driving toward the bottom of the peninsula, Claire called one of her managers, making sure things would run well at the café in her absence. The more she and Whitaker talked, the more she believed in their mission. She needed to know who this boy was, how he and David knew each other, and how much of the story was true. Had the man she’d married and grown to trust actually been living a second life? Once again, she found herself angry at him, but this time she had just cause. And what else was there? What else had David been hiding?
Claire turned up the reggae as they left St. Pete and crossed the vast stretch of Tampa Bay on I-275, which separated St. Pete and Bradenton. The wind picked up immediately, but it was too beautiful a day to put the top up. Slivers of thick jungle dotted with oak trees and several varieties of palms bordered the highway, and, beyond that, the sparkling blue of Tampa Bay on both sides.
Rising high over the water on the new cable-stayed bridge, Claire looked at the gangly mangroves of the Terra Ceia Aquatic Preserve and then the northern finger of Anna Maria poking out into the blue. How many times had David crossed this bridge?
After their descent, she looked over and noticed Whitaker reddening from the sun. “Do I need to put the top up? You’re looking like a steamed crab.”
Whitaker smiled. “I’ve been hiding in my dungeon for months.”
“I can see that!”
“So before you called my book pop culture, we were discussing how often our paths have crossed. Think about every step that has led us to this drive. At some point, you decided to open up a café on Pass-a-Grille.”
Claire turned down a Raging Fyah tune. “That was about ten years ago.”
“Ten years ago,” he emphasized. “Think about that. You opened the café about the same time I published my book.”
“That’s right,” Claire agreed. “Books were my escape from all the stress of starting a new business.” As the words left her mouth, she realized how much of her life had been a giant escape. Opening Leo’s South had been an escape from the sad reality of living a parentless life. David had been making plenty of money, but what the heck else was she going to do with her time? How else accept the death of her potential motherhood?
“I remember you coming up to me that day at the café. I thought you were just another girl hitting on me.”
“You’re such a dirtbag.” She hit him on the leg. “I most certainly wasn’t hitting on you. I was happily married.”
“I got that. It didn’t take you long to bring up David and flash your ring in my face. It’s just funny to think about. How lives intertwine.” He added, “I wish I’d been more open to your request to finish his book from the beginning. I can’t believe I lied to you and kept trying to back out. I’m so sorry.”
She was touched by his sincerity. “Well, now that you’re out of your cave, think about this. Everything you and I have both been through was meant to be. I might never have found that picture if I hadn’t given you the desk.”
“And if I hadn’t stormed into my office, almost deleted everything I’d written, and—”
“Almost deleted the files?”
“I didn’t do it.” He wagged his finger. “Thought about it for a second but didn’t do it.”
Claire’s eyes widened. “Why in the world would you consider deleting months of work? You’re such a drama queen, a bona fide kook.”
Whitaker smiled and stuck out his fist for a fist bump. “Here’s to two kooks looking for answers in a world full of question marks.”
“The long-stemmed variety of question marks, no doubt.”
“Bouquets of them.” Claire gave him a bump and then took his hand. “Thanks for doing this with me. Thanks for caring.”
Whitaker blushed. “Thanks for resuscitating me.” With that he unbuckled his seat belt and nearly stood as he raised his head above the windshield. With his curly hair blowing in the wind, he yelled a call of freedom and happiness.
When he looked back to her, Claire was smiling so hard she could have kissed him again. She looked back to the steering wheel and to her rings. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t kiss him again until she’d taken the rings off for good.
The time had come.
Out of nowhere, several pink flamingos crossed over the highway. “Look!”
Whitaker turned toward the