Chapter 10: Three Questions

"Yes," I said. "Baby."

The lobby clock ticked twice.

"Six weeks," I said. "I found out the Tuesday before the party."

Don looked at me.

Valeria opened her mouth.

"Not one word," Don said.

She closed it.

"Marco. Take your sister out of this inn. Both of you leave this town today."

"Don." Marco's grin had finally given out. "You're making a mistake. You don't know what she'll do with that."

"I know exactly what you did with it. You said it on the pier."

"I said nothing of the kind."

"You said baby, Marco. Before she'd told me. Before she'd told you."

Marco's face went blank.

He took Valeria's elbow.

She went with him across the lobby, her heels loud on the old boards and her eyes on the floor.

At the door she looked back at me once.

It was a very short look. It had no tears in it at all.

Then the bell over the door rang, and they were gone.

Don stood in the middle of the lobby without moving.

"I'm not going to ask you here," he said finally, in front of Bea and the innkeeper and the three people with brochures. "Where can I ask?"

"Porch," said Bea. "Seven o'clock. Bring your own blanket or I'll lend you the itchy one."

He came at seven.

He had changed into a gray sweater and jeans, which I had not known he owned.

He stood at the foot of the steps with his hands at his sides.

Bea opened the door and looked him over.

"Can you gut a fish?"

"No."

"Can you learn?"

"Yes."

"Good. Sit."

She dropped a wool blanket on the top step, gave him a hard look and went back inside.

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