“How did you know I did theater?” A second later, Teri shook her head. “Right, because you can know everything and there’s no privacy. That’s cool.”
“Think about it,” Real Gilroy said. “You could have a bright future.”
Teri nodded. Her head was spinning—but in a good way. “I will. I promise.”
The two agents who’d done the sweep of the house came out. “All clear,” the male agent said.
“We’ll be off then. Take care,” Real Gilroy said.
“You too,” Teri said, giving him a wave. She watched as all three agents ran across the yard to the chopper, and a moment later, it started up again, the sound of the blades cutting through the quiet suburban night. The helicopter rose straight into the air, above the trees, up and up and up. Teri watched until it banked left and then headed out of sight. A moment later, the sound was gone and the leaves settled back down… like it had never been there at all.
* * *
The guesthouse was quiet and dark when she got home—Kat and Stevie still in New York, even though it was close to three. The Stones had come back an hour after she’d gotten the kids to bed, furious about their car trouble and so apologetic about the time that they’d paid her double the rate. Teri showed them the pictures that it turned out Daryl had Photoshopped on the chopper ride home. They showed an evening with the kids, her, and Kat—watching movies, playing board games, everything ordinary and wholesome.
Teri had used the lateness as a reason to explain Kat’s absence—that she had a curfew she’d had to go home for. As the Stones walked her to the door, Bobbie Stone asked her if she’d had a good night. And she’d taken only a tiny pause before smiling and telling them that she had.
Teri stepped inside the guesthouse. She placed her shoes by the door—you could tell she’d been running through the woods; they were filthy—and looked around. Then she walked over and flopped down on the couch. There were all the snacks laid out for when she thought she’d have a very different kind of evening ahead of her. It was a little crazy, just how much could change over the course of a night. She curled up on the couch. She figured she’d start one of the movies while she waited for Kat and Stevie to come home. Then she could hear all about their night, even if she was legally forbidden from telling them about hers.
She’d just turned on the TV when her phone beeped with a series of texts.
Dustin Alberta
Hi Teri—hope you got home okay.
Look, I know we just met, and maybe this is too much.
But I didn’t want to play any games—just wanted to tell you how I feel. I really like you.
And I was just wondering…
How do you feel about long-distance relationships?
Teri, reading this, smiled wide. She took a deep breath and started to text Dustin back.
Suddenly, despite the night she’d just had, she was no longer the slightest bit tired.
CHAPTER 29
Stevie
Shh,” I said to Kat as we stood outside the door to Teri’s guesthouse, Kat stamping her feet in the snow. It looked like it had actually snowed a little less here—which had been a relief, usually it was the opposite—just a dusting that I had a feeling would be gone by the morning.
“I didn’t say anything!” she said, looking offended.
“It was a preemptive shh,” I said. I bit my lip hard because I was on the verge of giggling, and Kat’s outraged expression wasn’t doing anything to quell it. The night—morning?—had taken on a punchy, fever-dream quality, with nothing seeming quite real anymore.
“You’re the one who’s laughing,” she pointed out, though I could see that she was starting to laugh too—her voice was getting tighter, and higher, the sound of a laugh bubbling underneath somewhere.
“I’m not,” I said, lowering my voice and trying to get the corners of my mouth to turn down. Kat burst out laughing and she got me too, both of us giggling and trying to stay upright.
“What are we even laughing about?” she laugh-whispered when we’d composed ourselves slightly.
“No idea,” I said, taking a breath and trying to stop the last giggles, the ones that kept escaping, like hiccups. I had a feeling a piece of it was just that we wanted to celebrate that we could do this again—that we could laugh, that things were