“After my last experience with marriage, I’m kinda sour on the institution.”
“Besides, a woman doesn’t need a man to complete her life,” Victoria said.
“Yeah,” Katie said. She usually agreed with her older sister.
“Were we speaking to you?” Shelby asked.
“You said ‘kids.’” Victoria pointed at herself and Katie.
“It won’t be long,” I said, “before these two start dating.”
Shelby and Bobby glared at me as if I’d told an off-color joke. I ate more corn.
Between bites of the corn, grilled chicken, and shrimp and sips of wine, beer, and orange pop, we talked. We talked about the president, and the weather, which seemed cooler than it had been in past summers despite fears of global warming, and the price of gas, and the Twins, who were once again in the thick of the American League Central Division race. Finally Victoria said, “McKenzie, when are you going back?”
“Tomorrow,” I said.
Nina dropped her fork on her plate. Her startling silver-blue eyes became as dark as her shoulder-length black hair. She spoke very slowly.
“Back to Libbie?” she said.
I nodded.
“When did you make that decision?”
“Monday night.”
“Give me one good reason.”
Before I could, Victoria answered for me. “Because they broke into his house and kidnapped him and kept him in a trunk—a trunk! They kept me in a trunk, too.”
Shelby tried to slip an arm around her shoulders, but Victoria slid off the picnic table and out of reach. I thought she might cry. There were no tears in her eyes, though. Only rage.
“They kept him prisoner,” Victoria said. “They hurt him and they kept him prisoner and maybe it was mistaken identity like you said, but someone has to pay for that. The guy who started it all, the Imposter, he’s got to pay for that. Him and everyone who helped him. Otherwise—otherwise you’ll always wonder. You’ll always be afraid. I’m not afraid anymore because the people who hurt me, they’re dead or they’re in prison. The people who hurt McKenzie, they’re still out there and they’ll probably hurt other people, too, unless someone stops them. If McKenzie doesn’t stop them, who will?”
No one had anything to say to that except Victoria’s younger sister, who filled the uncomfortable silence that followed with a simple declaration.
“Listen to her,” Katie said. “She’s an honor student.”
Nina sat on the edge of a stool in my kitchen and held the stem of a wineglass against the counter as I filled it with pinot noir.
“What Victoria said earlier, is that why you’re going to Libbie in the morning?” she said.
“Partly,” I said.
“What else?”
“Curiosity. I want to know why the Imposter picked me. Unfortunately, I won’t get the answer unless I find him.”
“This doesn’t have anything to do with the women you told me about, Tracie Blake and Sharren what’s-her-name?”
“Certainly not. C’mon…”
Nina thought about it, then said, “Maybe we should get married.”
The remark caught me by surprise, and it took a couple of beats before I could reply. “Nope.”
“No?”
“You don’t want to get married; you’ve made that clear. If you’re talking about it now, it’s because you’re thinking about those women—you’re thinking you can’t trust me, and honestly, Nina, if that’s true, then you’ll trust me even less after we’re married.”
“Oh, McKenzie, don’t be silly. Of course I trust you. That’s not it.”
“What, then?”
“If we were married, well, would you really leave me to go to Libbie?” She gave me an exaggerated wink just in case I missed her meaning.
“I don’t know if it would be harder than it already is, but, yeah, I’d go, because then it wouldn’t be just my name I’d be trying to protect, it would be yours, too.”
“That’s what it’s about? Protecting your fair name? Honestly, McKenzie, when did you become Arthur of Camelot?”
“Nina—”
“Actually, you could be Arthur, or at least one of his knights, righting wrongs with a singing sword you pulled from a stone.”
“Excalibur is the sword Arthur pulled from the stone. The Singing Sword is different. It belonged to Prince Valiant.”
Nina glared at me as if she’d suddenly discovered that I was the dumbest human being alive.
“I just thought you ought to know,” I said.
“What if I asked you not to sally forth?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if I asked you to stay here?”
“Are you asking?”
“I said if.”
“If you asked, I would stay.”
“You would?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Are you asking?”
“No.”
“You can if you want.”
“No. I knew who you were and what you did when we met. I don’t have the right to ask you to change. If I don’t like it, I can always leave, can’t I?”
“I would if you asked—change, I mean.”
“Oh, McKenzie. Don’t start making promises that you can’t keep.”
“I love you.”
