the porch out front.”
“Can I go play with him?”
“You’ll have to set the table first,” Elizabeth instructed him. “And you’ll only have a couple of minutes. Dinner’s almost ready.”
“Okay,” he said, turning around. “Thanks.”
As he raced off, she leaned around Thibault and cupped her mouth with her hands. “Don’t forget the table!”
Ben skidded to a halt. He opened a drawer and grabbed three forks, then threw them onto the table like a dealer in Vegas, followed by the plates Elizabeth had set aside earlier. In all, it took him less than ten seconds—and the table showed it—before he vanished from view. When he was gone, Elizabeth shook her head. “Until Zeus got here, Ben used to be a quiet, easygoing child after school. He used to read and study, and now all he wants to do is chase your dog.”
Thibault made a guilty face. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Believe me, I like a little . . . calmness as much as the next mother, but it’s nice to see him so excited.”
“Why don’t you get him his own dog?”
“I will. In time. Once I see how things go with Nana.” She took a sip of beer and nodded toward the house. “Let’s go check on dinner. I think the oven’s probably ready.”
Back inside, Elizabeth slipped the cookie sheet into the oven and stirred the meat and salsa before ladling both into bowls. As she brought them to the table along with a stack of paper napkins, Thibault straightened the silverware and plates and grabbed the cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes. When Elizabeth set her beer on the table, Thibault was struck again by her natural beauty.
“Do you want to call Ben, or should I?”
He forced himself to turn away. “I’ll call Ben,” he said.
Ben was sitting on the front porch, stroking a panting Zeus from his forehead to his tail in one long stroke.
“You tired him out,” Thibault observed.
“I run pretty fast,” Ben agreed.
“You ready to eat? Dinner’s on the table.”
Ben got up, and Zeus raised his head. “Stay here,” Thibault said. Zeus’s ears flattened as if he were being punished. But he laid his head back down as Ben and Thibault entered the house.
Elizabeth was already seated at the table. As soon as Ben and Thibault sat down, Ben immediately started loading his taco with the seasoned ground beef.
“I want to hear more about your walk across the country,” Elizabeth said.
“Yeah, me too,” Ben said, spooning on salsa.
Thibault reached for his napkin and spread it on his lap. “What would you like to know?”
She flourished her napkin. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
For a moment, Thibault considered the truth: that it began with a photograph in the Kuwaiti desert. But he couldn’t tell them about that. Instead, he started by describing a cold March morning, when he’d slung his backpack over his arm and started down the shoulder of the road. He told them about the things he saw—for Ben’s sake, he made sure to describe all the wildlife he’d encountered—and talked about some of the more colorful people he’d encountered. Elizabeth seemed to realize that he wasn’t accustomed to talking so much about himself, so she prompted him by asking him questions whenever he seemed to be running out of things to say. From there, she asked him a bit more about college and was amused when Ben learned that the man sitting at the table actually dug up real-life skeletons. Ben asked a few questions of his own: Do you have any brothers or sisters? No. Did you play sports? Yeah, but I was average, not great. What’s your favorite football team? The Denver Broncos, of course. As Ben and Thibault chatted, Elizabeth followed their exchange with amusement and interest.
As the evening wore on, the sunlight slanting through the window shifted and waned, dimming the kitchen. They finished eating, and after excusing himself, Ben rejoined Zeus on the porch. Thibault helped Elizabeth clean up the table, wrapping the leftovers and stacking plates and silverware in the dishwasher. Breaking her own rule, Elizabeth opened a second beer and offered another to Thibault before they escaped the heat of the kitchen and went outside.
On the porch, the air felt noticeably cooler, and a breeze made the leaves on the trees dance. Ben and Zeus were playing again, and Ben’s laughter hung suspended in the air. Elizabeth leaned on the railing, watching her son, and Thibault had to force himself not to stare in her direction. Neither of them felt the need