“Did you ever get to see it? After the tragically aborted early attempt?”
Two attempts. The school-trip rout at Christiansburg she meant. I’d never told her much about the Richmond-Mouse debacle. I finished my Camel and ground out the butt. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay, that’s a no. But it’s still out there. Just so you know.”
“Do tell?”
“Yessiree Bob. You can take that one to the bank.”
“I’ll have to take your word on that. Given the college degree.”
For a minute the sun came out, while it was snowing. People say that means the devil is beating his wife. Then the snow stopped, which I took to mean she was leaving the bastard. I asked Angus what she and Coach were doing for Christmas.
She gave me a funny look, chin pulled back. “What Christmas. That was all your doing.”
“But you seemed so into it. Am I wrong?”
“No. But we never knew how to do it before you came, and the magic went away again after you moved out. The magic was all you, Demon.”
We were quiet for a minute. I warmed myself on a little bonfire of remembered ridiculousness, and hoped she was doing the same. “I still have that ship. In the bottle. Everything else I’ve ever owned, I’ve lost by now or thrown out. But I kept that. You thought I was going places. We just didn’t see the bottle part coming.”
She opened her mouth, then shut it. Opened her empty right hand and looked at it, like something was in there. Then put it behind her back. “I’m sorry you and Annie didn’t get your book thing put together,” she said.
“I’ll get it figured out. And I’m sure she’ll get back to me eventually. I mean, how long can one baby last?”
She laughed. But something was winding down here.
“We could give it another go,” I said. “Christmas. What do you want?”
“A big fat check for this house.”
“You know my price range. No real improvement there, sadly. I might have notched up a little on the naughty-nice scale, though.”
She leveled me with a stare that stirred something up I couldn’t name. Or was scared to admit to. “Okay. I have a present for you,” she said. “It’s not wrapped. I just thought of it.”
“Okay. Where is it?”
“Um. Five hundred miles from here. Directly adjacent to a bunch of sand.”
I laughed. “Thanks.”
“I’m serious. I’m giving you the ocean.”
“It’s winter.”
“You know what? They don’t roll it up and put it away. It’s just sitting there. Take it or leave it, home skillet. One goddamn Atlantic Ocean on offer.”
“Can I get that to go?”
She pulled down the earflaps of her hat with both hands, like she might otherwise levitate, and got up in my face. As nearly as she could, being a foot shorter, reaching up at me with the big gray eyes: Not kidding. She said she had the week off work, due to testing schedule or something. She asked if I had a deadline on getting back to Knoxville. I didn’t.
“So what do you say, Demon. Time to say grace and blow this dump?”
I followed her back to Coach’s apartment so she could grab what she needed. We took the Beretta, as the slightly less risky option. She said that sea-blue car was asking for it, and she was a good sport about it smelling like an ashtray. We kept the windows down as far as Gate City, which was damn airish in that weather, but by the time we got on the interstate it was fine to roll them up. And I was still yet shivering for some reason, ready to jump out of my skin. Angus was a couple of steps out ahead of me, as she always and ever would be. So happy. Utterly chill.
She rifled through her bag of car snacks. Opened a bag of M&Ms and threw one that bounced off my face. I called a traveling penalty. She picked it up off the floor and popped it in my mouth. “So, to get this straight, as far as your motives. You’re not in it for the suntan, right?”
I told her I was not. Just wanted to look at that big drink of water.
“Good,” she said. “Because it’s going to be cold. But there are lots of advantages to going in winter.” She named them: No crowds. No strutting peacocks in Speedos. We’d have the place to ourselves. Motels would be half price. This was Angus trusting the ride, we were staying in a motel. I was extremely unclear about where we were headed. Was she still my sister?
She smacked her forehead. “Oh my God. Oysters.”
“What about them.”
“You can only eat them in winter! June, July, August, they’re poison. You have to wait till the months that have the letter R.”
This sounded highly doubtful. “Why is that?”
“Believe it or not, with my amazingly advanced degree, I don’t know. It’s one of these things you pick up. I went to New Orleans a few times with friends.”
There he was, the friend. “And you’re saying it’s worth the wait? Because I’m saying Mrs. Peggot used to cook them in soup at Christmas, and I was not a fan.”
“This is nothing like that. At the beach they’re fresh. You crack them open and drink them right off the shell. Raw. Technically I guess still alive.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“You won’t believe how good. It’s like kissing the ocean. Demon.” She leaned forward so I could see her face, and drilled those bad-girl eyes into me with a look that threatened my perfect driving record. “And it’s kissing you back.”
