back.
“‘YOU’RE MY BEST BUDDY.’”
For several seconds, nobody said anything.
Then Frank wiped his cheek with one finger.
“Kid still draws terrible dinosaurs.”
I laughed.
Later, while Eliam packed his laptop, Frank nodded toward him.
“Everybody wants to give me the word.”
“KID STILL DRAWS TERRIBLE DINOSAURS.”
I looked at my husband.
Frank added, “Your husband was the first person stubborn enough to wait for me to find it.”
***
On the drive home, Eliam apologized.
“I should’ve told you I was on leave and that somebody needed me. I could’ve stopped there.”
“Yes.”
ELIAM APOLOGIZED.
“I was afraid you’d ask questions.”
“I probably would’ve.”
He waited.
“I don’t need every secret somebody trusts you with,” I said. “But I need to know when my life is being rearranged around one.”
“You’re right.”
“I WAS AFRAID YOU’D ASK QUESTIONS.”
“And I shouldn’t have followed you,” I admitted.
Eliam looked over.