

”You were driving,” he repeated.

”It was Ron's car-my brother-in-law's.”

She and Izzy had made a complete circuit of the block and were back on the main road, where a bench sat at the deserted bus stop. She pointed to it. ”Mind if we just sit for a few minutes?” she asked. ”I want to give Neesha a chance to come out of hiding. You know, maybe if she's nearby and she sees us...?”

”That's a smart idea,” Izzy said as he sat down beside her. ”So how come the two of you were driving? As if I don't know?”

”Ron was high. Can we not talk about Katrina?”

”Well, yeah,” he said. ”I just...I know what it's like to lose a friend and...”

”Frank O'Leary.” She named the SEAL who'd died in the same terrorist attack that had left those grim-looking scars on Izzy's chest.

He looked surprised.

”You told me about him,” she reminded him.

”I know,” he said. ”I just didn't expect you to remember his name.”

”Why wouldn't I?” she asked.

Izzy was looking at her with an expression on his face that she absolutely couldn't read. But then he kind of laughed. ”Because we talked about him, I don't know, once once, a long time ago?”

Eden glanced behind her, hoping that Neesha would appear. But she didn't. Lord, she was tired, and she didn't want to sit here, talking about things that made her want to burst into tears and throw herself into Izzy's arms, and say things he didn't want to hear. So she brought them safely back to s.e.x-where they were both in agreement. ”I remember all of our conversations. Including one you'd probably prefer I forget.”

Izzy definitely laughed at that, and she knew he he knew that she was talking about a conversation they'd had on their wedding night, after she'd gone down on him for the first time, where she'd referred to his man-parts as ”Mr. Big.” knew that she was talking about a conversation they'd had on their wedding night, after she'd gone down on him for the first time, where she'd referred to his man-parts as ”Mr. Big.”

No, Izzy had said, pulling sharply back to look at her. Nuh-uh. No Nuh-uh. No way way are you are you naming naming my d.i.c.k my d.i.c.k.

Too late, she'd teased him.

No it's not.

You can call him whatever you want, she'd said, and I'll- and I'll- Great, he'd interrupted her. I'm going to get a little boring here and call I'm going to get a little boring here and call it it ”my p.e.n.i.s.” Not Mr. p.e.n.i.s, not mister anything. No ”my p.e.n.i.s.” Not Mr. p.e.n.i.s, not mister anything. No him, him, no, thank you. With the understanding that I do appreciate the ego-stroking behind the whole no, thank you. With the understanding that I do appreciate the ego-stroking behind the whole big big thing. I mean, you're the mastermind behind thing. I mean, you're the mastermind behind Pinkie, Pinkie, so it could've gone in an entirely different direction. But here's the deal, Mrs. Zanella, I have an absolute no-name policy for body parts so it could've gone in an entirely different direction. But here's the deal, Mrs. Zanella, I have an absolute no-name policy for body parts.

As far as nicknames went, that Mrs. Zanella Mrs. Zanella had made them both freeze with the eye-opening reality of what they'd just done at the little Happy Ending Wedding Chapel. They were legally married. For richer or poorer, for better or worse. had made them both freeze with the eye-opening reality of what they'd just done at the little Happy Ending Wedding Chapel. They were legally married. For richer or poorer, for better or worse.

Ten long months later, even after spending all that time apart, Eden was still Mrs. Zanella-at least in the eyes of the law.

And despite the fact that she'd all but promised never to utter those words again, he was still Mr. Big.

”I know what you're thinking, smart-a.s.s,” Izzy said. ”So stop it.”

Eden had to laugh, even as she leaned slightly forward to check if that really was a shadow that moved across the street, or just her tired eyes playing tricks on her. Come on, Neesha...”Okay, Amazing Kreskin. If you're so good at reading my mind, what am I thinking now?”

”You're still thinking about Katrina,” he said, ”because you're still hoping Neesha will show up, and thinking about her makes you think about everything Ben lost because the levees broke, even though you hate thinking about it. Eed, I have to confess that I've been thinking about it, too-for a long time. Ever since I knew that you were there and lived through it. I always wondered what you'd you'd lost, and now I know a little bit more. I know you lost your home.” lost, and now I know a little bit more. I know you lost your home.”

Eden just shook her head. She'd lost so much more than that. She'd lost everything. She'd lost herself, for too many long, dark years.

”I know you don't want to talk about it right now,” Izzy said. ”But if you ever do...?”

She made herself nod, okay, but she wouldn't say anything. Not now, not ever. Because Izzy really didn't want to know. He thought he did, but if he ever found out...?

He wouldn't believe her. Her own mother mother hadn't. hadn't.

And there it was. It wasn't so much that he he didn't want to know, but that didn't want to know, but that Eden Eden didn't want to face his disbelief. didn't want to face his disbelief.

Their silence stretched on as she focused on a pa.s.sing car, watching its taillights moving down the street, hoping that when it disappeared, Neesha would come out from wherever she'd been hiding.

But the car turned a distant corner and nothing moved in the shadowy stillness of the night.

And Izzy let Katrina go. He went back to their earlier conversation, pre-Mr. Big.

”You know, I'm kind of like you,” he said. ”A nomad. We moved a lot when I was a kid, and because I was the youngest, I rarely got my own room. They just kind of stuck me on the couch, wherever we lived. I was a post-vasectomy surprise-I ever tell you that?”

Eden shook her head.

”Obviously, the procedure didn't work.” He smiled. ”My brothers were all much older than me, and my parents were pretty much done with raising kids when I came along. I'm not complaining-it was an interesting way to grow up. Always sitting with the adults, never really treated like a child. At least not by my parents. My brothers could be pretty brutal, because I was always tagging along. School was optional-depending on whether or not my brother Martin was home. He was my Obi-Wan Ken.o.bi, if you know what I mean.”

”Help me, Obi-Wan Ken.o.bi,” she said. she said. ”You're my only hope.” ”You're my only hope.”

”Exactly,” Izzy said.

”How many brothers did you have?”

”Four,” he told her. ”Martin was the oldest-he was fifteen when I was born; then there's Nick, who's a year younger than M., then the twins, the Double D-Dougie and Don. They were two years younger than Nick, twelve years older than me. I was like the weirdest only-child ever, because they all left home and went to college or whatever, and then came back and lived with us at one point or another, sometimes with their wives or girlfriends and/or children in tow. But by then I was, I don't know, nine? Ten? And suddenly I was kicked out of my room again, and there were infants in the house. Which got old really fast for my parents, but not for me. It was a good excuse to not go to school. I'm babysitting. I'm babysitting.”

”So you...just didn't go?” Eden asked.

”Pretty much,” Izzy said. ”But it was okay, because I was reading and doing math on a college level when I was seven, so school was really just a place to handle the boredom by getting into ma.s.sive amounts of trouble. It was probably better for everyone when I didn't show up. Although I prolly could've used the socialization skills-a.s.suming I was capable of learning them. Which I'm not sure I was. Anyway, my point, when I started telling you all this, is because we moved so often-I'm talking at least once if not twice every year. My parents' pa.s.sion was to buy old houses-really old antiques-and fix them up and sell them, so it was chaos on all levels, living in a construction zone, always going-or not going-to a new school...So, it's hard for me to think of any one place as home. I mean, right now I'm still living in that same apartment, but when I'm there? It doesn't feel like anything special. It's like it's just a giant box that holds my s.h.i.+t. It's where I sleep when I'm in San Diego.”

”I liked your apartment,” she said.

”But it's not home,” Izzy told her. ”I know all these people who are so wrapped up in having things, you know? And they buy a house and they get what they think is perfect furniture and...Jenk-you know Mark Jenkins? He and his wife, Lindsey, are having a baby, and he's all about moving out of their condo into a house with a yard. The kid's not going to be hitting a swing set for another few years-she's only a few months pregnant...” He shook his head. ”But the truth is, home's an illusion. We try to create this place that's supposed to make us feel happy or safe, when in truth it's the people who are around us that matter. Where we are has nothing to do with it.”

”I'm safe right now,” Eden said. ”When I'm with you, I feel very safe. Can I say that? Am I allowed?”

Izzy smiled at her then as he took her hand, interlacing their fingers. ”Yeah,” he said. ”I'll accept that as a fact. As a Navy SEAL, I tend to make people feel either very secure or extremely insecure.”

”I'm in the first subset,” she told him.

”Glad to hear it,” he said. ”For the record? I'm personally feeling pretty happy right at this moment, so...Home, sweet home on a bus-stop bench, you know?”

And sitting there with Izzy, in the heat of the Las Vegas night, Eden did did know. But she didn't dare tell him so. know. But she didn't dare tell him so.

Jenn still had a reddish mark on her face where Dan had hit her, and the sight of it made him sick.

”You weren't kidding when you said this was going to be hard for you,” she said, after Eden and Izzy went out to look for Neesha.