“I’m coming home for Christmas,” he said. “Maybe you and Mikey and I... you know, we could get together?”
Shiloh’s eyes flooded with tears. “I would love that.”
Cary was telling her what they could have together. It was much less than Shiloh wanted—but still so much more than she’d expected a few hours ago.
He gave her one last squeeze, and then he stood up. He held out a hand to Shiloh, and she took it. She stood up with him.
Cary put his hands on his hips. “I’m glad I got to meet your kids.”
“Me too. I’m glad we... ended up here, I guess.”
“Me too.” Cary leaned over and kissed her cheek.
“Let me get my keys,” Shiloh said, her voice breaking.
“I’ll just walk.”
“It’s too late, no.”
“Shiloh, I’m a grown man and a Naval officer.”
“Tell that to the kid with a gun who wants your cell phone.”
Cary let her drive him home. She gave him one of her business cards before he got out. “Call me if you ever need a pair of hands in Omaha.”
He nodded and put the card in his pocket. “Good night, Shiloh.”
“Good night, Cary.”
Twenty-Seven
Mikey was as good as his threats. A few months after the wedding, Shiloh was invited to his house—Janine’s house?—for dinner.
Shiloh had a hard time finding a parking spot on their block.
Mike and Janine lived in a nicer part of North Omaha than Shiloh, a quiet neighborhood near the river. They had a big old house set back from the street and surrounded by trees. There was music playing outdoors, even though it was still cold. March.
Shiloh walked up the front steps. She was carrying the wine Cary had left at her house.
A couple was standing on the porch, quietly arguing. Shiloh could see the shadows of other people inside. She almost turned around—this was supposed to be a small dinner.
The front door was open. Shiloh opened the storm door and edged inside, head first. There were people sitting on the staircase, just inside the foyer. And people in the living room, eating cheese and bread and drinking wine. They all looked very comfortable and very interesting. Omaha interesting. Like, people who worked at artisan jewelry stores downtown or taught college poetry.
A couple of Mikey’s paintings dominated the room—black and white, abstract, with photorealistic faces hidden in strange places. They were huge, propped up against the walls and nearly as tall as the ceiling. These must not be for sale—how would he ever get them out?
Shiloh was still thinking of turning around when a very pregnant blond woman walked into the room with a tray of more cheese. “Shiloh?” the woman said.
Shiloh looked at her for a second. “Janine?”
“That’s me. Oh my god—Mike is going to be so happy that you came!”
Shiloh nodded. “It’s great to finally meet you.” Had they met in high school? Hopefully they hadn’t met in high school. “I saw you from afar at the reception...”
Janine looked less glossy than she had at the wedding, but still very pretty. She had long blond hair and big blue eyes. Shiny pink skin. She was wearing jeans and a clingy black T-shirt with a blue blazer over it—like, Friday-casual pregnancy chic. It was working for her.
“Yeah, sorry...” Janine said. “I was so preoccupied that night. Then again”—she smiled—“so were you.”
Shiloh laughed uncomfortably.
