Where the Forest Meets the Stars(56)

“I guess the storm brought you home early,” he said.
Jo nodded. “We were at Summers Creek when we first saw it.”
“No wonder you came back.”
“Have you eaten?” she asked.
“I was just making dinner, but I can come over after.”
“That sounds good. Do you like grilled mahi? I’m making it for Ursa to try tonight.”
“I love grilled mahi.”
“Is your mom in the kitchen?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I want to say hello.”
“You don’t have to,” he said, blocking the door with his body.
She pushed past him and walked into the house. His mother was seated at the kitchen table, and she smiled when she saw Jo. “How are you, Katherine?” Jo said.
“Just fine,” she said. She studied Jo’s field clothes and messy hair. “How is your bird research coming along?”
“Good. Did Gabe tell you he came out with me one day? He even found a nest.”
“Really!” she said, looking at Gabe.
Gabe made an evasive move when Jo reached for him, but she captured him around the waist before he got away.
Katherine’s bright-blue eyes sharpened.
“Can I borrow your son this evening?” Jo asked. “I’ve invited him over for dinner.”
“Oh . . . yes . . . that would be all right,” she said.
Jo kissed Gabe’s bearded cheek. “Can you be there around six?”
“Sure,” he said tensely, very aware that his mother was scrutinizing Jo’s intimate gestures. When Jo let him go, he bolted to the stove and busied himself with a simmering pot.
“I have another request,” Jo said, “and I hope it doesn’t sound too pushy.”
Gabe turned around, his expression panicked.
“Gabe told me you write poetry . . .”
“Now, why would you go and do that?” she said to Gabe.
“I’d love to read it,” Jo said. “Do you have copies of your two books I could borrow?”
The tremble in Katherine’s hands worsened, as if by her agitation. “I think he’s made it sound better than it is.”
“As a biologist, I’ll be completely nonjudgmental. I just like the idea of reading poetry that has its roots in this place. Did you ever write about the nature of Southern Illinois?”
“I did,” she said. “There are even a few birds in my poems. One is about a nest I found.”
“What kind?”
“It was a yellow-breasted chat.”
“I love chats. I found a nest last month.”
“Well, that’s something, isn’t it?” She said to Gabe, “You know where the extras are. Get her one of each.”
After he left the room, Katherine asked, “Whatever happened to that little girl who used to come around?”
“She still comes and goes,” Jo said.
Gabe returned and handed Jo two softcover books, one titled Creature Hush , the other Hope’s Ghost . He watched Jo to see how she reacted to the second title. “Thanks,” she said.
“You can keep them,” Katherine said. “No one wants them, least of all me.”
“Well, we’re always our own worst critic, I guess. I’d better let you get back to dinner before something burns. Have a nice night, Katherine.”
“You too,” she said.
Gabe walked her to the door. “I know what you’re doing, you sneak,” he said once they got outside.
“What?”
“You’re bringing her to your corner.”
“If it’s a boxing ring, who are the two fighters?”
He pondered. “You know, I’m not sure—because you’re as devious as she is.”
“Why do men often call smart women devious ?”
“Okay, you’re as smart as her.”
She kissed him. “Save that sexy talk for later.”


23

Gabe brought leftover cauliflower in cheese sauce for dinner.
“Not yuckyflower!” Ursa said. “Jo made me eat it last night!”
“This has gooey cheese on it,” he said, “and gooey cheese makes anything, even dirt, taste delicious.”
“Can I eat dirt instead?”
“I love women with razor-sharp wit,” he said. “Though I’m badly outnumbered by them lately.” He put the bowl of cauliflower on the kitchen table. “How can I help?”
“You’ve already cooked a whole dinner,” Jo said. “You’ll go outside into the roaring heat—greatly increased by the fire—and enjoy a cold beer and hors d’oeuvre with Ursa. Except Ursa can’t have a beer.” She handed a plate of crackers topped with cheddar cheese to Ursa.
“I made these,” Ursa said.
“They look great,” he said.
Jo took a beer out of the refrigerator, opened it, and placed it in his hand. “Go outside. I’ll start grilling in a few minutes.”
“Jo is making me eat something called mahi-mahi ,” Ursa said as they went out the back door.
“I’ve heard of that—I think it’s giant caterpillars,” he said, closing the door behind them.
Jo seasoned melted butter and brought it outside with the fish and vegetable skewers. She laid the skewers over the fire first. When they were nearly done cooking, she put on the mahi fillets, basting them with butter as they grilled. Despite the heat, they ate outside, sitting in the frayed lawn chairs that probably dated back to the Kinneys’ occupation of the house.
“I read a few of your mother’s poems after I showered,” Jo said as they finished eating.