"Sure," I said warily.

Harley nodded. "About six years ago, I was in a real bad place." He paused, glancing at Priscilla who was looking at him sympathetically, and then took her hand in his. "I couldn't figure out how to get myself sober, had lost everything, alienated everyone who cared about me. I planned to end my life. Got a gun and everything. It was loaded, ready to go."

"Jesus, Harley," I muttered. "I didn't know."

He nodded. "It's difficult to admit how low I was, how little I valued my life back then. But it's the truth of my story. I went to the drop-in center for what I intended to be my last meal, and that's where I met Kira. She must have been just a teenager at the time."

A teenager. Teenagers weren't typically known for their selflessness. But Kira had been kind, even then . . .

I focused back in on what Harley was saying. "She served me some food, sat down with me, and we chatted for a while. She had brought this magic kit to entertain the kids and she did a few tricks for me—completely amateur. She was all animated about it, though, full of life, you know?" Yes, I did know. "And it was the first time I remembered smiling for a long time. She told me if I came back the next day, she'd show me how she'd done them. Well, I probably would’ve been able to figure them out on my own—they weren't very complicated. But just the fact that someone asked me to return, and seemed to want it enough to try to bribe me with the answers to some silly tricks," he chuckled softly, "well, I did come back that next day. And then she did something else to spark my interest, and it was the first time I realized I had any interest left. That one simple thing gave me the hope I needed. So I kept going back, and I guess you could say I got distracted from ending my life. That's the truth."

God, that sounded like Kira—sounded just like her. I felt my heart thumping in my chest, the ice that had started to rebuild around my heart began to melt and slide away. I couldn't decide if I was angry about it or not. Damn little witch. Where was she?

Harley continued, "I wasn't ready quite yet to turn my life around, made some mistakes, ended up serving time with you. But I'll tell you this, as God is my witness, if it hadn't been for Kira saving my life, I wouldn't have been around to be saved again by you, and then to do what I could to make your time inside a little easier. Funny how it worked out like that, isn't it? Funny how one life can affect another, and then that life affects the one after it and on and on."

"Funny," I breathed. "Random."

Harley winked. "If you're a believer in random." He paused, a smile appearing, "Well, listen, my man, we'll have lots of time to reminisce. But if I'm going to be at my best for work tomorrow morning, I better get home so I can rest up. Plus, Priscilla has to work tonight."

"Oh," Charlotte said. "What do you do, dear?"

"I'm an exotic dancer," she said, smiling.

"Oh, a dancer! How lovely," Charlotte answered, bringing her hands together as if Priscilla had just told her she was the lead on Broadway.

I cleared my throat and smiled at Harley and Priscilla as I stood up. "I can't tell you how glad I am you looked me up. It's good to see you."

"You too, brother." We shook, bumping fists like we'd always done in prison. Charlotte gave both Harley and Priscilla a hug and walked them to the door. After they'd left, but before anyone had a chance to seek me out, I grabbed my keys and left out the back door, circling around to the front and getting in my truck. I drove toward town—I had a wife to look for, and some errands to do.

**********

"Oh, you're back," Charlotte said, holding the laundry bin from my bathroom and two shirts she’d obviously just ironed. I was staring out the window and I barely spared her a glance. I'd been ignoring her, too, for the past week—mostly for the stunt she'd pulled in luring Shane and Vanessa here under false pretenses and forcing me to contend with their presence.

I'd just gotten home from driving around Napa looking for Kira's car. Harley's story had convinced me to go out searching for her, but maybe I shouldn't have been looking for her at all. She'd said she wanted me. Heat of the moment? Or she'd meant it in a purely physical sense. Or she'd lied. Or . . . who cared what? She wasn't here, that was the bottom line.

She'd left me.

I don't want you. I don't want you at all.

If you were worth more . . .

Maybe she'd driven to San Francisco to stay with Kimberly.

She'd said in her note she'd be back for the party, though.

"Well, when you're done feeling all sorry for yourself, dinner will be—" Charlotte's words ended abruptly and I looked up. She was standing at the closet door, having just hung up the ironed shirts. She turned toward me sharply. "So this is how you see yourself? The villain? Or wait, perhaps the victim. Captain Hook to your brother's Peter Pan? This is what you've come up with?" she asked as she held the costume I'd stopped and rented after being unable to find Kira. There was only one description for the look on her face—utter disappointment.

"What would you have me dress as, Charlotte?" I asked. "A prince? It's just a stupid party anyway. It means nothing. And I'm no prince."

"It's a party your wife is throwing for you out of the kindness in her heart."

I glowered at her. "My wife is gone. She left me. She's only coming back for the party and then she's leaving again—permanently. Just as we’d planned." Just as we'd planned.