The Lucky One(31)

“Probably. Now that he’s smelled you.”

“How could he learn it so fast?”

“He just does. He’s used to learning things quickly.”

Zeus sidled closer and licked Ben’s face, then retreated, his gaze flickering from Ben to the stick and back again.

Thibault pointed to the stick. “He wants you to throw it. That’s his way of asking.”

Ben grabbed the stick and seemed to debate his next move. “Can I throw it in the water?”

“He’d love that.”

Ben heaved it into the slow-moving creek. Zeus bounded into the water and began to paddle. He retrieved the stick, stopped a few feet from Ben to shake off, then got close and dropped the stick again.

“I trained him to shake off before he gets too close. I don’t like getting wet,” Thibault said.

“That’s cool.”

Thibault smiled as Ben threw the stick again.

“What else can he do?” Ben asked over his shoulder.

“Lots of things. Like . . . he’s great at playing hide-and-go-seek. If you hide, he’ll find you.”

“Can we do that sometime?”

“Anytime you want.”

“Awesome. Is he an attack dog, too?”

“Yes. But mostly he’s friendly.”

Finishing the rest of his lunch, Thibault watched as Ben continued to throw the stick. On the last throw, while Zeus retrieved it, he didn’t trot toward Ben. Instead, he walked off to the side and lay down. Holding one paw over the stick, he began to gnaw.

“That means he’s done,” Thibault said. “You’ve got a good arm, by the way. Do you play baseball?”

“Last year. But I don’t know if I’ll play this year. I want to learn how to play the violin.”

“I played the violin as a kid,” Thibault remarked.

“Really?” Ben’s face registered surprise.

“Piano, too. Eight years.”

Off to the side, Zeus raised his head from the stick, becoming alert. A moment later, Thibault heard the sound of someone coming up the path as Elizabeth’s voice floated through the trees.

“Ben?”

“Over here, Mom!” Ben shouted.

Thibault raised his palm toward Zeus. “It’s okay.”

“There you are,” she said, stepping into view. “What are you doing out here?”

Her friendly expression froze as soon as she spotted Thibault, and he could plainly read the question in her eyes: Why is my son in the woods with a man I barely know? Thibault felt no need to defend himself. He’d done nothing wrong. Instead, he nodded a greeting.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” she said, her tone cautious. By that time, Ben was already running toward her.

“You should see what his dog can do, Mom! He’s supersmart. Even smarter than Oliver was.”

“That’s great.” She put an arm around him. “You ready to come inside? I have lunch on the table.”

“He knows me and everything. . . .”

“Who?”

“The dog. Zeus. He knows my name.”

She turned her gaze to Thibault. “Does he?”

Thibault nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well . . . good.”

“Guess what? He played the violin.”

“Zeus?”

“No, Mom. Mr. Thibault did. As a kid. He played the violin.”

“Really?” She seemed startled by that.

Thibault nodded. “My mom was kind of a music fanatic. She wanted me to master Shostakovich, but I wasn’t that gifted. I could play a decent Mendelssohn, though.”

Her smile was forced. “I see.”

Despite her apparent discomfort, Thibault laughed.

“What?” she asked, obviously remembering their earlier encounter as well.

“Nothing.”

“What’s wrong, Mom?”

“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just that you should have told me where you were going.”

“I come out here all the time.”

“I know,” she said, “but next time, let me know, okay?”

So I can keep an eye on you, she didn’t say. So I know you’re safe. Again, Thibault understood the message, even if Ben didn’t.

“I should probably head back to the office,” he said, rising from the branch. He collected the remains of his lunch. “I want to check the mastiff’s water. He was hot, and I’m sure he finished his bowl. See you later, Ben. You too.” He turned. “Zeus! Let’s go.”

Zeus sprang from his spot and went to Thibault’s side; a moment later, they stood at the head of the footpath.

“Bye, Mr. Thibault,” Ben called.

Thibault turned around, walking backward. “Nice talking to you, Ben. And by the way, it’s not Mr. Thibault. Just Thibault.”

With that, he turned back around, feeling the weight of Elizabeth’s gaze on him until he vanished from sight.





9

Clayton

That evening, Keith Clayton lay on the bed smoking a cigarette, kind of glad that Nikki was in the shower. He liked the way she looked after a shower, with her hair wet and wild. The image kept him from dwelling on the fact that he would rather she grab her things and go on home.