“Thanks, pal.”
Leo catches Sasha’s eye and grins. She tips her glass toward him.
This is good. This is normal. This is what they fight for.
The doorbell rings precisely at seven-thirty, just as the twins finish loading the dishwasher with the kind of efficiency that comes from knowing dessert hangs in the balance.
He opens the door and ushers Hank inside. He’s holding a bakery box.
“Cannoli,” he announces as he hands the box to Sasha.
“From Prantl’s?”
“Where else?”
The twins, trailed by the cat and dog, wander into the living room to greet honorary Uncle Hank and claim their share of the desserts.
“Can we take it upstairs?” Fiona asks. “A new episode dropped.”
Leo and Sasha exchange an amused look. Their children are addicted to a mystery series about a middle-schooler who skateboards around her town, solving crimes that stump the local authorities.
“Sure. But don’t you want to wait until Friday, and we can binge a few episodes together? It’s pizza night.” Sasha asks.
It’s the twins’ turn to exchange a look.
“What’s the look for?” Leo asks.
Finn tilts his head toward his sister as if to say, “You tell them.”
“No offense, but you guys ruin the show.”
“How do we ruin the show?”
“You ruin all shows about detectives or lawyers. Nothing’s believable, that’s not the way the law works, blah, blah.” Fiona says with mild exasperation.
All three adults laugh.
“That’s probably true,” Leo tells her. “Go enjoy your show without us.”
The kids grin and thunder up the stairs.
Once the strains of the show’s opening music float down from the tv room, the three adults leave the cat curled in the dog bed and the dog sleeping on the couch and make their way to the kitchen.
Hank grabs a few napkins from the basket near the sink. Sasha pulls a third glass down from the cabinet, and Leo picks up the open bottle of Sancerre. They work in wordless synchronicity, like old friends, a long-married couple, or a well-trained team. Which makes sense, since they’re all three.
Leo leads the way through the small backyard to the shed. He unlocks the door, and they slip inside. He pulls the chain on the bare bulb and the light blazes on.
This is where they do their Lighthouse business. There’s no reason to believe their home offices, bedroom, or living room would be unsecure. But it’s important to both of them to keep the Lighthouse apart from their family home, separate from their children.
There’s one key to the shed door, and Leo has it. Leo checks the small space for listening devices every time they use it. She pours the wine and waits until he gives the all-clear.
“It’s clean.”
Sasha hands Hank and Leo their glasses, and they perch on three overturned milk crates, Leo and Sasha’s knees touching. Hank passes around the bakery box.
Once everyone has a cannoli, Leo retrieves an envelope from a bin of pool noodles, goggles, and beachballs. He empties it onto his lap to reveal a copy of The Payback.
“This thriller novel came for me today.”
