Page 83 of Tangled Memories

Liane straightened.

Stormy passed her the book.

Liane read the title aloud; her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, boy!”

“We’ll talk after you’ve finished it, okay?”

“Okay,” Liane answered absently, already on page two.

Sitting there, watching her daughter silently sound out words, Stormy suddenly felt superfluous. She joined Tyler on the deck. He was stretched out in a lounge chair, eyes closed against the drooping sun.

“I gave it to her,” she said.

“Steaks will be ready in about ten minutes,” he replied.

“I’m sorry I criticized your choice. You were right. If a child is old enough to ask questions and has the curiosity—”

He raised one eyelid. “I lied. I wouldn’t have given the book to Priss. I would’ve made her mother do it.”

“Well.”

“But if I ever have a son, I’ll—”

“You want more children?”

“A man likes to think he’ll leave something noteworthy behind when he’s gone.”

“So does a woman,” Stormy said.

They sat there in silence, Stormy wondering just how far they could carry the conversation. Stormy was also wondering just how far into the book Liane was.

Liane came to the screen door. “Tyler’s phone is ringing,” she said, holding up the iPhone.

Both adults leapt up.

“Keep an eye on the steaks,” Tyler ordered.

He had not returned by the time Stormy judged the meat to be medium-well done. She put the steaks on the platter, took it into the kitchen, and began setting the table.

Liane was still in the alcove. She was gazing out the windows, the book closed.

“Do you have any questions, sweetie?” Stormy asked.

Liane emitted a doleful sigh. “I’m probably gonna have to read this to Davie and Tommy,” she said.

“Oh, why?”

“They get to keep their pe-nus-es their whole lives.”

“Do they think differently?” Stormy asked, pleased that Liane was absorbing everything so matter-of-factly.

“Well, of course, they do, Mom. I told them when they got big like me, it’d fall off.”

“Oh.”

“But this book says I never had one, ’cause I’m a girl. Is that true?”

“That’s true, sweetheart.”