plan was to get lost in the sound of the waves and the wash of the wind. A jogger went by, and then a lady walking her bulldog, and then a couple appeared on my horizon: a man and a woman strolling just at the edge of the waves, and as they got close enough for me to see who they were, it turned out to be Duncan, with … a woman.
And just like that: I wasn’t done with him anymore.
A very pretty woman, I should mention. Not that I was being weird about it. But it was a thing that was hard to not notice. Anyone would have noticed.
Okay, fine. It bothered me.
A noxious gas of jealousy seeped into my lungs as they came closer.
The woman was wearing a smart black winter coat with a ruby-colored scarf. And Duncan … well, Duncan’s hair was windblown into a messy, bed-head, Old Duncan–style, and he was in jeans and a red, cheerful Norwegian sweater … and get this: He was smiling.
He dropped the smile as soon as he saw me, though.
I dropped mine, too, on principle.
That’s when Chuck Norris came leaping out of the dunes and went streaking past us—fast as a greyhound, skittering over the wet sand at the water’s edge.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hello,” the woman said back—and then Duncan, lingering behind, said, “Hello.”
A pause.
Finally, the woman said, “The two of you must … know each other?”
“From work,” Duncan confirmed.
“I’m Sam,” I said, holding out my hand to shake. “The librarian from Kempner.”
Her eyes got big, and delighted at that—and maybe a little bit … teasing? “Sam!” she singsonged. “The librarian! From Kempner!” Then she turned in an exaggerated way to Duncan—who looked, in turn, defeated.
“Sam,” Duncan said to me, “This is Helen. My sister. Who hates me.”
His sister.
I released a breath.
What is it about a man in a Norwegian sweater?
Helen turned to me and looked me up and down—at my pom-pom scarf and my knitted hat with earflaps and braided ties hanging down. Then she gave me a very quick hug, said, “You’re adorable!” and spun herself around to start dragging the both of us back the way they had just come. “Let’s take her to meet the crew!” she said, as we fell into step and Chuck Norris led the way.
I couldn’t think of a polite way to tell her that her brother was a mural murderer—and that I had just decided he was my mortal enemy forever. She was just so … cheerful. I couldn’t find a way to work it in.
“And what are you doing for Christmas?” she asked me.
“I’m going to Austin. With a friend. Whose husband died last summer.” I glanced at Duncan like that was somehow his fault.
But this lady Helen was not picking up my bitter tone. “That’s sounds fun.” She took off jogging toward Chuck Norris, who’d found a tennis ball. She took it and pelted it farther ahead, toward a group of people down the beach.
“That’s your sister,” I said, as we watched her run off.
“Yeah.”
“I thought she was your girlfriend.”
Duncan burst out with a laugh. “No. No girlfriend. Not since—a long time.”
I shrugged. “That seems like a shame.”
That landed wrong. Duncan was quiet for a second. Then he said, “Hey, I’m glad we ran into you.”
“Yeah?”
“I want to tell you something. About the mural.”
“Nope,” I said. “Not talking about that.”
“Yes,” Duncan said. “It’s important.”
“I’m trying to be pleasant right now, but I swear if you get that started, I might seriously drown you in the ocean.”
“Just give me a second to explain—”
But I was shaking my head, turning away.
“Listen!” he shouted.
That got my attention. I turned back.
He pushed out a hard sigh. “The mural’s not gone.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means … they painted over it, yes. But the paint they used—it washes off. It’s water-based. It comes off with a sponge.”
My mouth fell open—and then I just stood there, blinking.
“It’s still there. It’s not gone. I just wanted you to know that.”
I shook my head for a bit before I could pull it together. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Uh. Because you are terrifying when you’re that mad. Not even kidding.”
And then I just … started laughing. The relief of that news was physical. It was like my whole heart just unclenched.
“I do think neutral colors are better for safety. But that mural was all the things you said. It was sunshine. It was magic. So I researched paints until I could find something temporary. They were supposed to