Part 50 (1/2)

”It doesn't do me any good to talk about all the different ways I was tormented as a kid,” Muldoon said. ”I mean, what? Is that going to make you like me more? I don't think so. It sucked, all right? I got over it. Next page.”

”Okay,” she said, leaning forward to rest her chin in her hand as she gazed at him. Next page indeed. ”Why did the fat math geek join the Navy?”

”To become a SEAL,” he answered without hesitation. ”I wanted that from the time I was in seventh grade.”

Really? ”So what happened in seventh grade?”

”I almost drowned,” he told her. ”That was the year we moved to Maine from Ohio. Not much of a need to learn to swim in Ohio. At least not where we lived. I mean I knew the basics, sure, but I really couldn't do more than doggy paddle.”

”So you took one look at the ocean and fell in and... ?”

He shot her an exasperated look.

”Tell me the story. I'm dying of curiosity.”

”A couple of kids from school took me out on their father's sailboat,” Muldoon said. ”And we capsized. I almost drowned, but I didn't.”

”Whoa,” she said. ”Whoa, whoa, whoa. This is you, right? Fat math geek? And on top of that you're the new kid. I remember the new kids in middle school. They were the lowest of low sc.u.m in the pecking order. And suddenly you're getting invited out onto someone's yacht?”

He laughed, and now she was the one who was having a hard time not thinking about him naked. They'd spent much of their night together laughing.

”Sailboat, not yacht,” he said. ”It was a dinghy with a masta”which is way not a yacht. And I wasn't invited. I was dared to go out one afternoon when the winds were pretty higha”there was a storm coming. It was crazy.”

Oh, G.o.d. ”And you were stupid enough not to say no. I thought math geeks were smarter than that.”

”I was stupid enough to hope I could gain their respect and maybe actually make a friend. And I wasn't used to the Maine weather patterns yet. I didn't realize it would be that dangerous; it just seemed really windy. So yes. We went out. And, man oh man, Joan, that puppy flew. I mean it soared.” He grinned at her, remembering. Even now, all these years later, that boat ride still turned him on. ”It was amazing. I loved ita”I didn't ever want to stop.

”Of course, right about then we capsized, and the waves were so high, the dinghy just filled up and sank. They're not supposed to do that, they're designed to turn over and float, but this one went down like a rock. And Wayne was flipping out because Randy got knocked on the head by the boom and he was throwing up, right there in the water. It was all Wayne could do to keep them both afloat. And he was going, 'We're going to die! We're gonna die!' and I thought about this book I'd read about Navy frogmen and SEALs, and it was all about how they didn't panic in the water, about how they didn't fight the currents and waves, but used them to get where they wanted to go.

”So I grabbed Wayne by the back of his jeans and, well, we made it to sh.o.r.e.” He looked up and pushed himself halfway out of his chair as Tom carried three mugs of coffee toward the table. ”Let me help you, sir.”

”Sit,” Tom ordered. ”I've got it.”

”Thank you, sir.”

Tom went back for the dessert.

”So then what?” Joan asked.

Muldoon took a sip of coffee and she did, too. It was hot and black with a hint of cinnamon.

”I ran for the nearest house and pounded on the door. They called 911 and we all went to the hospital. Randy stayed in for a few days. He actually had a hairline fracture of his skull. I remember sitting with Wayne in the waiting room, wrapped in blankets, waiting for our parents to come pick us up.”

”Don't tell me,” Joan said. ”After that, Wayne and Randy wanted to be your best friends, but you kept your distance, because not only were they cruel, they were stupid. And you were smart enough to not want to be friends with them. And you always just smiled whenever you saw them because you knew that without you, they would have drowned.”

Muldoon smiled and shook his head very slightly. He started to say something, but then Tom was there, carrying three plates with enormous slices of baklava.

”I'm going to have to toss this at you and run,” he told Joan. ”I just got a call from Chip Crowley. I'm needed in his office.” He turned to Muldoon. ”We're going to get a chance to talk to Max Bhagat. I need you to go over to that restaurant that Larry Tucker likes so mucha”it's right down here somewhere by the watera””

”I know where it is,” Muldoon said, getting to his feet. ”It's that French place where cell phone service doesn't work. You walk in, and you might as well be on the moon.”

”Yeah, and the staff speaks with such strong French accents, you have no idea if they get your message straight if you call on the land line. Although you speak French, don't you, Mike?”

”I'll go over there, sir. It's just around the corner.”

”Good. Find the senior chief and Jacquette,” Tom ordered. ”I want them to join me at Crowley's, ASAP. Thank you. And I'm sorry,” he added to Joan. He grabbed one of the pieces of baklava before he dashed away.

”I'll be back in a few minutes,” Muldoon said to her. ”Can you wait?”

”I can't,” she lied.

”I guess I'll see you later then,” he said.

”Mike, this friend thing isn't working,” she said, but he, too, was already gone.

Mary Lou knew this was a terrible mistake long before the salads were served.

Bob looked incredible. He wore a suit with his tie neatly fastened, and his golden hair was slicked back from his face, a style that accentuated his male modelesque cheekbones.

He kept touching her. Her arm, her hand, her shoulder. And she knew he expected more than an opportunity to share a meal. She was married, but she'd said yes, and he'd thought she'd meant the Big Yes.

And when he'd called this morning, when she'd said it, maybe she had. It was more than obvious that she had no future with Sam. And it had been her MO in the past to hook up with a new lover before her old one was even out of her bed.

She'd always thought of it as finding a relations.h.i.+p parachute. The new man might not be perfect, but he'd keep her from spending even a single day alone.

The thought of being alone scared the s.h.i.+t out of her. And now she had Haley to take care of, too.

So here she was, and there was no doubt about it any longer. Bob Schwegel, Insurance Sales, wanted to f.u.c.k her.

He was handsome, he was smart, he had money and a nice car.

He was, without a doubt, the perfect parachute.

But all she could think about was Ihbraham. Who loved her. Enough to keep his distance so that he didn't f.u.c.k her.

And wasn't that the oddest thing?

Bob was talking about his work, about selling insurancea” which was just about as interesting to her as shoveling cow manure from a barna”and she let her mind wander.

Back to Ihbraham.

Who loved her.

Ihbraham, who, with his quiet gentleness, simply by sitting beside her and breathing, made her happier than she'd ever been in her entire life.

Even though he wasn't a SEAL. Even though he wasn't white. Even though he was only a gardener.

Bob put down his salad fork. ”You're not really interested in Mrs. Wilke's policy changes, are you?”

She shook her head. ”I'm sorry.”