Mary, Mary

Museum, huh?” I asked.
    She nodded. “Absotootly!”
    Jannie had drawn Saturday afternoon in our little lottery. Tonight was mine, Sunday day was Nana’s, and Sunday night was Damon’s time to howl. The Cross Family Weekend was all mapped out, and it was already under way.
    We spent the afternoon learning about ninja, cloak-and-dagger, and shadow spies, a construct I must have missed in my classes at Quantico. The kids tested their powers of observation in the School for Spies, and even I was impressed with some of the future-world props and models they had in the 21st Century section.
    Since dinner was my choice, I decided to introduce everyone to Ethiopian food. Jannie and Damon did fairly well with some of the more exotic tastes—except for the
kitfo,
essentially steak tartare. Still, they liked eating with their fingers, which Nana called “real down-home cooking.”
    When Jannie and Nana went off to the ladies’ room, Damon turned to me. “You know, you could have invited Doctor Coles. If you wanted,” he said, then shrugged.
    I was touched by the man-to-manness of Damon’s remark. I’d even say it was adorable, except that he’d hate it if I saw it that way. “Thanks, Day,” I said, playing it straight. “Kayla and I are having dinner on Tuesday. I appreciate the thought.”
    “She’s a good lady. Everybody thinks so. You need somebody, you know.”
    “Yeah, I know.”
    “And she’s the only person I’ve ever seen who can make Nana do stuff she doesn’t want to.”
    I laughed, liking that he had noticed so much about Kayla, and his observations were mostly sharp and true.
    “What’s so funny?” Nana asked, suddenly at the table again. “What did I miss?”
    “What is it?” Jannie asked, demanded actually. “I want to know what’s going on. Was it about the Spy Museum? You two mocking me? I will not be mocked.”
    “Guys’ privilege,” Damon said.
    “I bet it was about Doctor Coles.” Jannie’s voice turned to a squeak as her instincts landed her in exactly the right place. “We like her, Daddy,” she said, when I had neither confirmed nor denied her guess.
    “Yeah, but you like everyone.”
    “Guess where I got that from?”
    “We need to have her over for dinner,” Nana piped up.
    “Just not Tuesday,” Damon told her.
    Jannie grinned, and her eyes got wide. “Yeah. Tuesday night is date night. Right, Daddy? Am I right?”

Chapter 102
    TUESDAY NIGHT WAS A DATE NIGHT with Kayla Coles.
    And then so was Thursday.
    At a little past 1:00 in the morning, I was sitting with Kayla on her front porch. We’d been out there talking for at least a couple of hours. Kayla had just recruited me to do some work for the Children’s Defense Fund in D.C. She used statistics to make her points—just like Nana did: forty million uninsured in America, a new baby born uninsured every minute of every day. Sure I would help—whatever I could do. Even if the circumstances hadn’t been what they were.
    “What are you doing Saturday?” she asked. Just the question, in her sweet voice, made me smile. “This
isn’t
about the Children’s Defense Fund by the way.”
    “I was hoping you’d come over for one of Nana’s home-cooked meals,” I said.
    “Don’t you need to ask Nana?”
    I laughed. “It was her idea. Or one of the kids. But Nana’s definitely part of the conspiracy. She might even be the ringleader of the gang.”
    If the universe wanted me to stop dating, its message was getting garbled. All day Saturday, I was a little nervous about Kayla coming over, though. This meant something, didn’t it? Bringing her home—under these circumstances.
    “You look
good,
Daddy,” Jannie said from the door to my room.
    I had just rejected a shirt onto the bed and pulled on a black V-neck sweater, which I had to admit looked pretty good. It was a little embarrassing to be caught in the act of preening, though. Jannie invited herself in, flopped down, and watched while I finished up.
    “What’s going on?” Damon wandered in next and sat beside Jannie on the bed.
    “Anybody ever hear of privacy around here?”
    “He’s getting all handsome for Doctor Kayla. All duded-up and such. I like him in black.”
    My back was to them now, and they spoke as if I weren’t there, their voices just a little stagy.
    “Think he’s nervous?”
    “Mm-hm. Probably.”
    “You think he’ll spill something on himself during dinner?”
    “Definitely.”
    I turned on them with a roar and