“Is he dead?” Theodore asked her.
“No, dear.”
Hank moaned.
Margaret looked up at the others. “He’s coming around.” She placed her hand on his chest. “Hank?”
“Did I make it?” he asked in a distant voice. “Am I safe or out?”
“You were knocked out for a few minutes.”
He groaned, then opened his eyes, which were disoriented. He looked at her, at the children, then his dull gaze shifted to Muddy.
Hank blinked up at the sunlight from a face that looked as if it had sucked on bad pickles. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and swore like a sailor.
Margaret looked at the others and rolled her eyes. “He’s all right, children. I told you there was nothing to worry about. He probably fell on his head. Run along now. Muddy will go with you.”
“Wait!” Theodore paused and poked his red head over Margaret’s shoulder. “You okay, Hank?”
“Sure, kid,” he said in a raspy voice.
“Good! We’re still buddies?”
“Yeah.”
And he spun around and ran off. “Leedee! Wait for me!”
Hank scowled up at her. “What the hell happened?”
“When you shot out of the bottle, you let go of Muddy’s hand.”
He cursed again.
“Too bad you didn’t fall on your mouth.”
His eyes narrowed. “If I’d fallen on my mouth, then I couldn’t have done this.” His hand shot out, and he pulled her head down. He kissed her hard.
She shoved at his chest and jerked her head away. “Stop it!” She turned and spotted the children standing by the palm trees, gaping. She could feel her face flush bright red—at thirty-two years old.“Hey, Leedee! Muddy! Stop!” Theodore hollered.
“Did you see that? Hank and Smitty are smooching!”
“Curse your black heart, Hank Wyatt,” she said in a hiss.
“I don’t have a heart, Smitty.” He sat up. “I’d have thought a smart woman like you would have figured that out by now.”
“They’re children.”
He glanced at the children, then bellowed, “Smitty was just helping me catch my breath, kid! You go on.”
He looked back at her. “Unless you wanna get kissed again, sweetheart, you’d better move your butt.”
He slowly stood, muttering that he was getting “damn old.” He rolled his shoulders, then rubbed the back of his head. He winced, then wiped his hand across his chest and reached for a banana growing nearby. He peeled it and began to eat.
She watched him for a second. “If Charles Darwin could see you now.”
“Who?”
“Charles Darwin. The naturalist who theorized that we are descended from apes.”
