attractive. He hoped—and the thought later struck him as ludicrous—that the man she saw through her window aroused her desire. The woman he saw aroused his.
She didn’t open the door, just rolled down the window—she wasn’t giving in yet. “Oh, shit.
Milo
.”
“Hey.”
“Well, what,” she said. “You’re in town?”
“Not really. Just a few hours. To see you.” When she didn’t answer, he thought that maybe he was taking too much control, being too forceful, so he added, “If that’s all right with you.”
“Well. Sure.”
“Are you picking up Stef?”
“Mom’s in town—she’s taking care of that.” She paused. “Were you wanting to see her?”
There was nothing he wanted more than to see his daughter, that single spark of Technicolor in his grayscale existence, but he shook his head. “Probably not a good idea. I have to leave again pretty quickly. I don’t want to upset her.”
He hoped she noticed how considerate he was being now. Not like last year when he’d demanded that they disappear with him.
He said, “Look, I don’t want to keep you.”
“Get in.” She pressed a button to unlock the doors. “I can drop you off on the way.”
He ran around to the passenger side before she could change her mind.
In the old days, he always drove. This was her seat, and behind them Stephanie would sit, asking inopportune questions. He realized that he had seldom watched her drive, and was impressed by how smoothly she pulled out of her parallel parking situation. She seemed to be doing just fine without him.
“How’s Little Miss?”
“She’s all right,” Tina began, then shook her head. “Not entirely. She’s been cracking her knuckles.”
“Who’d she pick that up from?”
“She doesn’t even know she’s doing it. It’s a nervous tic.”
Six-year-olds weren’t supposed to have nervous tics, Milo thought as he felt the desire for a pill. “She feels anxiety in the house,” he said.
“Because you’re not there? Maybe. The counselor says it’s common in divorced families.”
“We’re not divorced.”
“Maybe it’s something else. She’s been having nightmares.”
“Oh.”
Tina nodded at the road. “Did you hear about that kid in Germany? Adriana Something? Just another kidnapped girl, but it’s all over the news here. She had a nightmare about it last night. About being kidnapped.”
Milo really wanted that Dexedrine.
“She’ll get over it. Besides, it’s being replaced with Olympic fever,” she said to the road. “They’ve been talking it up at school, learning about the Greeks and Beijing. Stef’s crazy for the javelin throw—it’s really fired her imagination. Dana Pounds is her hero.”
“Dana Pounds?”
“One of our javelin throwers—or whatever you call them. Stef’s anxious about her upcoming trials.” She grinned. “Patrick keeps threatening to take us.”
“To Beijing?” he said, terrified of the image that provoked.
“That’s what he says,” she said, shrugging into a turn, “but you know him. When you’ve got him in front of you, he’ll do anything. Once he’s out the door, he’s really out the door.”
He said nothing at first, because he didn’t want to speak too quickly, too unthinkingly. He reassessed his terror. Though Patrick, Stephanie’s biological father, was hardly an ideal role model, the fact was that Milo couldn’t take her to the Olympics. Patrick was her only chance. And the Chinese themselves? The mole? According to Dzubenko, they knew about Milo Weaver’s family and could easily pick them out of a crowd of thousands, but that didn’t mean they would be in danger. Families were neutral ground in their trade. “I hope he follows through,” he admitted finally. “It’s something she’d never forget. Hell, you’d never forget it. You should call his bluff, let him catch you boning up on Mandarin.”
She laughed. “I just might do that.”
“Yevgeny said he’s come by a few times. Is
She didn’t open the door, just rolled down the window—she wasn’t giving in yet. “Oh, shit.
Milo
.”
“Hey.”
“Well, what,” she said. “You’re in town?”
“Not really. Just a few hours. To see you.” When she didn’t answer, he thought that maybe he was taking too much control, being too forceful, so he added, “If that’s all right with you.”
“Well. Sure.”
“Are you picking up Stef?”
“Mom’s in town—she’s taking care of that.” She paused. “Were you wanting to see her?”
There was nothing he wanted more than to see his daughter, that single spark of Technicolor in his grayscale existence, but he shook his head. “Probably not a good idea. I have to leave again pretty quickly. I don’t want to upset her.”
He hoped she noticed how considerate he was being now. Not like last year when he’d demanded that they disappear with him.
He said, “Look, I don’t want to keep you.”
“Get in.” She pressed a button to unlock the doors. “I can drop you off on the way.”
He ran around to the passenger side before she could change her mind.
In the old days, he always drove. This was her seat, and behind them Stephanie would sit, asking inopportune questions. He realized that he had seldom watched her drive, and was impressed by how smoothly she pulled out of her parallel parking situation. She seemed to be doing just fine without him.
“How’s Little Miss?”
“She’s all right,” Tina began, then shook her head. “Not entirely. She’s been cracking her knuckles.”
“Who’d she pick that up from?”
“She doesn’t even know she’s doing it. It’s a nervous tic.”
Six-year-olds weren’t supposed to have nervous tics, Milo thought as he felt the desire for a pill. “She feels anxiety in the house,” he said.
“Because you’re not there? Maybe. The counselor says it’s common in divorced families.”
“We’re not divorced.”
“Maybe it’s something else. She’s been having nightmares.”
“Oh.”
Tina nodded at the road. “Did you hear about that kid in Germany? Adriana Something? Just another kidnapped girl, but it’s all over the news here. She had a nightmare about it last night. About being kidnapped.”
Milo really wanted that Dexedrine.
“She’ll get over it. Besides, it’s being replaced with Olympic fever,” she said to the road. “They’ve been talking it up at school, learning about the Greeks and Beijing. Stef’s crazy for the javelin throw—it’s really fired her imagination. Dana Pounds is her hero.”
“Dana Pounds?”
“One of our javelin throwers—or whatever you call them. Stef’s anxious about her upcoming trials.” She grinned. “Patrick keeps threatening to take us.”
“To Beijing?” he said, terrified of the image that provoked.
“That’s what he says,” she said, shrugging into a turn, “but you know him. When you’ve got him in front of you, he’ll do anything. Once he’s out the door, he’s really out the door.”
He said nothing at first, because he didn’t want to speak too quickly, too unthinkingly. He reassessed his terror. Though Patrick, Stephanie’s biological father, was hardly an ideal role model, the fact was that Milo couldn’t take her to the Olympics. Patrick was her only chance. And the Chinese themselves? The mole? According to Dzubenko, they knew about Milo Weaver’s family and could easily pick them out of a crowd of thousands, but that didn’t mean they would be in danger. Families were neutral ground in their trade. “I hope he follows through,” he admitted finally. “It’s something she’d never forget. Hell, you’d never forget it. You should call his bluff, let him catch you boning up on Mandarin.”
She laughed. “I just might do that.”
“Yevgeny said he’s come by a few times. Is
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