A thousand memories flood my mind, but before I can voice a single one, Mom plants a kiss on each of our cheeks and glides from the room.

Jenny looks at me and shakes her head. “All this going on, and you know the last thing Mom told me she was worried about?”

“What?”

“You falling for Serenity.”

“God. She started in on me last night with that. And then she walked in on us.”

Jenny raises her eyebrows. “In flagrante delicto, I heard?”

“She told you?”

“Mm-hm. Today, when we went to her house to pick up her ‘things.’”

“Xanax?” I ask.

“Among other goodies. Can you blame her? Living in a motel beside a federal prison for months? That’s not what she signed on for.”

“No. But . . . it still disappoints me a little. I’m not being judgmental. I’ve just never seen a crisis she couldn’t handle sober. You know?”

Jenny shrugs. “We all have a breaking point.” She stands and rinses her ice cream bowl in the sink. “So . . . ?”

“So what?” I ask.

“You and Serenity?”

“Oh, hell. That’s temporary. We just clicked. I hadn’t touched a woman since Caitlin, and— I don’t know.”

“Sure you do.”

“Well . . . she seemed to need me as well. And she doesn’t play games, you know? She’s straightforward, and I needed that. I don’t think it’ll last beyond this week. She’s not going to move here and become Annie’s stepmother. And I’m sure as hell not moving to Atlanta.”

“Mom will be relieved to hear it.”

“Oh, I know. She was practically pushing me into Mia’s arms as an alternative.”

For the first time in a long while, Jenny laughs.

“I’ll tell you something, though,” I say seriously. “When Mom walked in on us doing it, she looked like she’d seen death itself.”

Jenny stares back at me, her eyes troubled. “The ghost of Christmas past, maybe?”

“I imagine so. I hate that I hurt her in any way.”

“You get to live your own life, Penn. But deep down, I think you want Ward and June Cleaver back. I probably do, too.”

I look at my watch. “Enough of this. Let’s get to bed.”

After Jenny and I part, I speed-dial Doris Avery on my way back to the basement.

“Hello, Penn,” she says in a sleepy voice, but then I hear her exhale what is almost certainly cigarette smoke. “Do you need Quentin?”

“I do.”

“He’s right here.”

“Last call,” Quentin says. “I’ve got to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

“Speak for yourself. Doris just rubbed my neck, and I’m nearly out. You hear anything more from Kaiser?”

“The FBI supercomputers are churning away. I feel like I’m being forced to lie still while termites devour the walls of our house.”