Sixty-Three
“Are we going to talk about what I saw last night?” Tom was waiting for Shiloh when she sat down at her desk.
“No,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow above the frame of his glasses. “Because it looked like—”
Tom must have seen something alarming on her face. He stopped.
“Ohh-kay,” he said. “I guess we’re really not going to talk about it.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll just trust that you would tell me if you were, you know, suddenly engaged to a handsome sailor.”
“That does seem like the sort of thing I would tell you...”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
Cary sent her a text. “I can come for dinner, if that still works?”
“yeah, come over—i get home at 5:30”
Shiloh hadn’t planned anything for dinner. She had fresh tomatoes and bacon. She stopped for bread on the way to daycare.
“Guess who’s coming to dinner?” she asked the kids.
“Who?” Junie asked, already overcome with surprise.
“My friend Cary.”
“Cary! He’s home from the ocean?”
“Cary?” Gus repeated.
“Yeah,” Shiloh said.
“Mommy,” Gus said. “You friend is named Cary?”
“Yep. And he’s coming to dinner.”
“Well,” Junie said, folding her hands in her lap. “I can’t wait to see him.”
Cary was late. Shiloh fed the kids and her mom—who had come home from the bar in a terrible mood.
“ What is taking Cary so long?” Junie wondered. She hadn’t ever mentioned the almost-kiss on the porch again. Even when Shiloh showed
her Cary’s photos and postcards.
“Mommy?” Gus said. “You friend is coming?”
“Coming,” Cary texted. “Sorry.”
A half hour later, Shiloh heard his voice outside. It sounded like he was arguing with someone. She peeked out the window.
Cary was standing by his car, on the phone—shouting.
“Stay inside,” she told Junie. Shiloh went out through the porch.
“Jackie—” Cary was holding his forehead. “Jackie, you know that’s not true... That’s not true!”
He was walking in a circle. He saw Shiloh.
She waved.
Cary nodded at her, then looked away—then looked back at her, distracted and troubled.
Shiloh waved again, like, It’s okay, keep talking .
“What other options?” Cary said into the phone, more calmly than before. “Tell me the other options.”
He glanced back at Shiloh like he wanted to say something to her. But then he was shouting into the phone—“No— No— Jackie . This is reality! This is all we can do!”
A car was driving past Shiloh’s house. It stopped. The woman in the passenger seat rolled down her window and yelled, “You
planned this!”
It took a second for Shiloh to clock the woman as Cary’s older sister Jackie. (His biological mom.)
Cary was still holding the phone. He looked shocked. “Did you follow me?”
“No, but I knew where to find you! I’m not letting you do this, Cary!”
Cary was walking toward the car. “It’s not me ! You heard the social worker—Mom can’t get Medicaid until she sells the house. That’s it! That’s reality!”
“You don’t even care!”
“I do care.”
Jackie leaned farther out the window, rising out of her seat. She was about fifty, and she looked a lot like Lois. There was
a man driving the car, also leaning toward the open window.
“You’ve got money!” Jackie shouted. “You’ve got a job! Angel has nothing!”
“This isn’t about Angel,” Cary said.
“It is about Angel!” the man yelled.
Cary clenched his fist. “Don, I swear to god...”
“You’ve always been so fucking selfish,” Jackie said.
Cary laughed horribly. “ I’ve always been selfish? I’ve always been selfish. That’s rich.” He glanced around. He glanced back at Shiloh for a second. His gaze hung on her. He looked
gutted.
Shiloh should go in. It was probably humiliating for him, to have her watch this. She walked up the steps onto the enclosed
porch but didn’t go inside the house. She still wanted to monitor the situation.
“We either sell the house or Mom has to leave rehab.” Cary kept raising his voice, then reining it in, then raising it. Shiloh
had never seen him like this.
“She can come home now!” Jackie shouted. “We’ll take care of her.”
“You won’t take care of her!” Cary shouted back.
“No, you won’t take care of her!”
The front door flew open, and Shiloh’s mom steamed past her, muttering, “That’s it, that is it .”
She got down the steps and pointed up the street. “You need to move the fuck along, Jackie!”
“Oh, fuck off, Gloria. This is family business.”
“This is my property—and I will call the cops.”
“And tell them what?”
“I’ll figure that out before they get here.” She turned to Cary. “You move along, too. Get inside—we don’t fight in the yard!”
“Sorry, Gloria.” Cary headed up the steps like he’d been given an order. He walked right past Shiloh, into the house. She
followed him.
“Cary!” Junie exclaimed as soon as she saw him. “Are you okay? Was someone yelling at you?”
Cary looked bad. His face was bright red.
“Let’s give Cary a minute,” Shiloh said.
Her mom came in the door and slammed it. “I have kicked those shitheads out of my bar—and I will kick them out of my yard.
I have no time for that woman.”
Shiloh took Cary’s hand. “Come on, come with me.” She pulled him upstairs. He followed her.
As soon as they were in the hallway, she touched his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Shiloh,” Cary said, abject and eyes half-closed, “you’re not wearing your ring.”
Shiloh was taken aback. “ Cary, ” she breathed out. “Baby...”
She pulled the ring out of her shirt. She’d hung it on a silver chain with his old dog tag. “I just didn’t want to talk to
my mom and Junie about it yet.”
Cary wrapped his hand around the ring and metal tag. He pushed Shiloh against the wall and pressed his forehead into hers.
She brought a hand up to the back of his head and cradled him there. His eyes were closed. He was breathing hard.
Shiloh stroked his hair. “You’re kind of a wreck, aren’t you?”
Cary laughed through his nose, one wretched exhale. Shiloh thought he might be crying—that this might be what it looked like
when Cary cried, like misery and heavy breathing.
She kept rubbing the back of his head. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
After a while, he moved his forehead down to her shoulder. His fist was still clutched around the ring. “I’m really helping my case here, aren’t I?”
“What case?”
“The ‘ Shiloh, legally bind yourself to me ’ effort.”
She rubbed the back of his neck. “You just seem a little more... frantic than usual.”
Cary lifted his head to look at her. He was still flushed. “I have seventeen days of leave. I need to get my mom’s house on
the market before I go. And I need to convince you to spend the rest of your life with me. Those are my two objectives. They’re
both of highest priority.”
Shiloh laughed. It was gentle. She nudged his hair away from his face, even though it was too short to matter. “You don’t
have to deal with me right now, I’ll give you an extension. I’m not going anywhere.”
“ No, ” Cary said, frustrated. “ Shiloh. No more extensions. No more waiting. I want the rest of my life to be about building something with you. I want to start that
work.”
“Okay,” she said, kissing his cheek. “It’s started. We’ve started. Look at me.” He did. “We’re engaged.”
“Asterisk,” Cary said, still wretched.
“The footnote now reads, ‘ This is an active, developing scenario. Both parties are at the table working toward a mutually beneficial agreement. ’”
Cary frowned. “That’s too long for a footnote, and it doesn’t sound celebratory.”
“Let go of my ring,” she said.
He did.
Shiloh smiled at him and tucked the necklace into her shirt. “Come hang out with my kids, and let me feed you dinner.”
Cary looked in her eyes and nodded.
Shiloh led him downstairs. She’d been planning on not touching him in front of Junie and Gus. But the landscape of her worries
had shifted. She held his hand.
Junie jumped up when she saw him. “Cary, are you feeling better now ?”
“I am. Sorry, Juniper. It’s great to see you.”
“It’s great to see you. I thought you’d never leave that boat!”
Shiloh’s mom was on the couch. Cary looked penitent. “Gloria, I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry.” She was holding a beer. “I shouldn’t have stuck my nose in your business.”
“I won’t fight in your yard again. I promise you that was out of character.”
Her mom rolled her eyes. “Your sister would bring out the worst in Mother Teresa.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
Shiloh pulled him toward the kitchen. “The kids have already eaten.”
“But we waited for you to have dessert!” Junie said.
“Mommy,” Gus said, “Gus can have dessert? Gus can have ice cream?” He still hadn’t abandoned the third person.
“Just a minute, Gus. Do you like BLTs?” she asked Cary. “Do you eat bacon?”
“I eat everything,” he said.
“Good.”
She cooked the rest of the bacon while Cary watched. She hadn’t wanted it to get cold before he got here.
Shiloh had thought tonight would be about the kids. About reminding Cary that the kids were real people—and a real problem
with his plan.
But now that he was here, Shiloh just wanted to make things easy for him. She toasted the bread and spread it with mayonnaise.
“That’s so much mayonnaise,” Cary said.
“Have you ever made a BLT?”
“No.”
“No commentary, then.”
She made them each a big sandwich and piled Cary’s plate with potato chips and fresh cherries.
He watched her. Shiloh was pretty sure he wanted to kiss her. It made her blush.
They ate at the table, and Junie sat with them, asking Cary questions about the Navy. Gus kept bringing toys in from the living
room to show Cary. “You name is Cary?” he kept asking.
“He’s changed so much,” Cary said to Shiloh.
“Yeah,” she agreed. Gus had gotten taller, heavier. He was talking more. He was very nearly potty-trained—100 percent potty-trained
at daycare.
“He seems a lot more upbeat,” Cary said.
Gus was back with another toy car to show them. Shiloh smiled. “He’s having a good night, aren’t you, Gus?”
“Gus can have ice cream?”
“Yes,” Shiloh said definitively. She had cake cones and strawberry ice cream in the kitchen. She got up and made cones for
everyone but Cary, who said he was full.
Cary seemed to be coming back to life. “Oh,” he said, “Juniper—I saw some humpback whales when I was on my ship. I took photos
for you.”
“ Hump back whales?” Junie was agog.
Cary got his phone out of his pocket—it was a nice one, a Razr. He opened it and pressed some buttons. Then he handed it to
Junie.
She gasped. “Where is its humpback?”
“That’s just the name,” Cary said. “Use the arrows to look at the photos. See if you can find the baby whale.”
Cary stood up and gathered the dishes.
“Gus wants to see the baby,” Gus said. He was in Shiloh’s lap.
“Just a minute.” Shiloh heard Cary running water and leaned back, so she could see into the kitchen. “Hey—what are you doing?”
“Dishes.”
“I’ll do them later.”
“No, she won’t!” Shiloh’s mom was still sitting in the living room.
“I don’t mind,” Cary said.
“I see it!” Junie shrieked. She ran into the kitchen with the phone. “Is this the baby?”
“Yep.”
Gus huffed. “Want to see the baby!”
“You have to be patient,” Shiloh said, smoothing down his hair.
Junie came running back into the dining room. “Gus-Gus, look!” She held out the phone.
Gus reached for it. “You don’t hold it. Gus holds it! Mine!”
Shiloh shook her head. “Not yours.”
“Cary doesn’t want you to touch his phone,” Junie said bossily.
“Gus can hold the phone,” Cary said over the noise of the water. “It’s fine!”
Junie surrendered the phone with bad grace. Shiloh tried to supervise the transfer, but Gus had already grabbed it. As soon
as he had it, he wailed, “Junie broke it!”
“Let me see.” Shiloh pried his hands off the phone and looked at it. “You turned it off, that’s all. He turned it off!” she
called into the kitchen. “Sorry!”
“That’s okay!” Cary called back. “Just turn it back on!”
Gus was whining in the base of his throat, like an engine trying to start.
“If you cry,” Shiloh said, “you don’t get to see the baby whale.” The phone came back to life and asked for a PIN. “Just a
minute, Gus.” Shiloh set him down and walked into the kitchen, holding the phone out to Cary. “Sorry. It’s locked.”
Cary’s hands were in the sink. “It’s four-two-one-five.”
Shiloh was surprised. “Oh. Okay.” She typed in the code. “Like your old phone number.”
“Yeah. Now you know my ATM code, too.” He was gesturing toward the phone. His hand was sudsy. “Do you see ‘Pictures’ on the
menu? You might have to scroll back to find the whales.”
“Um...” Shiloh looked at Cary. He’d stacked the dirty dishes on the counter and filled the sink with soapy water. His sleeves were neatly cuffed at his elbows. He still looked tired. “I’ll find them,” she said. “Thanks.”
Cary did dishes while Shiloh put the kids to bed. There were a lot of dishes.
When she came back downstairs, her mom had gone to her room, and Cary was on the couch.
Shiloh slowed down on the stairs when she saw him. She smiled.
Cary was watching. He smiled, too, and held out his hand.
Shiloh went to him and took it. She stood there for a second. “I’ve always wanted a man with dishpan hands.”
“Don’t be rude,” he said.
“I’m being serious. I hate doing dishes.”
Cary leaned forward. He fished the engagement ring out of Shiloh’s shirt and left it hanging where he could see it. “You still
have my dog tag,” he said.
She nodded. “You told me to keep it safe.”
He tugged on her arm.
“Junie’s still awake,” Shiloh said softly.
“Sit down,” he said softly back.
Shiloh did.
Cary held on to her hand. He was looking at her bare fingers. “You kept my tag. And then you got it out last night?”
“This morning.”
“And you put it on a chain?”
“It was already on a chain,” she said.