“Don’t be. I’m not fragile, I promise.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m giving your books another try. I’ve downloaded a couple of them on audio.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to, especially since my friends invited you to talk to our book club.”
He shifted, looking uncomfortable in the low light. “I’m still not sure about that. It’s awkward enough for me to be thenew guy in town. Having to talk about my books at the same time might be excruciating.”
“Don’t feel obligated. The Sea Witches will understand if you can’t make it.” She paused. “Is that why you came back? To tell me you had changed your mind about the book club?”
“No, actually. Finn lost a LEGO minifig somewhere in your yard.”
“Oh no!”
“I told him not to bring it here for the party. I warned him he would lose it if he did, but apparently he didn’t listen and slipped it into his pocket anyway. And, surprise, surprise. He lost it.”
“Poor kid. He must be so upset.”
“He’s devastated. The kids are staying at my mom’s tonight, so I told him I would stop back here and see if I could find it. If not, maybe we can come back and look tomorrow. I don’t have very high expectations of finding a little minifig in a big yard, but we have to try.”
“Of course you do.” It touched her to know he would make the effort against seemingly impossible odds.
He was a good father, she thought. For some reason, she found that even more attractive than his obvious physical appeal.
“I’ll help you,” she said. Yes, she had a million things to do, but wouldn’t rest easy unless she did all she could to reunite a boy with a favorite toy. “I’ve got a couple of good flashlights inside. I’ll grab them.”
“You really don’t have to do this.”
“I know I don’t. But I want to.”
After grabbing the lights from the utility drawer in her mudroom, she returned outside to find him looking around the tent sandbox area.
“Where do you think he was playing most?”
“Every time I saw him, he was somewhere else in the yard. They played tag, cornhole, everything. It could be anywhere.”
Her yard had never seemed so big, but they set off, both shining their flashlights on the ground. A cool breeze whispered through the trees, carrying the salty tang of the ocean and the promise of rain. Leaves rustled overhead, punctuated by the distant crash of waves against the shore. The beam of their flashlights cut through the growing darkness, dancing over the grass in erratic patterns as they searched.
The temperature had dropped noticeably, and Rosie hugged her arms around herself, chilled despite her sweater.
In the distance, clouds gathered on the horizon, their dark silhouettes barely visible against the night sky. The air felt charged with anticipation, as if the very atmosphere was holding its breath, waiting for the storm to break.
“This is a big waste of time,” Andrew said, his tone apologetic. “If we don’t find it, Finn will survive. He can save up to buy another set that has the same minifig. Maybe it will be a good object lesson. Listen to your dad.”
She laughed. “I hope it works. I spent a long time trying to get my daughter to listen to me, to no avail.”
“Finn is only seven. I’d like to think I still have a little cred with him at this age.”
“What about the swing set?” she asked, after they had been looking for a while. “I believe I saw him playing there a few times. Maybe it fell out of his pocket while he was swinging.”
Andrew gave her an appreciative look that made her glow. “You might be onto something there.”
The two of them walked over to the swings and she aimed her flashlight beam at the area around the poles of the swing set that Gary had built for Emma when she was about eight.
At that age, she had probably been too old for a swing set and would outgrow it soon anyway but Gary hadn’t cared.
Someday we can share this with our grandkids, he had said.
