Rhodes’s eyes looked down in the expression of shameful worry that Ben had noted earlier. He’s not sure what the right answer is, Ben thought. He thinks I’ll be mad if he picks the wrong one. The parent in him badly wanted to tell the young man that it was all right; the scientist in him wanted to wait for the boy to decide. In the end, science won out. He waited, watching Rhodes work through the possible results of the available responses.

“Not really,” he said finally, not looking at Ben.

“Me neither,” Ben said. Rhodes looked up at him, surprise and relief in his face. “But don’t tell Dr. Patcher I said that,” said Ben. “She thinks they’re endlessly fascinating.”

Rhodes rewarded him with a smile that flashed briefly and vanished again beneath the mask of uncertainty. He’s still not sure he’s not in trouble, thought Ben. “What do you know about nudibranchs?” he asked.

Rhodes shrugged in the ubiquitous teenage response. “They’re snails, right?” he said.

“They’re slugs,” Ben corrected him. “Would you like to help us study them?”

Again came the shrug. “I guess so,” said Rhodes. “What would I be doing?”

“Can you dive?” asked Ben.

This time Rhodes nodded. “I was certified two years ago,” he said.

“Excellent,” said Ben. “Then you can come on dives with us. Also, you’ll help Angela and me in the lab. Does that sound all right with you?”

“Sure,” Rhodes said, his voice devoid of excitement.

“Or you can stay with Dr. Patcher and her salps,” said Ben, determined to get more from the boy than simple agreement.

“I’ll take the nudibranchs,” said Rhodes quickly.

“Good,” Ben said. “Why don’t you go see what Angela is doing. Tell her you need to fill out the research diving forms.”

Rhodes stood up. As he walked to the door, Ben stopped him with a question. “Rhodes, why are you here?”

Rhodes turned. “Honestly?” he said.

Ben nodded, and Rhodes bit his lip. “It was either this or baseball camp,” he said. “And I suck at baseball.”

Ben made a mental note to find out who Rhodes’s father was and how much he’d donated to the program. But he appreciated the boy’s honesty. “We’re happy to have you,” he said.

Alone again, his thoughts returned to Caddie. Like Rhodes, she was with him because the alternative was worse. So why couldn’t he talk to her the way he’d just talked to Rhodes? Why had he been able to understand what the young man needed when he couldn’t even begin to understand what his daughter needed?

Answering that question, if it even could be answered, would have to wait. At the moment he had more pressing concerns. Like what to serve for dinner, he thought, and wondered how hard it would be to roast a chicken.

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 23