the beach."
"Carrie, that isn't your decision."
"If it's not nice, you can pull some strings for us. I can't wait to see you."
Avery braced herself. Her aunt had a very short fuse when things weren't going her way, and Avery was about to ignite it.
"I'm not going to be joining you. I'm not going to the safe house with-"
That was as far as she got. Carrie's scream made her cringe, and she had to move the phone away from her ear.
From where John Paul was seated, he could hear the aunt shouting. The color left Avery's face as she listened. He got up,
walked to the phone, and gently took it from her.
"Say good-bye, sugar."
"She's very upset."
"Uh-huh."
"I love you, Carrie, and I'll see you soon," she said. "Bye now."
She heard Carrie shouting, "Avery Elizabeth, don't you dare hang up this-"
John Paul placed the phone back in the cradle. "She sounds nice," he managed with a straight face.
The waitress was watching them as she placed their plates on the table. Avery pulled away from John Paul and went into the ladies' room to wash her hands. By the time she sat down in the booth, he had already devoured his sandwich and was finishing his iced tea.
"I don't want you to get the wrong idea about my aunt. Granted, she can be difficult, but I'm sure, once you got to know her,
you'd love her as much as I do."
He grinned. "I don't see that happening."
She took a bite of her turkey sandwich, thought it tasted like pressed sawdust, and picked up her glass of iced tea to wash it down.
"You want this?" she asked as she pushed the plate toward him.
He pushed it back. "You need to eat that," he said as he helped himself to one of the limp potato chips.
She noticed him watching the highway beyond the parking lot. "They don't get much business here, do they?"
"They're closing in fifteen minutes. Maybe that's why we're the only customers. Tell me something, Avery. When you filled out your application to work for the Bureau, was it your goal to become an agent?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't you?"
She was about to give him her standard answer, but then decided to be completely honest with him. Besides, she was pretty
sure he'd cut through the bull and know she wasn't telling him the truth.
"I thought I should want to be an agent. An FBI agent saved my life, and I think that was when I got it into my head that I
wanted to be just like him. You know, save people."
"So you were going to save the world. How old were you when you made this momentous decision?"
"Twelve. I'd just turned twelve."
"That's amazing."
"Why?"
"That you didn't change your mind, that you held on to that goal all through high school and college."
"Do you remember what you wanted to be when you were young?"
"I don't remember how old I was when I decided it would be pretty cool to be an astronaut. Maybe ten or eleven."
"That plan didn't work out?" she asked, teasing.
"Life got in the way," he said. "I ended up in engineering at Tulane, graduated, and joined the Marines."
"Why the Marines?"
"I was drunk."
She didn't buy it. "Tell me the real reason."
"I thought I could make a difference. I liked the discipline, and I wanted something different than Bowen, Louisiana."
"But you live in Bowen now, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do," he said. "I had to go away to realize what I really wanted in life. I actually live outside of Bowen, in the swamp."
"You really did drop out of life, didn't you?"
"I like solitude."
"Guess you don't get much company in the swamp."
"I like that too. Where did you go to college?" he asked.
"Santa Clara University," she answered. "Then Stanford." She took another bite of her sandwich and could barely get the
horrible food down. The bread was soggy; the lettuce was wilted, and the turkey was dry.
"Neither one of us went very far away. We both stayed close to home. Carrie wanted me to go to college in L.A. so I could
work part-time for her company."
"Doing what?"
She blushed. The instantaneous reaction made him all the more curious.
"She was pushing me to do more commercials. I got roped into doing one for her when she was in a bind."
"So what'd you have to do in this commercial?"
"Hold up a bar of soap, bat my eyelashes, and sing a silly jingle."
He didn't laugh but he came close. "Sing it for me."
"No," she said. "I was awful and I hated it. I guess I'm an introvert," she added with a shrug. "Since I'd had this dream of becoming an agent for so long, Carrie gave in and stopped nagging me. We both gave in actually."
She pushed her plate to the side, and John Paul reached over and took a couple more potato chips. "How did you give in?"
She folded her paper napkin just so and placed it on the table. "I did a project at a grade school in San Jose for one of my
classes, and I really enjoyed working with the children, so much so that I considered becoming a teacher. I was good with them," she added, a hint of surprise in her voice. "I even went so far as to take a couple of the classes I would need to get a teaching certificate. I thought I could teach history. I didn't tell Carrie, though."
"Why not? What does she have against teachers?"
"Nothing. She just didn't want me to become one."
He leaned back and stared at her. "Avery, what aren't you telling me?"
Ignoring the question, she called out to the waitress to please bring them their bill.
"Come on, babe. Answer me. Why didn't she want you to teach?"
"The pay's terrible."
"What else?"
"Teachers don't get much respect. You know what they say. Those who can do, and those who can't teach. Carrie didn't think there was much… status in teaching. My aunt isn't a shrew," she said. "I know I've made her sound terrible, but she isn't like
that. Honest."
"So was that all? That was your reason for not teaching? There wasn't enough status?"
"Carrie didn't think it would be a good idea for me to be around kids."
"Why not?"
He wasn't going to let it drop. "She thought it would be too difficult for me."
"Ah."
"What does that mean?"
He homed in like a pigeon. "You can't have kids, can you?"
She wanted to tell him. She felt an overwhelming need to tell him everything, to spill her guts, as her uncle Tony would say.
She'd never felt this need before, but John Paul wasn't like any other man. He didn't give a hoot about silly things like status.
He wasn't a game player, and he didn't have a hidden agenda. What you saw was what you got. Maybe that was the reason
she was so attracted to him. And so comfortable.
"I don't know how you made that leap."
"You told me you weren't ever going to get married, which I thought was a little odd."
She jumped on his comment with a vengeance. "Why? Because all women should want to get married? You can't really
believe that. Lots of women are very happy living the single life."
He put his hand up. "Whoa," he said. "I don't disagree, but when you told me you weren't going to get married, you were
damned defensive about it. That's what I thought was odd. Now I understand why. You can't have children, and that's the
reason Carrie doesn't want you working with them. I'm right, aren't I?"
"Yes."
She was primed for a fight. She'd let him see her vulnerability, and she knew that if he gave her an ounce of sympathy or was
the least bit compassionate, she would lose it. She'd either pull his hair out or her own. Worse, in her estimation, she might cry.
She knew her reaction was a defense mechanism, but she didn't care. Staring into his eyes, she waited, daring him to be nice