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    "Well, yeah, but he kept all this stuff secret. Doesn't that make you mad?"
    "No, of course not." I spoke automatically, coddling my kid with lies. The
    truth was harder, because I did hurt. The glass through which I'd looked back
    at my first marriage was losing its rosy tint. But this was my daughter, not
    my best friend, and there are some things you don't share with your kid.
    Her eyebrows lifted a good two inches. "You're really not mad?" she asked, in
    the same voice she'd use if I told her I'd taken a job as a professional chef.
    "Daddy has some secret so huge that he's leaving clues all over the state, and
    you're not even a teensy bit annoyed?"
    Smart girl, my daughter.
    "Your daddy loved secrets," I said, thinking of the way he and I had gotten
    unofficially married well before our official ceremony. And no one but the two
    of us had known. "You two even shared a few secrets from me, right?"
    Her cheeks colored. "Well, yeah. Sure. But that's not the same. Those aren't
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    as much like a secret because two people know. It's like a thing you share.
    But the key and the notes and all that. I dunno. It's just different."
    Yeah. Definitely a smart girl.
    "It really doesn't make you mad?" she asked, pressing her point.
    "I'm surprised," I said. "And I hate the idea that there may have been
    something I could have helped him with before he died. But this doesn't change
    anything about the way I feel about your dad. I loved him and he loved me. But
    everyone has secrets, Allie. Everyone."
    I knew that better than anyone. I'd just never expected Eric to keep his
    secrets from me.
    "I guess." She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, apparently in deep
    thought about my brilliant words of wisdom. (I was actually pretty proud of
    myself. As parenting moments went, I thought I was handling myself pretty
    well.) "Sort of like you and Stuart, right?"
    "How so?"
    "Well, I mean, does he know about the note from Daddy?"
    I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. "No," I said, trying for casual.
    "He doesn't."
    "Right," she said. "Secrets." She started picking at her nail polish, peeling
    it off in strips. "So how old were you and Daddy when you met?"
    I almost commented on the change of subject, but since I was more than happy
    to shift conversational gears, I didn't. "Thirteen."
    "Did you know right away? That he was the one, I mean?"
    "Well, he was a much more sophisticated fourteen, and so I figured there was
    no way he'd be interested in a kid like me."
    "But he was."
    "Not at first, actually." I smiled, remembering how Eric had protested when
    he'd been assigned to work with me on my very crappy knife-throwing skills.
    "But he came around, right. I mean, by the time you were fourteen, you knew
    you wanted to be with him always, right?"
    "Yeah," I said. "He came around."
    She shrugged, and when her cheeks flushed pink, I understood.
    "Your father and I were unique. Our whole situation, in Rome, in the
    orphanage. We bonded more than we might have, you know?" I stopped there,
    because Allie really didn't know any more details. "We were lucky to have
    found each other so early, but we missed out on a lot, too. Most people, they
    go out.
    They date. They have fun and see a lot of different men before they finally
    meet the guy who sweeps them off their feet. It doesn't have to be the guy you
    fall for when you're fourteen."
    She slunk down in her seat and looked out the window. "God, Mom. I know. I'm
    just, you know, making conversation."
    I let that one sit for a while as we maneuvered down the 101 Freeway, through
    Reseda, Encino, Sherman Oaks. I concentrated on the signs until I found the
    exit for Pasadena. Once I'd merged onto the
    134 and picked a lane, I relaxed a little.
    "So tell me about him," I said.
    "Who?" Allie asked, looking a bit like a bunny confronted by the big, bad
    wolf.
    "Santa Claus," I said. "Who do you think?"
    "Oh, Troy?" she said, just a little too casually. "We're just friends."
    "Uh-huh."
    "I mean, I like him and all. And, well, I think he likes me. But& "
    "But your pain-in-the-butt mom won't let you date?"
    "I didn't say that."
    "No, and I love you for it." I considered only for a moment before diving in.
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    "How about you invite him over for dinner Friday. Give Stuart and me the
    chance to meet him."
    "Really? And you won't, like, embarrass me? I mean, you're not going to pull
    out the baby pictures or anything, are you?"
    "Pictures? No way. I figure the videotapes are much more effective."
    "Ha-ha. My mom is such a comedian."
    "I'm not saying you can do a car date or even a double date but once we meet
    him, you can probably go out as a group."
    "I do that already."
    "A group date
    . And when do you go out?"
    She lifted a shoulder. "I dunno. Surf club, I guess. He's always at the
    meetings, and I go watch him practice all the time."
    "All the time?" I repeated.
    "Well, it's not like it's just me. I mean, the other guys on the team are
    there, too. And sometimes Mindy comes. And JoAnn and Bethany almost always
    come, too."
    "Wonderful," I said. "A whole gaggle of teenagers in bathing suits on the
    beach without adult supervision."
    "Honestly, Mom. It's not like we're living in the olden days."
    "I know. I'm just so pathetically old fashioned."
    She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, we do have a chaperone. Cool's been to almost
    every practice."
    That caught my attention. "He has?"
    "Sure. I mean, he's already brilliant on a board, but he's got to practice.
    And he's like the coach. He's shown the guys all sorts of cool tricks. Troy's
    tons better now."
    "Mmm." The idea of my daughter in such close proximity to Cool gave me the
    willies, and it wasn't just his bizarre name that had me worried. Anyone who
    hung out at Coastal Mists who'd searched the room of a
    resident-turned-demon was suspicious in my book. I had nothing more concrete
    to base my fears on. Not yet, anyway. But where my kids are concerned, a
    single bad vibe was one too many.
    I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, trying to decide what to do. I
    wanted to forbid her to go anywhere near Cool, but I did that, I'd have to
    fabricate a reason. And nothing rational sprang to mind.
    if
    "Is Cool the only adult at these things?"
    "Mr. Long's always there, too."
    "Right," I said, immediately relieved. "He's the faculty adviser, isn't he? So
    of course he'd be there.
    Okay. That's good."
    Allie was turned in her seat, looking at me as if I'd lost my mind.
    "What?"
    "We're not babies, Mom. And we're not rolling around in the sand making out
    like porn stars, either."
    "Thanks," I said. "I feel a lot better now."
    "I just mean that you raised me right, okay? So chill out."
    I couldn't help my grin. "Right. Chilling."
    "Jeez," she muttered, but loud enough for me to hear.
    She was right, too. I'd done a good job with this kid. My only regret, in
    fact, was that I hadn't started teaching her how to kick a little butt from
    the time she was age three. But still, better late than never. And at least
    David Long was around to keep an eye on things.
    Considering that only a day before I'd thought him a prime candidate for
    demonic infestation, my sudden relief that he was there to watch over my kid
    seemed a little abrupt. But the reaction was honest. For better or for worse,
    and despite all my lingering questions, at the end of the day, I did trust
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    David Long.
    And until I could figure out a way to keep Allie away from Cool, I thanked God
    that David was there to be a buffer between them.
    "Here!" Allie yelled. "Turn here!" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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