Anna laughed. He was kissing her ear, her neck … He was laughing, too.
“And likable?” she said.
“So likable. So sympathetic.”
Anna wrapped her arms around him. “She shouldn’t have left a dream like you sitting around unattended.”
“I haven’t been unattended,” he said. “Not for a minute.”
James had an English accent for three hours one morning. They both found it unnerving.
James taught her to play double solitaire. It took her ages to imagine up a full deck of cards.
They took walks. They went fishing. They lay on their backs in her front yard, looking up at the stars.
They sat in her bed, with James leaning back against the head-board and Anna straddling his lap. He took her hair down, and Anna imagined that it had never looked so clean and shiny.
“There’s a new girl in the park,” Anna’s mother said.
Anna and James were playing cards on the porch. She was wearing her yellow sundress, and she’d kicked off her shoes. His button-down shirt was untucked, and he was holding Peaches.
“Does she need help?” Anna asked.
“She seems fine, but I thought you might want to say hello. She’s about your age and clear as a summer day. Hair down to her waist and wearing corduroy slacks. Corduroy! You can see the ribs. A main character if I’ve ever seen one.”
Her mother went on into the house.
Anna looked at James. “Do you want to go say hello?” she asked.
James shook his head. He didn’t look up from the cards.
James wanted to change his clothes. “I want jeans,” he said.
Anna really focused on him, and she could manage it for a few minutes, but the jeans kept reverting back to his green chinos.
She hadn’t seen James this frustrated since the day Renee was called in.
“Is your backstory still changing?” she asked. “You haven’t mentioned it lately.”
“Not really,” he said.
They were lying in her bed. His head was on her chest, below her throat.
“Maybe she’s refining you in ways you don’t notice,” she said.
James didn’t comment.
Anna ran her fingers through his thick red hair. “I’m sure she’s still working on you.”
The woman—the main character—was still here. James still didn’t want to meet her.
One day, the woman walked right up to the farmhouse; Anna’s parents must have shown her the way. She stood in the yard and looked up at the house. She had long brown hair. The same color as Anna’s. She was wearing glasses and a very cute cardigan.
Anna and James watched from behind her bedroom curtains.
“We should go talk to her,” Anna said.
“No,” James said. His voice was hard.
