I can’t stop the memories flooding back as I take the stairs down to my study to prepare for a war against Salinger. He’s just like our father; he’s not going to back down. Neither am I. No one takes what’s mine. I built that company from spite and rage and poured what was left of my soul into it.
I’ll watch Jenna from afar, turn into another of her crazed stalker exes. Except that I never asked her to marry me.
There’s the acrid scent of unwashed hemp shirt and sage when I walk through the living room to grab an energy drink for the long night. The steel prison door is unlocked and half open.
“McCarthy.” Zephyr rises elegantly like a yogi out of the lotus position he’s sitting in on the slate floor, beads in his graying red beard tinkling as he smiles sanguinely at me. “Blessed be.” He presses his hands together and gives me a low bow.
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
“I come bearing gifts.”
On my kitchen counter is a terra-cotta pot with little bubbles of something seeping out slowly under the lid, a bag of flour that looks like it has rocks in it, a jar filled with honeycomb, and a pile of enormous zucchini stacked like logs.
“Whatthe—”
“We’ve had a bumper crop. You should divest from your defense company and invest in low-impact farming.”
“Hard pass.”
He holds out his hands to me, palms up.
“Thanks for the gifts.”
I turn to the door then back. He’s still standing there, eyes half closed, hands outstretched to me.
“Did Jenna—never mind. I mean, did Jenna ask you to come? Does she know about this?”
“She welcomed the zucchini to their new home.”
“I just… Can you tell her that I might be, I guess, I’m sorry? If you see her. She’s with you, right?” I ask anxiously. “She’s not sleeping outside somewhere? She’s okay? I mean, despite me, she’s okay? Can you tell her I didn’t mean to—well, I meant to, but I didn’t mean to hurt her. I miss her, I guess, okay? Can you just tell her?”
“Come.” His hands, brown from the sun, dirt worked into the creases of his palms, beckon to me.
“She’s here?” My heart jumps up in my throat. I hesitate then let him take both my hands. Anything for her.
The universe has a rhythm, and it always finds a way to bring kindred spirits back together.
He takes both of my hands, leading me to the terrace, walking backward, his grubby, bare feet all over my carpet. If he weren’t Jenna’s current stepfather and she didn’t seem like she half cared about him or didn’t hate him at least, I’d throw him out just for tracking dirt all over my carpet.
I’m going to have to deep clean. This is revolting.
It’s warm out on the terrace. The sun breaks through the last of the cloud cover. I can smell the salty, briny sea air blowing in, chasing the last of the rain east, back to the destroyed compound, to the rest of my brothers.
Maybe I should go to the East Coast and visit. Maybe I could take Jenna.
“You know, you never did meet my sisters…” I look out over the terrace, searching for her. “Jenna? I thought…” I turn back to the old hippie. “I thought she was out here. What—”
“Look.” He gestures.
Near the plant bed I’d had installed for Truman, there’s a brown-and-white dog sniffing a patch of creeping thyme. He raises his head, sniffing the warm breeze, and turns toward me. The dog is old, the brown-and-white fur speckled with gray, his muzzle silver, his eyes cloudy.
Zephyr grabs my arm as I sink down.
He’s a weird-looking dog, goofy looking, his legs too short, his body too big. He shuffles over, tail whapping slowly, with heavy, thudding lopes, until his big, dopey head is right in my outstretched hands, cautiously sniffing.
“Buddy?” My voice hitches like I’m a kid again and we’re going to go out hunting lizards in the desert.
“This isn’t…” I look up at Zephyr, who’s beaming down at me with a peaceful smile.
