that night. First, by discovering him on his secret mission. Then she'd shattered his vow to keep distant with her talk about sleeping with someone else. But he'd thought the resulting fiery act might have put some points on his side of the scoreboard. She couldn't deny how good they were together in bed, and he'd hoped that reminder might bring her home to him.
Of course, in the preceding months, he hadn't been available between the sheets, either. But that he could change, he decided. Men separated lovemaking from emotion all the time. His pace picked up as he approached No. 8 with new hope. He'd find them some privacy. He'd promise regular sex. Would that get her home by nightfall?
But privacy wasn't an immediate option. As he neared the house from the rear, he caught sight of three pairs of feminine legs propped on the porch railing. The boys, now dressed only in nylon sports shorts, were tussling in the sand at the bottom of the steps, distracted from their initial plan for a wade in the ocean by a rubber ball they both wanted to claim. Just out of sight of his wife and the others, David paused, listening to the women's conversation.
Rebecca was brainstorming ideas for her final assignment for the history seminar she was taking. It apparently included an in-class presentation. "One of my friends can trace her lineage back to the Mayflower, and she has a family tree all mapped out. This other boy is going to talk about slavery. He's going to bring in the scrap of a dress an ancestor wore when she was auctioned at eight years old. In comparison, everything I've thought of is boring." With an agitated movement, she crossed and uncrossed her legs, the ankle bracelet they'd bought her for her thirteenth birthday winking in the sunlight.
David shook his head. How could she be a teenager already? But she was; even her voice sounded nearly adult to him now. She'd be moving on from their family so soon. And before that, moving on to high school in the fall, where they could lose her in other insidious ways.
The thought tightened a vise around his chest, and he couldn't catch his breath. His tongue felt thick, and there were black spots at the edges of his vision. It felt like a heart attack, it felt just like that morning on his fortieth birthday when his across-the-street neighbor, Mac Kearney, had called his cell phone. Breathe, David ordered himself now. Breathe. If he keeled over in the soft sand, no one would hear him fall.
As he tried sucking in air, another voice started talking. It belonged to the woman who was giving Griffin trouble. Jane. "Can your project cover more modern history?"
"I guess," said Rebecca, in the tones of a teen beleaguered.
David's vision cleared as more oxygen infused his bloodstream. His anxiety ratcheted down a notch, and he leaned against the side of the house, clutching the soccer apparatus to his gut.
"How about World War Two?" Jane was suggesting. "You could interview Mr. Monroe. Find out what it was like to be a foreign correspondent. Maybe as part of your presentation he could come speak to your class."
"Hmm..." David's daughter was mulling it over. "Okay. And what if..." her voice gained enthusiasm "...what if Uncle Griff could do the same about Afghanistan?"
"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Tess put in.
Rebecca was standing now, ignoring her mother. "I'm going to ask."
"Let's start with Mr. Monroe first," Jane said. "Can I take Russ along?" As she also came to her feet, David could see she had his youngest son on her hip.
It was only Tess who remained on the porch as the two other females trekked off, Duncan and Oliver on their heels like puppies sniffing out new amusement.
Even though he now had his wife alone, David hesitated, staying hidden from her. There was still a residual aching pressure in his chest, and he wasn't sure that his dry tongue could convincingly promise great sex. He wasn't sure it was even a wonderful idea any longer. Damn it! Though he wanted his family back at the house, he couldn't risk getting too close to any of them.
"Did you have something you wanted to say to me?" Tess pitched her voice in his direction.
Shaking his head, he gave up on lurking and moved around the corner to mount the porch steps. When it came to the kids, she always had a