“Hmmmm, weird.” He nodded, smiling, and it didn’t go with the puzzled noise he’d made. Owen shifted a half step to his left, just a widening of his stance more than anything, but it put him more directly in line with the gap of what she and her mother couldn’t fill of the doorway. Carly tracked his eyes across the foyer wall and up to the motion sensor that was also the camera. He swept a fast look across the hall and back, catching again on the camera and then again on the metal curlicues that John had bought for the redecorating project.

He’d seen the video, and without a good reason, it pissed Carly off. “He’s really not here.”

Owen swiveled his big head on his bull neck down to meet Carly’s looking up at him. She let her eyebrows off the chain just a little, a small, real flash of what she’d played insincerely on John. It was right there for her to use, warm in her cheeks, primed and ready. “I mean, if that’s what you’re actually looking for.”

Her mother laughed a little, unsure. “Carly! But, nope, he’s not here. Sorry. Do you want me to get him on the phone or . . . ?”

“It’s fine. I’ll just call him later. No problem. I’ll catch up with him, I’m sure.” He turned for his car. “Sorry to bother everyone, but nice to meet you.”

“No problem,” her mother called back. “And nice car.”

“Thanks. It is,” he said from the driver’s door. “And the mechanic’s bills never let me forget how nice.”

They laughed to each other, everyone ending on even ground. Because that’s what you do when you’re grown up and in charge of the everyday world and everyone pretends that everyone else is the same amount of strong, but only when no one wants or needs anything at the moment. Carly, in her own contribution to the dance, slammed the door over the end of it.

“You okay?” Her mother reached for her.

“Uh-huh.” Carly slipped past her, getting out of reach with just a glancing arm rub.

Owen and his fancy car hadn’t been gone five minutes before John came screeching into the driveway.

Carly and her mother converged in the foyer at the sound of too-fast tires on smooth concrete. The door swung wide. John was sweating. It was warm outside, but not that hot.

“Hi!” said her mother with the questions already right there in the greeting, stacking up at the slightly electrocuted look of him. “You okay?”

Carly was beginning to think that was the question of the day. Maybe of the week.

John glanced around and pulled himself together like a costume change in front of their eyes. “Yeah. You okay?”

“Yeah,” her mother said. “But you just missed your friend Owen. He was here looking for you.”