Rob looked at him in shock. Then he stuck his head in the kitchen. “Trace,” he yelled. When the boy came from the kitchen, Rob said, “Man the bar. Do not serve alcohol. I’ll only be ten minutes.”

“Okay,” Trace said.

“Dakota, my office. Come on through.”

Dakota followed. Rob’s office was very small. He had to move a chair out of the way to close the door. “Sit,” Rob told Dakota.

“Why do I get a bad feeling?”

Rob didn’t answer. “Listen, I don’t know why the two of you haven’t talked about this but Sid is special. She’s a genius.”

“I don’t have a problem believing that,” Dakota said. “She must be the best programmer in the west.”

“She’s a physicist. A PhD. A Rhodes scholar. She might be writing some code but it’s far more complicated and exceptional. They’re working on quantum computing, the sort of high-speed, complex, intuitive computing that can lead to artificial intelligence. The computer they’re working on is processing and analyzing DNA. It can process millions of pieces of information in seconds. Less than seconds. She can explain this much better, not that you’ll understand it any better than I do. Molecular genetic research will change the world, save lives, wipe out disease, and they’re creating and constantly refining the quantum computer that’s doing it. She’s working with a Nobel laureate. Do they have a lot of people with her qualifications? I don’t think so. She is so important in this field it’s mind-boggling.”

Dakota gulped. “Hang on,” he said. “Let me scrape my chin off the floor.” He shook his head as if to settle the pieces in place. “Man, look at what can happen when a kid is in an accident and can’t go out and play.”

“Nah, she was born that way. She has an IQ that puts a lot of geniuses to shame.”

“Now I really have no idea where this leaves me. Us.”

“I hate to break it to you but she was this smart way before she met you. She didn’t explain all that to you?” Rob asked.

“Not the way you did,” he said.

“Let me tell you what else she is,” Rob said. “A flesh and blood woman with a huge heart and a very soft center. Even geniuses can get their hearts broken. She has a very intimidating brain but around here people just think of her as Sid the bartender and they don’t treat her like she can’t be a friend, can’t be loved. She’s fun and funny and loyal. I didn’t kill the last man who used her and dumped her but I might kill the next one.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dakota said. “I’d never hurt her.” Dakota stood. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“That should do it, I guess.”

Dakota grinned. “Damn, who knew I had such magnificent taste in women.”

“Yeah, who knew,” Rob said. But he wasn’t smiling.

* * *

Trace had been eavesdropping. Not exactly on purpose. Only for a minute. He had gone to fetch Rob because someone wanted a glass of wine with their lunch and he heard that little speech. He didn’t know all that about Sid. She’d helped him with physics but he just thought she was good at math. He hadn’t even suspected...

It had a pretty strange effect on him. Not the part about her being over-the-moon brilliant. About her being made of flesh and blood and feelings. He was pretty quiet the rest of the day. When he was done with work, he didn’t go straight home. He went to the diner. His mom was working.

“Well, hey there, Trace,” she said, smiling. “Do you want some dinner?”

“Nah, I ate something at the bar.”

“Going to play ball tonight?” she asked.

“Yeah, I might hit a few with some of the guys, if I can find anyone. So, I broke a promise.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I promised Tom I was going to talk to you about my worries about us all moving in together and I didn’t.”

“That’s okay, honey. He told me you two had talked. I thought you might get around to it eventually. We don’t want to rush you out of your comfort zone.”

“Yeah, that’s nice. I’m, like, the only one who still has a comfort zone. Sid’s off working in California, Dakota misses her, Rob really misses her—he’s working some long hours and so am I. Sierra... I don’t even want to think about Sierra...”

“She’s in a lot of pain,” Lola said. “They love that baby.”

“So I was thinking about stuff. I think it’s nice of Tom to make sure I feel okay about things. And to offer me space in his house. And I think it would make you really happy.”

“Only if you’re there, Trace. If you decide to try to live with your dad, I’m worried it would be a strain on you. And I’d just miss you too much.”

“No, I’m not going to live with him. Why would I go live with a guy who can’t even make it to one of my baseball games? You or Tom or both of you made it to almost every one this year. Look, Mom...I think I was being a little selfish. I guess we’ll all have some adjustments but you found yourself a good guy. I think he’ll take good care of you.”

“What are you saying, Trace?” she asked with a slight frown.

“I want you to be happy, Mom. Let’s do it. Let’s move in together.”

“It’s important that you be happy, too,” she said.

“Yeah, I know, Mom. I appreciate it. Pretty soon I’m going to have to stop expecting my mother to take care of me being happy all the time.”

She got that look on her face, like she was very touched and might cry. “I’ll always do everything I can to make you happy.”

“I’m going to miss our house,” he said.

“Maybe for a little while,” she said. “But I bet we have some good times at Tom’s house. Last time we all got together, you and Cole and Jackson hung out around the fire pit and it sure sounded like you were having a good time.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Mom? Did you know Sid is, like, a genius?”

Lola lifted her eyebrows. “In my mind she was if she could help you with physics. I stopped being able to help you with math years ago.”

“The things you don’t know about people, huh?”

“Who told you that?” she asked.

“Oh, I kind of overheard it, so maybe we shouldn’t spread it around.” And his cheeks took on a pink stain.

Lola looked at him slyly, smirked and said, “Gotcha.”

* * *

Sam had been gone for a week and Sierra had cried her heart out every day. The day after he left she went to Mrs. Jergens’s house with a box of toys he liked to play with and it looked like everything was working out for them. The cousin, Sandy, seemed pleasant and thoughtful. And Sam waved his arms like propellers he was so excited to see Sierra, so she held him for a while.

She wasn’t sure if seeing him and holding him made her feel better or worse. She went back two days later, bringing an offering of brownies for the women and a bag full of baby food for Sam. Again he was excited to see her and she snuggled him so close he squeaked. The house was a little messy; perhaps Sandy was having a hard time keeping up. And Sierra cried all the way home.

She went again two days later. No one answered the door and she left disappointed, so she went back the very next day. She knocked and she could hear Sam crying so she stayed at the door. She had cookies this time and a couple of new teething rings for Sam. She knocked again and again; Sam continued to cry.

She’d played this scenario in her mind but she thought she was just kidding herself, that it was never going to happen, but what was she to do if she found him hurt or neglected? She wasn’t the child welfare department. But she would call the social worker or the police, if she had to, and that would guarantee that Mrs. Jergens would never let her in the door again.

She knocked again and the door swung open. “Mrs. Jergens!” she gasped. The woman looked bloody awful and was leaning on a walker. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m having a hard day.”

“Let me help with Sam,” Sierra said, pushing her way gently past the older woman and walking into an extremely messy house. “Where’s Sandy?” Sierra asked on her way to the bedroom where Sam’s crib was kept.

“Who knows,” Mrs. Jergens said.

Sierra thought about that walker. How do you carry a baby with a walker? And if you need a walker, does that mean that without the use of it you could fall? Hurting yourself and the baby?

Sam was sitting up in his crib, crying pitifully, his face wet with tears and snot. “Oh, sweet boy, what’s wrong, huh? Come here, it’s okay, come here...” She lifted him into her arms and held him close. She kissed his neck. He didn’t smell very good. And he was wet. “Let’s get you fixed up. Are you hungry? We can fix that, too, yes, we sure can.” She cooed to Sam as she put him on the changing table—a rickety changing table—and took off his sagging, soggy diaper. “Oh, honey, that’s better. Let’s clean that up and get you comfortable.”

Sierra cleaned his bottom and put some diaper rash ointment on him. She cleaned his face with a fresh wipe, put a new dry diaper on him and a shirt, though she couldn’t find a clean one. Or maybe it was just an old, stained shirt, but she didn’t think so. With Sam on her hip, she went back to the living room. Sierra looked around—the kitchen was a mess of dirty dishes and glasses, shoes and clothing and other debris such as magazines, food wrappers, disposable diapers rolled up and taped closed, empty soda cans and all the rudiments of living scattered everywhere. Mrs. Jergens’s medication sat on the table beside the couch. Not exactly babyproof. Thank goodness Sam wasn’t walking yet.

“Mrs. Jergens, he has a diaper rash. It looks kind of bad. What’s going on? Where’s Sandy?”

“She said she needed a break, asked me for forty dollars and left.”