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Katrina waved goodbye. The relief was overwhelming. She sent Dave a text.Coast is clear. Come home when you can.
He replied right away.On my way.
That evening, they ate shower leftovers on the back terrace, talking about the wine they were going to drink as soon as the kid was born.
“You can have wine,” Katrina told him. “I don’t expect you to abstain just because I have to.”
“No. It’s not fair. We’ll both do it for our son.”
“Okay, that’s a good goal.”
“I had a lot of time to reflect today,” he said.
“You did?”
They were sitting on the settee outside, torches lit down to the creek. Every so often a canoe or a boat paddled by.
“I had that moment of grief yesterday,” he said. “I hope I didn’t say anything that hurt your feelings.”
“Dave, you were fine. We were both in shock.”
“I love our baby. Our little baby boy. I’m proud of him already. I had a fantasy about him, what he might look like”
“Oh my God, I hope he doesn’t get stuck with red hair. Would that really be fair to him?”
Frowning, Dave looked at her sidelong. “What’s with the hair?”
“I was bullied for my red hair. I don’t want that for my kid.”
“You were bullied? By who? I’ll kick their ass.”
“Just random jerks when I was young.” She laughed. “It’s fine. I just don’t want my son, who might already have issues, to have to deal with hair color, too. Anyway, what was your fantasy?”
“He looked like a Chastain,” he answered proudly. “Big, burly, black curly hair. Did you see Justin before he shaved his head?”
“No. I figured he kept his hair short because he was balding.”
“Ha! Justin has a mop. See my hair? Nothing compared to my brother’s. The thing about Justin is he’s always tried to hide. The tatts might make it seem like he’s calling attention to himself, but it’s just the opposite. Oh jeez, do I want to start this conversation now?”
Katrina laughed. “Yes, you do. It’s not that late.”
“His hair is thick and curly, thicker than mine. Justin is older, so he saw more drama. It affected him.”
“Drama how?”
“Our mother was mentally ill.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Maggie never said anything to me about it.”
“Justin might not have told her. The most he’ll say, even to me, is that she was introverted in the extreme. She was an amazing horsewoman, though. Maggie’s been riding our mother’s horse, Dale.”
Staring out into the yard toward the creek, Dave remembered his mother, her gentle touch, her quiet, almost whispered voice. The only time she spoke was to her husband and sons. And when she died, his father never looked at another woman until Rose Angel came to live with her aunt, Elizabeth Bonnet, who had married Val Amotte.
Val had been engaged to Elizabeth, but when he went to Vietnam, he brought back a bride, breaking Elizabeth’s heart. Evidently, she’d forgiven him.
“Did you ever hear of Dale Evans and Roy Rogers?” Dave continued.
“No.”
