“How ’bout just till the eye goes over, and we see what the surge is going to do.”

“No. Really. I can’t.”

“C’mon! I feel you’re not giving this book a serious try. Or maybe I have something you’d like better.” At last he picked up on the dread widening my eyes. “Hey. What’s up?”

My legs had me backing away before I knew how freaked I was.

“Oh, hold on, hold on!” He slapped his forehead. “Jeez, I’m an idiot. I’m going on and on, motormouth Daniel, and you’re thinking I meant . . . y’know, something other than reading.” He stilled, arms awkward at his sides. “Is that it?”

“Sorry.” I waited for anger or mockery, like I got even from guys who meant no harm.

“No, my fault. Wasn’t paying attention. I get carried away trying to get people to read. Can’t seem to help it. It’s a character flaw.”

“Not yours. Mine. I can’t . . . ever since Abel. Something . . .” I shook my head.

He waited, like he knew there was more, had to be, because what I’d said made no sense. A bunch of dots without the connections. But I couldn’t take him any further. I stared at my feet.

“Something . . . ?”

“Bad.” I choked it out. “Something bad. That I can’t remember.”

“Ah.”

I searched his face. For what? Pity? Compassion? Why should he have any to spare? He’d heard all the stories, too. Bad things happened to everyone in the new normal. Anyhow, what the hell was I doing, bleating my private anguish to a more-or-less stranger, just because he was easy to talk to? Where was all my hard-won protective covering?

But Daniel’s gaze had turned dark again. “Well. That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“Still . . .” He chewed his lip. “You oughtn’t go out in that storm.”

“Got to. They’ll be expecting me home.”

“How ’bout this? Hold out the book. Yeah, like that. Don’t laugh, now.” He flattened his left palm on the wrapping, raised the other beside his ear. “I, Daniel Nathan, a.k.a. the Book Dude, do solemnly swear never to take unwelcome advantage of or cause harm to Glimmer of Den Unca Joe, or to any other female of my acquaintance.” He dropped his hands and stood back, like he might take a little bow. “That make you feel any better?”

He looked so silly, so totally undignified, I had to admire his willingness to go there. “If anything could.”

“Now, if only you’ll believe me . . .”

“I’ll work on it.” I slid the book into my gut wallet and zipped it up tight.

“I really wish . . .”

“And I really am. Working on it.”

“Okay. But if you get hurt, I’ll feel responsible. You’d have been home by now.”

“My choice to show up when I did. Okay, I’m outa here.”

“If you must.” He shrugged uneasily. “Safe home.”

“You, too.”