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A
So A
Sophie gave the fish a green body and a yellow tail and a red dorsal fin. She drew wavy blue lines to represent the blue trout stream, and beside the stream she drew a stick figure with long brown hair, wearing a dress and red high heels, holding a fishing pole.
“Who is that?” Mason asked, tapping the figure in the picture.
“That’s the mama,” Sophie said, rolling her eyes at her father’s ignorance. “Duh.”
“But she doesn’t look like a bu
“This mama is a real lady. Like A
“And red shoes,” A
Mason wrapped his arms around Sophie. “We were thinking, A
“We’re not go
“Nope. Celia and I decided that wouldn’t be a good idea, because I love A
“Letha said Celia is gone for good this time,” Sophie said.
“That’s probably true,” Mason conceded.
“We should marry A
Mason left one arm around Sophie, and put the other around A
“See?” Sophie said, as if that settled it. She put the fish drawing aside and started on another one. “Keep reading, please.”
A
“I guess they have a hidden garden because the little bu
“No, that’s okay,” Sophie said, reaching for another sheet of paper and drawing a daisy. “Keep going.”
So A
Mason hovered over his stove, adjusting the heat under the skillet and putting a pot of peeled potatoes on to boil. He poured a glass of wine for himself and one for A
Near the end of the book, Sophie put her crayon down and sighed dramatically. “I hate this part,” she a
“Why?” A
Did Sophie resent the fact that she didn’t have a real mother like the bu
“Yeah, Soph,” Mason said, placing his hands protectively on the little girl’s shoulders. “Do you hate this part of the story because you’re sad about the runaway bu
“No,” Sophie said, frowning down at her picture. “I hate this part because I can’t draw a tightrope walker, like the one in the book.” She looked up at Mason. “You draw it.”
“Hmm.” Mason picked up a crayon and sketched a brown rope, and then added an extremely detailed sketch of a little girl with eyeglasses and blond curls, wearing a pink tutu with a pink pocketbook slung over her arm and one dainty foot placed on the rope, the other poised above it. “How’s that?”
“It’s me!” Sophie breathed. “You drew me!”
“Not bad,” A
“I am a man of many talents,” Mason said, bowing first to Sophie and then to A
“Draw the next one,” Sophie ordered. “The one with the bu
Mason glanced over at the stove. “Can’t,” he said. “My di
“Almost,” Sophie said, glancing over at the book. “Read the end, A
A
She stood and folded Sophie into her arms. Sophie wriggled contentedly and picked up her cue like a seasoned pro, reading in an unca
“‘Shucks,’ said the bu
“Come on, you two,” Mason called, dumping his mashed potatoes into a serving bowl. “My di
“In a minute,” A
“‘And so he did,’” Sophie said.
A
“‘“Have a carrot,” said the mother bu
Sophie took the proffered carrot and munched happily. “The end,” she a
* * *
A
“This can’t be good,” he said. “Don’t answer.”
“I can’t not answer when Sallie calls me,” A
“Hi, Sallie,” she said brightly. “This is a surprise.”
“I’m sure it is,” Sallie drawled. “A
A
Mason shook his head vigorously. “Tell her no. Tell her hell no.”
“Well, um, let me think what my morning is like,” A
“I won’t take up much of your time,” Sallie said. “Just a quick little visit.”
Put like that, she couldn’t very well decline, A
“What time?” she asked.
“Ten would be perfect,” Sallie said.
“Perfect,” A
53
They discussed the visit to Cherry Hill until midnight, right up until the moment A
“You do not have to go over there tomorrow,” Mason said, his lips lingering at her collarbone. “She can’t just call you up and issue a command performance.”
“I’m going,” A
“She’s still mightily pissed about me breaking up with Celia,” Mason said. “Even after I told her about the fake pregnancy.”
“And she’s just as mightily pissed at me for marrying you years ago—and agreeing to marry you again,” A
“Which is why you should politely decline,” Mason said.
“Nope,” A
* * *
In the bright light of Saturday morning, A