Squid followed Mat into the bathroom and plopped on the tile near the tub. Button shrieked and sent up a splash to welcome him. The dog regarded her balefully, then mustered the energy to crawl beneath the sink where the undertow wouldn’t get him.

“That’s the most pathetic excuse for a dog I’ve ever seen.”

“On the positive side, I made Lucy take him outside and give him a bath, so at least he doesn’t smell anymore. And he certainly has a healthy appetite.”

“Three different neighbors came over to introduce themselves while I was moving the motor home into the driveway. It’s a good thing you’re keeping that damn padding on.”

“People are naturally friendly in the Midwest.”

“Too friendly.” He picked up the rag Lucy’d used to scrub the tub and began swabbing the water Button had splashed on the floor. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had more than enough of driving around in that motor home, so I reserved a rental car. We can pick it up tomorrow morning.”

She wanted to ask him what he was going to do about the girls, but Button had lost interest in her bath, and she wanted to get her settled first. “I’ll finish up here.”

While Mat got Button’s bottle ready, Nealy dried her off and dressed her in a clean pair of cotton pajamas. Then she carried both Button and the bottle out to the motor home to turn over to Lucy.

When she returned, she found Mat sitting on the back step with a cup of coffee and Squid curled at his feet. She eased down next to him and gazed at the quiet backyard. Fireflies flickered above the peony bushes, and the sweet scent of honeysuckle drifted in the air. Through the back window of a neighbor’s house, she caught the glow of a television set. She wanted to drink it all in so she’d never forget this perfect summer night in the heartland.

Mat took a sip of coffee. “I called Sandy’s lawyer earlier. I told him where the girls were and what had happened. As you might expect, Pennsylvania Child Services isn’t too happy with me.”

“You’re going to take the girls back.” She’d meant to ask a question, but it came out as a statement.

“Of course. As soon as the bloodwork’s taken care of.”

“You’re having the paternity tests done here?”

“There’s a lab in Davenport. I don’t want to deal with all the red tape waiting for me in Pennsylvania.”

“So you’ll have the tests done, and then you’ll be able to wash your hands of them,” she snapped.

“That’s not fair.”

She sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”