“No, you didn’t. You were with me all the way. You’re beautiful.” He ran his hands through her hair, spreading it out on his pillow. “I’m going to want more of you.”

“Ooooh, just the mention...” She could feel her insides tighten at the mere suggestion and she was game for more.

And he hummed his agreement.

* * *

Dinner was very late and the vegetables had lost their crispness in the warm oven. “I’ll have to try to impress you with my cooking another time,” Blake said.

“I think I was the one who said dinner could wait, but I admit, I wasn’t thinking about the food at all.”

“I approve,” he said, reaching out and stroking her cheek with a knuckle. He couldn’t stop touching her, couldn’t allow very much space between them.

He had offered her a robe but she asked for a soft, roomy T-shirt. She sat, quite comfortably, at the table with one slim leg bent up at the knee, her foot on the chair. It gave him enormous pleasure that she was so at ease, both with him and in his house.

They had made love twice and he hoped there would be at least one more time. “Stay with me tonight,” he said.

“All night?” she asked.

“Please. There won’t be very many nights that’s possible.”

“What if we don’t sleep well together?”

“I’m not worried about that at all. I’m a little worried we won’t sleep at all because we’re drugged with sex.” He felt a shiver run through him. She was amazing. Unexpectedly erotic and free. “I admit, I hadn’t expected you to trust me enough to...”

“I completely lost control,” she said, briefly glancing away.

He touched her hand. “Don’t be shy with me,” he said. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’re a dream come true.”

“A dream come true in the sack?” she teased.

“There, too.”

And soon they were back in bed, making love again, more slowly this time, experimenting a little, trying a little variety, finding the fit always perfect, the satisfaction impossibly great.

And then he held her in his arms and whispered to her, telling her he had never expected to meet someone like her, to find a woman he couldn’t imagine ever being parted from at this stage in his life. “Tell me a little more about your life before Charlie.”

“Trust is not easy for me,” she said. “Like you, I had been abandoned. It makes no sense—my mother didn’t throw me away—she was very sick, and I was told she died. Many Vietnamese didn’t make it out of the boat lift alive. Many suffered severe illness as refugees. My mother was very, very young when I was born. It was never spoken of but it suggests she wasn’t a willing partner when I came along. Somewhere—the refugee camp, here in the US when she was living hand to mouth with other refugees—at some time she became pregnant and was only fifteen when I was born.”

It was hard for Blake to imagine. Lin Su was so small. A fifteen-year-old girl, so tiny, giving birth?

“My mother was sent to the US because her father was an American serviceman. I don’t know if she ever found him. I think not. But my adoptive parents had very few facts about my family ties. They scooped me up, three years old, dressed me like an American girl doll and raised me in a small mansion. And their friends always said, ‘Isn’t she cute?’ until I was eighteen. I don’t believe I was a beloved daughter. By the time I was ten I knew I was their project.”

“That would have been lonely,” he said.

“It was lonely, but I wasn’t sure how to cope. When I was eighteen and pregnant, nowhere to go, I went to a manicure shop owned by a Vietnamese family. They trained me, though I had to take classes and be licensed, but they gave me a way to make money. There were other immigrants who would share space. A little bit of the language came back to me and I was very grateful for them.” She turned and looked up at him. “But I didn’t belong there, either. If I were ever to look for my people, I wouldn’t know where to start.

“So there,” she said. “Now you know why I am stubborn and difficult. The only place I feel safe is on my own, with my son.”

“Does Charlie know all this? Your personal story? How complicated your life really was?”

“He knows I am adopted, that I was unmarried when he was born, that I am estranged from my adoptive family. That’s more than enough to weigh on a young boy’s mind.”

“I think he should know all about your journey. So he understands why you are who you are. So he doesn’t have questions. So he never feels that he doesn’t belong.”

“He belongs to me!” she said sternly. “I don’t want him to carry my burdens, too.”

“As long as you understand that secrets separate people from one another. Not telling important things creates distance.”

“I tell all the important things,” she said.

“I want you to feel safe with me,” he said.

“I’ve told you more than anyone,” she said. “I must feel safe with you or I couldn’t be here with you like this.”

Seventeen

The leaves continued to color and then quickly fall in the cold rain on the coast of Oregon. Through this brisk and then wet autumn, several couples seemed to be thriving. Blossoming. Lin Su and Blake were spending as much time together as they could wrestle, and it wasn’t easy. Many evenings Blake would join Winnie’s household for dinner just to be near Lin Su and Charlie. On those nights Lin Su wasn’t needed for the dinner and bedtime rituals, he would cook for Lin Su and Charlie. Or he might take them out to dinner. Or, less often, Charlie was content at home in the loft with his laptop, schoolwork and TV while Blake stole Lin Su away for a little time together.

They were the talk of the town. She was glowing in her newfound role as Blake’s girlfriend. And Blake seemed to be constantly smiling.

Other couples were also showing great happiness. Grace and Troy, for one. Grace now had dependable help in the flower shop and was slacking off on her workload a little bit, getting ready to have a baby girl. She always knew it would be a girl, and though Troy insisted it would be a son, he was thrilled.

Peyton was seen walking the town’s main street or across the beach whenever she could, determined to keep her weight under control so she could regain her figure. Her mother kept shipping fattening Basque food in Styrofoam coolers overnight; it was irresistible. Scott dove in whenever a shipment came, and while Peyton tried to resist, she wasn’t doing so well. For the Grants, it would be a boy. Scott was already lobbying for another child after this one to even up the family. The next, he proclaimed, would be a girl.