“Are they going to turn me into a freak show?”
“Well, a show, anyway,” I said. “Just remember it’s your story. You tell it. Don’t let them put words in your mouth.”
“I’ve got plenty of my own words.”
“You’re going to be a busy woman for a while.”
“Yeah, a busy little me.”
I took her hand and rounded the water. Ahead of us, frogs plopped and barn owls screeched on the hunt. A light fog had rolled in, a bit of chill in it.
“You know the best part?” she asked. “I finally get to be a mom to my daughter. We’re going to get to know each other for the first time, as such. Under the banner of truth. I’m going to be a mom, Roland!”
“You’ll be outstanding,” I said.
“Roland? I do have one regret. You only got the stripped-down version of me. You got the base model. I want you to experience the limited edition. The best Penelope Rideout you can stand. Get it?”
“I think I can handle that,” I said.
I like her, too, said Justine.
“I’ll see you early, then,” said Penelope. “Tonight I need to spend some time with Daley.”
Under the palapa we held each other for a silent while, then she set off for casita three. She was wearing the same black sweater as she had the night she’d searched downtown San Clemente so thoroughly — door-to-door — looking for some sign of her daughter. Tonight she had her arms around herself like she had then. Against the chill. Against the world.
Halfway there, she stopped and turned and gave me her hard blue stare. And that awkward wave of hers, part “Hi” and part “See you later.”
Then continued to the casita, worked the door lock in the halo of the porch light, and went inside.