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“What are we looking at?” I ask.
“Nothing,” Donovan says. There’s frustration in his tone. “His scans are clear.”
“Good news for Otto.”
“Maybe. It still doesn’t explain the seizures.”
I lace my fingers in my lap. “So what’s your diagnosis?”
He lapses into thought for a minute. “He could be faking the seizures.”
I feel my mouth turn downward. “Seriously? That’s a little cynical, even for you.”
Donovan shrugs. “Single mom. Busy mom. Kid wants attention. It’s a great way to get it. He might not even be aware he’s doing it.”
I press my lips together. “I guess.”
“I’m going to run a couple more tests. See if we can induce it with stress.”
“Sure.” I nudge my chair back and forth on the wheels. “I convinced Kenzi and Otto to come to the Christmas ferry ride. You should join us. You can…observe Otto. See how he handles it.”
Donovan glances at me. “I’m not going to babysit Otto so you can fuck.”
My mouth drops open. “That’s not what I said!”
He rolls his eyes.
47
Kenzi
The ferry ride can’t come soon enough.
We leave the medical center with no answers but promises of results to come.
Otto and Pearl and I spend the day together: we shop around some of the open stores on Main Street. So many of these stores haven’t changed—the ice cream shop has the same sign of a narwhal with an ice cream cone for a horn. We pass Hanson’s General Store, where Donovan and I once shoplifted candy from, on a dare, and then both felt so bad about it we left two dollars in the tip jar. We go into a tourist shop with postcards and T-shirts, and beach equipment in the back, and Otto helps me pick out a couple of ornaments for the tree.
I’m trying to be present, but my thoughts keep drifting to last night. It feels like some kind of fever dream. Every now and then, I remember the deliciously full feeling of Jason inside of me or the low rumble of Donovan’s growls, and suddenly I’m squeezing my thighs, trying to ignore the throb.
I also pick up tickets for the Christmas Eve ferry ride.
December twenty-forth is bitterly cold. It’s going to be freezing on the ferry, so I pull on a dark dress and thick stockings that I roll up my thighs.
While I’m changing, my eyes land on my backpack. Burtie is in there. It’s been days since my last mind-blowing release around Jason’s cock and Donovan’s fingers. I’m wound up, and I’m tempted to relieve some of this pressure, but—
“Mum! I broke a button on my jumper!”
A mother’s job is never done.
Miraculously, the three of us somehow get dressed, get in the car, and make it to the ferry before it departs.
I’ll admit, Jason wasn’t wrong: it actually is pretty magical.
The cold wind that whips off the ocean feels like beestings on my cheeks, but it’s worth it to watch the ferry lit up like this. The siding is draped in strings of pine and holly with large red bows wrapped on every pole. Christmas lights sparkle around the sides and around the enclosed deck. There are two levels to the ferry, and there’s a stage jutting out from the second level where a band is set up but not yet playing. They have holiday music going over the speakers in the meantime. There’s a small cart up front, too, and it looks like they’re handing out hot drinks.
We hand over our tickets at the gate and then climb the ramp to board. Everyone is dressed in thick, puffy winter coats with scarves wrapped around red faces.
The first thing I do is look for Leonard King. If he’s here, I want to avoid him at all costs, even if that means abandoning ship. Luckily, I don’t see him anywhere—maybe this is too “pedestrian” for him. Whatever the reason, I’m grateful not to be in his crosshairs.
