“No.”
His face tightened.
“A gift.”
“For whom?”
“Marlowe’s collar.”
I tried to follow.
Then he laughed.
“No. Not the lamp. The brass tag on my keys. Leah had it engraved.”
COME HOME.
“Yes.”
“She gave it to me after I lost my keys twice in one month.”
I could not speak.
“I told her the message was dramatic.”
“You cried in the bathroom.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
His face shone with tears.
“I remember hiding because I cried.”
I held his jaw.
“What else?”
“A launch day. Leah and the girls came.”
“Which launch?”
“The blue cutter. We restored it.”
“That was four years ago.”
“Caleb dropped the champagne bottle before it hit the hull.”
“He denies it.”
“Owen filmed it.”
Noah laughed again.
The memories arrived from different years, different rooms, without sequence.
Marlowe as a younger dog.
