Nick

Sunrise over Manhattan’s never looked so good. We’re sitting out in the solarium, under the ferns and ivy, eating a breakfast of deviled eggs—Katie’s idea. At least the whole oatmeal phase is a thing of the past. No matter how comforting everyone says it is, no matter how much cinnamon’s mixed in, to me, oatmeal will never look like anything but hot barf. And it doesn’t taste much better.

“So? How did you get that bruise?” Katie seems more curious than scared. Still, this is one case where I’ll definitely be stretching the truth.

“Kind of a...dark forest, low-hanging branch situation.”

“Is that true?” She’s looking at Lina.

Lina stirs some sugar into her coffee. “Mm-hm. Your dad came striding out of that forest like a wild man. Head-to-toe pine needles. Just the sight of him was enough to scare that evil ex into submission.” She winks.

We’ve decided to go with a version of the truth for Katie. She’s old enough to watch the news, old enough to bust us on an outright lie. But she doesn’t have to know the gory details.

She seems to buy it, at least for now. “I’m glad you’re back,” she says. “Dad was going nuts when you were missing.”

“I missed him too.” Lina smiles at me over her coffee cup. I feel the tips of my ears going red.

I clear my throat. “So, uh, Katie... What’ve you got planned for today?”

“Painting your windows, duh.”

My... Oh, right. Totally spaced on the window displays. “Sorry. Forgot it was Saturday. You and Cindy need a ride?”

“No. Her mom’s sending a car after breakfast. We’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“Wait—you don’t have anyone going with you?”

Katie opens her mouth. I can feel another duh hovering in the air.

I head her off at the pass. “Any adult, I mean.”

“The driver’ll wait.”

That is so not my idea of adult supervision.

“Why don’t we go with you?” Lina glances at me, then back to Katie. “We could pick up Joey, make a little party of it. Don’t worry—he’s pretty artistic.”

Katie looks pensive, and I’m positive she’s about to protest, but she surprises me. “We could do, like, a fingerpainting thing, and a stick-figure Santa, so it kind of looks like kid art. And write ‘Merry Christmas’ with backward Rs.” She grins. “I wanted to show Joey to Cindy, anyway. She doesn’t believe he’s cuter than Sharon’s little brother, and he totally is.”

Joey’s clingy when we pick him up. Not just with Lina, but with me and Katie, even Cindy. He goes around collecting hugs from everyone. It’s a little heartbreaking. After what happened with his dad, losing his mom would have to be his worst nightmare. Still, he perks up like a champ when the girls start setting up their paints, and soon, all three of them are happily daubing away.

Lina wants to help out, as we’re there anyway. The two of us end up behind the counter. I show her how our registration and inventory systems work, how we decide who gets what. She seems genuinely impressed, and I can’t help but puff up a little: I designed both systems myself.

The stream of customers slows to a trickle around two. Mid-afternoon’s always a dead spot. In the window, the kids are putting the finishing touches on their masterpiece. I’ve got to admit it looks pretty good.

Lina turns to me in the quiet. “So... I have kind of a favor to ask.”

“You want me to go with you?” To the cop shop, I mean—she gave a statement last night, but they wanted to go over it again once she’d had a chance to rest.

“No, I... Mama’s meeting me there; that’ll be fine. It’s just, if it’s not too much bother... I think Joey’s a little scared. He doesn’t know why his daddy’s not around, and I think he thought the same thing was happening all over again. I don’t feel right leaving him with a babysitter so soon.”

“Oh, sure! Yeah. We’d love to have him. He have any food allergies, or anything he hates?”

“Just Brussels sprouts. Hates them, I mean. Not an allergy.”

“Think I can just about swing a sprout-free dinner.” This is an opportunity: I have a feeling Lina doesn’t want to go home, doesn’t feel safe there after what happened. If she has to come back to my place anyway, it shouldn’t be too hard to persuade her to stay. I don’t want to be away from her any more than Joe does. I fish for the right words. “Uh, I was thinking, it’ll probably be pretty late, by the time you come back for Joey. Why don’t you bring his pajamas? We can have a little sleepover.”

The relief that floods her face tells me I guessed right. “That’d be... That’d be amazing. I’m still pretty tired, and honestly, not knowing how you-know-who was getting in and out of my apartment, I’m still pretty creeped out.” She shudders. “I mean, his bail hearing hasn’t even been set yet, but part of me still thinks... Ugh.”

“You should stay for a while, then. At least till you can get bars put on the windows, new locks on the doors.” My heart’s pounding—maybe I’m pushing it a tad far. Don’t want her thinking I’m the stalker type.

“I... Well, I mean, I don’t want to put you out. And the commute would be kind of a bitch, but....” She tilts her head back, grinning. “Oh, God, yes please. I’ve been dreading...just, the whole idea of going back there.... My skin’s been crawling all day. And I—I don’t even have anywhere to sleep. He said he, uh...he—did something. In my bed.” She’s gone scarlet, red as a beet. I think I get the picture.

“Eugh. Well, I assure you, every sheet at my place is freshly laundered, and, uh, free of any scummy history.” Got to admit, I have done the thing she’s talking about, in my own bed, but not recently. Not since the sheets were changed. I look away so she can’t see me looking guilty and think...something weird.

Joey comes running up. “We’re putting all our handprints on the window! You guys wanna put yours?”

Lina and I exchange glances.

“Lead the way,” I say.

We add our prints to the end of the line, hers in bright red, mine neon green. Even with Cindy’s prints in the mix, it feels a lot like a family thing. Lina feels warm and alive, pressed against me in the cramped display. I plant an impulsive kiss on her cheek. Katie captures the moment on her phone. Think I’ll have her send me a copy of that: this is a moment I won’t want to forget.