She laughs. She likes dogs; that’s good. Another checkmark on my list.
"Go home," she says. Still smiling.
I get in the truck. Boots moves over to let me in and immediately puts her nose on my arm, warm and solid, and I sit there for a moment in the dark with the hotel porch light still visible in the mirror.
Hallie has already gone inside.
five
Hallie
Mapledefinitelysaw.
I know she saw because when I come down for breakfast she looks up from the front desk with this expression — not smug exactly, more like satisfied, the way someone looks when a thing they've been quietly hoping for has gone ahead and happened — and says good morning about half a beat too warmly.
"Good morning," I say.
"Sleep well?"
"Fine, thank you."
She nods. Goes back to whatever she's writing. I get two steps toward the door and she says, without looking up, "I'm happy to take Theo this afternoon if you want some time. He could help me repot the window boxes."
He's been staring at those window boxes since we arrived.
"That's very kind," I say carefully. "I don't have anything planned."
She looks up. Just looks at me and slides me a number written on a piece of paper. “He left this for you after fixing the shelf.”
Ronan.
"Okay," I say. "Thank you."
I text Ronan from the room. I have his number from when Maple put us in touch about the window, which I'm choosing not to think too hard about.
Maple is taking Theo this afternoon. If you wanted to do something.
I stare at it. It's a terrible text. I send it anyway.
His reply comes back in four minutes.
Pick you up at noon. Bring a jacket.
He shows up with Boots in the passenger seat and a pack in the truck bed. “Hop in.”
I take the seat, which means Boots goes in the back, which she does with the energy of someone deeply wronged. She puts her chin on my shoulder before he's even started the engine and lets out a dramatic sigh.
He drives us out of town and up a forestry road I haven't seen and then we drop down through a treeline to a flat stretch along a river. Wide and shallow, running clear over rocks, grass along the bank, the mountains on three sides, and the sun warm and the air smelling like pine and cold water.
“Wow,” I breathe.
“Right?” He spreads a blanket. Unpacks sandwiches, fruit, and a thermos. The kind of food someone puts together when they've thought about it but don't want to make it into a thing.
Boots wades into the river and stares at the fish.
"Does she catch them?" I ask.
"Never. Extremely confident about it though."
