“You have to be patient,” Shiloh said, smoothing down his hair.
Junie came running back into the dining room. “Gus-Gus, look!” She held out the phone.
Gus reached for it. “You don’t hold it. Gus holds it! Mine!”
Shiloh shook her head. “Not yours.”
“Cary doesn’t want you to touch his phone,” Junie said bossily.
“Gus can hold the phone,” Cary said over the noise of the water. “It’s fine!”
Junie surrendered the phone with bad grace. Shiloh tried to supervise the transfer, but Gus had already grabbed it. As soon as he had it, he wailed, “Junie broke it!”
“Let me see.” Shiloh pried his hands off the phone and looked at it. “You turned it off, that’s all. He turned it off!” she called into the kitchen. “Sorry!”
“That’s okay!” Cary called back. “Just turn it back on!”
Gus was whining in the base of his throat, like an engine trying to start.
“If you cry,” Shiloh said, “you don’t get to see the baby whale.” The phone came back to life and asked for a PIN. “Just a minute, Gus.” Shiloh set him down and walked into the kitchen, holding the phone out to Cary. “Sorry. It’s locked.”
Cary’s hands were in the sink. “It’s four-two-one-five.”
Shiloh was surprised. “Oh. Okay.” She typed in the code. “Like your old phone number.”
“Yeah. Now you know my ATM code, too.” He was gesturing toward the phone. His hand was sudsy. “Do you see ‘Pictures’ on the menu? You might have to scroll back to find the whales.”
“Um...” Shiloh looked at Cary. He’d stacked the dirty dishes on thecounter and filled the sink with soapy water. His sleeves were neatly cuffed at his elbows. He still looked tired. “I’ll find them,” she said. “Thanks.”
Cary did dishes while Shiloh put the kids to bed. There were a lot of dishes.
When she came back downstairs, her mom had gone to her room, and Cary was on the couch.
Shiloh slowed down on the stairs when she saw him. She smiled.
Cary was watching. He smiled, too, and held out his hand.
Shiloh went to him and took it. She stood there for a second. “I’ve always wanted a man with dishpan hands.”
“Don’t be rude,” he said.
“I’m being serious. I hate doing dishes.”
Cary leaned forward. He fished the engagement ring out of Shiloh’s shirt and left it hanging where he could see it. “You still have my dog tag,” he said.
She nodded. “You told me to keep it safe.”
He tugged on her arm.
“Junie’s still awake,” Shiloh said softly.
“Sit down,” he said softly back.
Shiloh did.
Cary held on to her hand. He was looking at her bare fingers. “You kept my tag. And then you got it out last night?”
“This morning.”
