We’ve decided to walk all the way to Atlantic Avenue Beach. It’s that kind of morning, and there’s nowhere else we need to be except here, and nowhere else we want to be.
“They tell me at the Meier Clinic that they are, quote, guardedly optimistic, end quote,” I say. “That would be wildly optimistic anywhere else.”
I take a turn throwing the ball, mostly to show Jimmy I still have the arm, after everything.
“But,” I add, “they plan to keep her there for a couple more weeks, at least.”
“Which keeps her from rushing back into Rob Jacobson’s arms for a couple more weeks,” Jimmy says.
“She will do that when she does come back over my extremely healthy body,” I say.
“Have you talked to him yet?” Jimmy asks.
“He keeps trying,” I say. “And I keepnottaking his calls.”
“Has he tried to stop by?”
I smile at Jimmy. “He’s not an idiot. He knows I’m still armed.”
We stop now and stare out at the water, calm on thismorning and beautiful and endless. Rip plops down, panting, in the sand.
“You got any immediate plans,” Jimmy asks, “other than dinner with your boyfriend tonight?”
“A lot of nothing,” I say, “followed by more nothing.”
“I hate to point this out,” he says, “but doing nothing has never been one of your strong suits.”
He is wearing his Yankees cap, just without the camera sewn into the front today.
“Even an old dog can learn new tricks,” I say. “Isn’t that right, Rip?”
We start walking back to the car.
“There isonething I’m thinking about doing,” I tell Jimmy. “If you can keep a secret.”
“Always.”
“I might just up and ask Ben to marry me,” I say.
“For real?”
We’ve stopped again before heading up to the parking lot.
“I’m not there yet,” I tell him. “But feel like I might be getting there.”
Jimmy puts his arms around me and pulls me tight to him.
“Can I be maid of honor?” he asks.
When we get back to the house, Jimmy comes in for one fast cup of coffee before he heads back home.
I take my own coffee mug with me out to the back patio and find myself standing in front of my hummingbird feeder, already thinking about buying a new one for next spring, maybe one with a camera attached to it.
I am still putting sugar water in it, even though the birds are gone until then.
I start to turn and head back into the house when I see a flash of color out of the corner of my eye.
The lone hummingbird is back.
