“Well, that’s too bad. Maybe we’ll find out you can cook. Louisiana people can cook like nobody’s business.”

“I’m not much use in the kitchen, but I’m pretty good with a grill or a pit. Does that count?”

“I’m not sure. We’ll have to make that determination somehow. I expect you’ll need skill with crustaceans to be considered legit.” Aunt Gert pointed out to sea. “Well, would you look at that!”

What an amazing sight it was. As they’d talked past sunset and let the sky darken, the moon had risen over the water and was casting its glow over the placid sea. After daybreak the Atlantic would awaken with a thunderous roil of salty spray, but for now, it was like dark glass reflecting moonbeams back into the sky.

“You just missed the full. You know what the Indians called the full moon in May?” she asked.

“No, ma’am.”

“The Flower Moon—because it appeared the same time all the flowers were in bloom.”

In the shimmering silver light, Peyton could picture a single pink rose next to an emerald-green ball gown. And he could only imagine what it would feel like to sit here on the cool sand some balmy evening and hold a beautiful girl with auburn hair and skin like ice cream.

twelve

Sometime during the night, it had begun to rain, a steady downpour pelting the tin roof of Aunt Gert’s bungalow and lightly misting Peyton’s face. The temperature dropped a few more degrees, sending a brisk, cool breeze across the screened porch. Peyton could hear distant thunder and the sigh of palm trees rustling in the wind. Frogs were singing on the river. He could listen to those sounds forever.

When he and Aunt Gert had come home from the marina, she told him to put his things in her spare bedroom but offered him the option of her sleeping porch if he preferred it. The deep screened porch ran all the way across the back of the bungalow, which was painted purple with white trim. In the center of the porch were two twin beds made of cypress, just like the floors throughout the house. They were positioned end to end, running parallel to the back wall of the house to allow as much shelter from the elements as possible, but the thunderstorm that was rolling in now blew the rain farther into the porch than usual.

Peyton didn’t care. Pulling the covers higher to keep the mist off his face, he listened to the sounds of rain and thunder as the wind rustled the palms and thought of another rainy night back in March. He had invited Lisa to a St. Patrick’s Day concert in Forsyth Park. They caught the bus downtown and danced in front of the bandstand. Peyton knew he should insist that they leave when the early evening breeze gusted and he could see lightning off in the distance. But he couldn’t bring himself to end a night out with Lisa. By the time thunder rumbled and they felt the first drops of rain, it was far too late to make it to the bus stop. Peyton wrapped his arm around her as they sprinted to the front porch of a grand old mansion fronting the park. It was mostly dark inside, and Peyton could only hope the owners didn’t come home before the rain stopped.