She had begun asking for things verbally again when she felt safe enough.
Not often.
Halfway through dinner she looked toward the bread basket.
“More bread.”
Evelyn handed it immediately.
“Here.”
“Thank you.”
Evelyn’s hand stopped for half a second.
Then she put the basket down.
“You’re welcome.”
Daniel looked toward the creek because if he watched Evelyn’s face much longer, he might lose control of his own.
After Lily went to bed, Daniel and Evelyn remained on the front porch.
Crickets.
Dark hills.
Walt’s porch light across the road.
The wine bottle half empty between them.
Evelyn spoke first.
“I didn’t come here for Arcturus.”
Daniel looked toward her.
“I know.”
“I mean originally, yes.”
“The file.”
“Yes.”
“But not now.”
“No.”
She placed her glass on the railing.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
“You run a technology company.”
“That isn’t this.”
“No.”
“I’m usually better when something has structure.”
“Most people are.”
“I like plans.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“This doesn’t have one.”
Daniel looked toward the dark yard.
“Maybe that’s okay.”
Evelyn was quiet.
“I was afraid to come today.”
“Why?”
“Because I realized somewhere on the drive that if you looked disappointed to see me, I would care.”
Daniel turned toward her.
“That sounds inconvenient.”
“Extremely.”
He smiled.
“I wasn’t disappointed.”
“I noticed.”
“Good.”
The porch boards creaked beneath the rocking chairs.
After a while Evelyn said, “I’ve been here eleven times.”
“Twelve.”