On the days when she had the kids, Cary came over for dinner.
“We may as well set a plate for Cary,” Junie said one night, rolling her eyes. “He practically lives here.”
“He’s my best friend,” Shiloh said, “and he leaves soon, to go back to work.”
“Back to the ocean?”
“Practically.”
Would Cary ever come back to this house? Would he ever want to spend another night in North Omaha? His mom’s house was somuch. By the time Shiloh started helping over there, Cary had already been cleaning for a week, and there was still a river of junk pouring out into the dumpster. Cary kept having to call the rental company to come empty it.
Shiloh got home from work Tuesday and spent an hour cleaning her own living room. She was standing by the window when Cary turned into her driveway. She watched him get out of his rental car and bound up the front steps. He was wearing olive-green cargo pants, a white T-shirt, and a baseball cap with the name of his ship on the front. He knocked on the door, then opened it and walked in.
“Hey,” he said, taking off the cap. “Why are you smiling?”
Shiloh shook her head. “Hi.”
“You should lock your door.”
“I knew you were coming.”
Cary walked over to Shiloh and pushed her down onto the couch, falling on top of her. He dug her necklace out of her T-shirt, and his face fell. “Did you lose your ring?”
“I’m wearing it,” she said.
He went looking for her ring finger and kissed it. “Why are you wearing it?”
“I don’t know, I just felt like being engaged.”
He kissed her hand again. “Asterisk.”
“Pfff,” she said. “There’s no asterisk.”
Cary looked up at her, one eyebrow raised. “No asterisk?”
“Shut up,” she said. “You know there’s no more asterisk.”
He smiled so wide, his cheeks turned to origami. “You don’t think I’m a bad idea anymore?”
“I never thought you were a bad idea.”
“You know what I mean.” Cary was looking in her eyes.
Shiloh worked not to look away. To be still inside the moment. “It’s more like I’m past being rational about you.”
He looked serious. “We should get married before I leave.”
“No,” she said, “stop. I want an engagement. And a wedding.”
Cary kissed the palm of her hand. Then the inside of her ring finger. “Yeah, but what if something happens to me?”
“In San Diego?”
“I don’t know, anywhere. On Thirtieth Street. I want you to get my death benefit.”
“I’m not even a bride,” Shiloh said, “and you’ve made me a widow.”
“Are the kids with their dad?”
