“Who’s your friend, Sookie?” she called.

The tight top she was wearing made Tara look a little bigger than she had when she’d come into the bar to eat lunch. She was wearing some pre-pregnancy shorts scooted down under her belly. I knew extra money wasn’t plentiful in the du Rone/Thornton household these days, but I hoped Tara could find money in the budget to get some real maternity clothes before too long. Unfortunately, her clothing store, Tara’s Togs, didn’t carry maternity stuff.

“This is my cousin Hunter,” I said. “Hunter, this is my friend Tara.” Claude, who had been swinging on the swing set, chose that moment to leap off and bound over to where we stood. “Tara, this is my cousin Claude.”

Now, Tara had known me all her life, and she knew all the members of my family. I gave her high points for absorbing this introduction and giving Hunter a friendly smile, which she then extended to Claude. She must have recognized him—she’d seen him in action. But she never blinked an eye.

“How many months are you?” Claude asked.

“A little more than three months away from delivery,” Tara said, and sighed. I guess Tara had gotten used to relative strangers asking her personal questions. She’d told me before that all conversational bars were removed when you were pregnant. “People will ask you anything,” she’d said. “And the women’ll tell you labor and delivery stories that make your hair curl.”

“Do you want to know what you’re having?” Claude asked.

That was way out of bounds. “Claude,” I said reprovingly. “That’s too personal.” Fairies just didn’t have the same concept of personal information or personal space that humans did.

“I apologize,” my cousin said, very insincerely. “I thought you might enjoy knowing before you buy their clothes. You color-code babies, I believe.”

“Sure,” Tara said abruptly. “What sex is the baby?”

“Both,” he said with a smile. “You’re having twins, a boy and a girl.”

“My doctor’s heard only one heartbeat,” she said, trying to be gentle about telling him he was wrong.

“Then your doctor is an idiot,” Claude said cheerfully. “You have two babies, alive and well.”

Tara obviously didn’t know what to make of this. “I’ll get him to look harder next time I go in,” she said. “And I’ll tell Sookie to let you know what he says.”

Fortunately, Hunter had mostly ignored this conversation. He had just learned how to throw the softball up in the air and catch it, and he was distracted by the effort to put my mitt on his little hand. “Did you play baseball, Aunt Sookie?” he asked.

“Softball,” I said. “You bet I did. I played right field. That means I stood way out in the field and waited to see if the girl batting would hit the ball out my way. Then I’d catch it, and I’d throw it in to the pitcher, or whichever player needed it most.”

“Your aunt Sookie was the best right fielder in the history of the Lady Falcons,” Tara said, squatting down to talk to Hunter eye to eye.

“Well, I had a good time,” I said.

“Did you play softball?” Hunter asked Tara.

“No, I came and cheered for Sookie,” Tara said, which was the absolute truth, God bless her.

“Here, Hunter,” Claude said, and gave the softball an easy toss. “Go get it and throw it back to me.”

The unlikely twosome wandered around the park, throwing the ball to each other with very little accuracy. They were having a great time.

“Well, well, well,” Tara said. “You have a habit of picking up family in funny places. A cousin? Where’d you get a cousin? He’s not a secret by-blow of Jason’s, right?”

“He’s Hadley’s son.”

“Oh. oh my God.” Tara’s eyes widened. She looked at Hunter, trying to pick out a likeness to Hadley in his features. “That’s not the dad? Impossible.”

“No,” I said. “That’s Claude Crane, and he’s my cousin, too.”

“He’s sure not Hadley’s kid,” Tara said, laughing. “And Hadley’s the only cousin you had that I ever heard of.”

“Ah. sort of wrong-side-of-the-blanket stuff,” I said. It was impossible to explain without casting Gran’s integrity into question.

Tara saw how uncomfortable I was with the subject of Claude.

“How are you and the tall blond getting along?”

“We’re getting along okay,” I said cautiously. “I’m not looking elsewhere.”

“I should say not! No woman in her right mind would go out with anyone else if she could have Eric. Beautiful and smart.” Tara sounded a bit wistful. Well, at least JB was beautiful.

“Eric can be a pain when he wants to be. And talk about baggage!” I tried to picture stepping out on Eric. “If I tried to see someone else, he might. ”

“Kill that someone else?”

“He sure wouldn’t be happy,” I said, in a massive understatement.

“So, you want to tell me what’s wrong?” Tara put her hand on mine. She’s not a toucher, so that meant a lot.

“Truth be told, Tara, I’m not sure.” I had an overwhelming feeling that something was askew, something important. But I couldn’t put my finger on what that might be.

“Supes?” she said.

I shrugged.

“Well, I got to go into the shop,” she said. “McKenna opened for me today, but I can’t ask her to do that for me all the time.” We said good-bye, happier with each other than we’d been in a long time. I realized that I needed to throw Tara a baby shower, and I couldn’t imagine why it hadn’t occurred to me before now. I needed to get cracking on the planning. If I made it a surprise shower, and did all the food myself. Oh, and I’d have to tell people Tara and JB were expecting twins. I didn’t doubt Claude’s accuracy for a second.

I thought I would go out into the woods myself, maybe tomorrow. I’d be alone then. I knew that Heidi’s nose and eyes—and Basim’s, for that matter—were far more acute than mine, but I had an overwhelming impulse to see what I could see. Once again, something stirred in the back of my head, a memory that wasn’t a memory. Something to do with the woods. with a hurt man in the woods. I shook my head to rid myself of the haziness, and I realized I couldn’t hear any voices.

“Claude,” I called.

“Here!”

I walked around a clump of bushes and saw the fairy and the little boy enjoying the whirligig. That’s what I’d always called it, anyway. It’s circular, several kids can stand on it, a few others run around the edges pushing, and then it whirls in a circle until the impetus is gone. Claude was pushing it way too fast, and though Hunter was enjoying it, his grin was looking a little tense, too. I could see the fear in his brain, seeping through the pleasure.

“Whoa, Claude,” I said, keeping my voice level. “That’s enough speed for a kid.” Claude stopped pushing, though he was reluctant. He’d been having a great time himself.

Though Hunter pooh-poohed my warning, I could tell he was relieved. He hugged Claude when Claude told him he had to go to Monroe to open up his club. “What kind of club?” Hunter asked, and I had to give Claude a significant look and keep my head blank.

“See you later, sport,” the fairy told the child, and hugged him back.

It was time for an early lunch, so I took Hunter to McDonald’s as a big treat. His dad hadn’t mentioned any ban on fast food, and I figured one trip was okay.

Hunter loved his Happy Meal, ran the toy car from the container over the tabletop until I was absolutely tired of it, and then wanted to go into the play area. I was sitting on a bench watching him, hoping the joys of the tunnels and the slide would hold him for at least ten more minutes, when another woman came out the door into the fenced area, with a boy about Hunter’s age in tow. Though I practically heard the ominous thud of bass drums, I kept a smile pasted on my face and hoped for the best.

After a few seconds of regarding each other warily, the two boys began shouting and running around the small play area together, and I relaxed, but cautiously. I ventured a smile at Mom, but she was brooding off into the distance, and I didn’t have to read her mind to see she’d had a bad morning. (I discovered that her dryer had broken down, and she couldn’t afford another one for at least two months.)