* * *
Bailey’s home occupied the nether region north of town. That was what her parents called it, back when they welcomed him as easily and warmly as they might a close relative. Her father was a physio and chiropractor working out of the local hospital’s rehab unit. Bailey’s mom was a Pilates and yoga instructor long before it became all the rage. Dillon considered them the sort of people who defined the best California had to offer. Easygoing, self-contained, stoic, unflappable, honest. They cared without gushing. They gave, expecting nothing in return. Being accepted into their home was a princely reward.
They were a tight couple, calm in their ways and deeply in love. What they thought of Bailey’s choice in a mate, they never said. As best man Dillon had been seated at the head table, and though both dabbed at tears during the festivities, neither had a harsh word or warning, not then nor in all the preceding months after Bailey declared Griff was the one. Her lifetime partner.
The nether region was their name for homes dotting the northern headlands. There was no beach, just cliffs and a few scraggly cattle who were gradually replaced by ever grander houses. Theirs was a sprawling ranch, cluttered and comfortable. Neither parent held much interest in housekeeping. Their rear door was always open to Dillon. Right up to the last few weeks of his life in Miramar, sweating over his applications to grow university-style wings. They were the ones who shared the desperate hope and fear. The only ones.
They occupied a new home now, a smaller version of the place Bailey claimed as her own, set against the far fence and separated by a new stand of fast-growing firs. Their neighborhood still had power, an illuminated peninsula jutting from a rain-darkened land. Dillon stopped by there first, and saw in the calm expressions a mirror into the good times. The ones too easily dismissed by a man fighting so hard to get away.
When he bade them goodnight and took the walk back up toward the house, a dark-haired sprite stood by the rear door. “You’re Dillon and I’m Elena.”
Which meant she was named after Griff’s mother. “Hi, Elena. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“That’s because you don’t know me.” She spun on her heel and danced through the door. “Just wait. Mom says I grow on people like bed lice.”
“I said no such thing!”
“You thought it. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re wrong!”
“Ha.” She danced back to Dillon. “This afternoon I heard Mom tell her best friend you were the lover she never had.”
“Elena Elizabeth Long, I am going wring your neck!”
Dillon followed her through the glassed-in garden room and into the kitchen, where a crimson-faced Bailey said, “Now is the perfect time for you to take my car and drive off into the sunset.”
“Too late,” Elena said. “Sunset’s over.”
“Go watch television. Read a book. Do math. Enjoy your final days on earth.” Bailey’s hands stayed busy washing vegetables. “I actually don’t know what to say.”
Dillon thought it best to change the subject. “Your mom said to tell you she has fresh sourdough coming out of the oven.”
“Elena, go get us a loaf.”
“Hokey-pokey.”
“Better still, ask them if you can move in until you turn thirty.”
“She’ll laugh in my face.”
When the child departed, Dillon said, “She’s so much like her father it makes my eyes burn.”
“I know, right?”
Dillon watched the rain spatter against the glass door.
“Go ahead and ask.” When Dillon remained silent, Bailey said it for him. “How could Griff walk away from raising this amazing child? He never said. But I think it’s two things.”
“He’s the veritable Peter Pan,” Dillon said, watching the empty yard. “He’d rather die than grow up.”
“That’s true, but it’s only part of the whole story.” Bailey set an iron skillet on the stove, added butter and olive oil. “I think Elena scares him. He can only take her in measured doses.”
“Scared of what?”
Bailey started to speak, then shook her head and simply replied, “You’ll see.”
Dinner was a Spanish omelet with home fries, sourdough with honey for dessert. Their living-dining room was dominated by a Christmas tree minus lights. There were baubles, cute sections of ribbons tied in bows, a teddy bear with wings at its peak.
