Part 130 (2/2)

back to the beach.”

”No.” She continued to smile, but the dimple faded away from the

corner of her mouth. ”I never learned to surl I didn't know if you'd

still be living at home.”

”Actually, I'm not. I lost a bet with my old man, so he gets free

gardening service for a few weeks.” He didn't have a clue what to say to

her. She looked so beautiful, so fragile somehow, standing on the

freshly shorn gra.s.s in her expensive Italian pumps, her pale hair

stirring slightly in the light breeze. ”How've you been?” he managed at

last.

”Fine. And you?”

”All right. I've seen your picture now and again. Once you were in one

of those ski places.”

”Saint Moritz.”

”I guess.” Her eyes were the same, he thought. Big, blue, and haunted.

Looking into them made his stomach dance. ”Are youvisiting around

here?”

”No. Well, yes. Actually-”

”Michael.” He turned at his mother's voice. She stood in the doorway,

neat as a pin. ”Aren't you going to ask your friend in for a cold

drink?”

”Sure. Got a few minutes?” he asked Emma.

”Yes. I was hoping to speak to your father.”

He felt his hopes deflate like a used party balloon. Where had he

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