Page 24 of In A Faraway Land


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The blond baby pouted but then giggled as Dieter slung her over one shoulder and listened while Suze briefed him on operations during his absence. Her tiny nails scratched his neck as shewrithed in his hands like an insecure cat.

Suze said, “She’s had applesauce, crackers, roasted turkey, and cooked carrots for lunch. She could use more greens. I’m very concerned about her greens consumption.”

“We’ll work on that,” Dieter said, dropping the child down his back, catching her at his waist, and spinning her so that she was dangling under his arm.

“I’m serious, Mr. Schwarz. Shehad only four servings of greens last week. I made her an Indian ground spinach dish, which she tolerated, but she needs to expand her palate and learn to tolerate a greater diversity of greens.”

“So noted,” Dieter said, shifting Alina to his other arm while flipping her around. She shrieked with giggles. Suze-mama might read stories better than anyone else, but no one rough-housed with his babyquite as well as Daddy.

After a few more minutes’ discussion about his child’s digestive system and the benefits of green, leafy vegetables, Dieter installed Alina’s car seat in his rental car and made for the airport.

Alina clutched the pink bear all the way, talking to it in a made-up language as Dieter drove. Her birth certificate and his custody agreement for her were in the file of importantpaperwork Suze Meier had handed back to him, so he wasn’t worried about flying with her.

At the airport, his phone buzzed as he stood in line at the security checkpoint. He held Alina in one arm to read the text.

Flicka’s text read,Are you really coming back?

I’m at the airport right now,he thumbed into the phone.I’ll be in Las Vegas in two hours.

Fine. Our new address is 952 Tam O Shanter.I’ll be at work when you get home.

WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN WORK GET BACK TO THAT HOTEL OR THAT HOUSE RIGHT NOW AND DON’T LEAVE

Don’t you shouty all-caps at me, Dieter. I’ll see you when I get home.

FLICKA!!!!!!1!!!1!1!1!!!

Dieter watched the icon on his phone spin, but the message never delivered.

Damn it, she must have turned off her phone.

He stuck the phone back in his pocket and juggledAlina under one arm, making sure that she hadn’t dropped Sweetie Pinkie Bear and hoisting her diaper bag and his duffel to walk to where the Homeland Security agent was beckoning.

He handed his boarding passes and identification to the agent. The woman glanced at Alina Sophie Mirabaud, measuring her age against the date on the birth certificate and the name of her father on that certificate againsthis red-bound, Swiss passport.

They matched, of course.

She handed the boarding passes and documents back to him. “Have a safe flight, Mr. Mirabaud.”