“It’s so far away,” she said.

“Don’t you want to see new countries?”

“How about someplace closer? Someplace in the United States. California, maybe.”

That’s what they did. Not only did they go to California, they moved there.

She waited tables. He got a job working on a deep-sea fishing boat where rich people spent the day going for that trophy catch. And while he didn’t go along with the idea of pulling such beautiful creatures from the sparkling blue water so they could die in the blinding sun and later end up on someone’s wall, he loved the sense of freedom. At twenty years old, he could ignore the bad and embrace the good, and it was good feeling the salt spray against his skin. It was good having a rolling deck under his bare feet while sea birds cried and circled overhead, begging for the chopped-up fish they used as bait.

His body got hard, his skin turned a deep golden brown, and his hair was bleached white by the sun until he looked like someone born to water and sky.

When he and Julia weren’t working, they made love and talked about going to college. Julia would marvel at the hardness of his body and how he’d adapted so well. He looked pure California, while Julia, with her dark hair and light skin, continued to exude the wholesome Midwest.

“Do you ever wonder what we’re doing here?” she asked him one night.

Her question took him by surprise. They were just getting started. They were just beginning the adventure. “No,” he said.

“Not at all?”

“No.”

She grew very still and very quiet.

And then she began to cry. She was homesick, she told him. She wanted to go back to Missouri.

“I can’t go back there,” he said. “Not now. Maybe never. What’s in Egypt?”

“My family. My friends. I miss my mom, my dad. Even my brothers. I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“I’m here,” he said, hurt to discover that his company wasn’t enough, hurt to discover that while he’d been thinking they were having the greatest time of their young lives, she’d been miserable.

Maybe he didn’t love her enough. Because he couldn’t make himself leave, not after getting a taste of the world. He couldn’t make himself go back to Egypt.

They sold his stereo to buy her a bus ticket home. After she left, Daniel could no longer afford the tiny apartment they’d rented together. His boss let him move his few belongings into the cramped sleeping quarters of one of his boats, and that became Daniel’s home. The room was stuffy and claustrophobic, so most of the time he slept on the deck, with the moon overhead and the water gently lapping under his ear.

That kind of nomadic life was okay for a kid just out of high school, but Daniel began to feel sickened by the carnage. He began to look to the future, and what he saw was a Coast Guard cutter.

Three years after joining the Coast Guard, he gave up his sea legs and took a position with the San Diego police. He somehow ended up in a couple of hostage situations and before he knew it, his life of freedom had turned into one of high stress and fearsome responsibility. He started drinking and smoking-and became damn good at both.

The front door slammed, bringing Daniel back to the present, to the patio, the cigarette, his unfinished beer, and Beau’s return from work.

It was weird, Beau having a job. Daniel still wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

“I’m out here,” Daniel yelled through the screen door.

As soon as Premonition saw Beau, the dog jumped to his feet and started whining and running around in circles.

Beau tried to pet him, but Premonition was too excited to hold still. It took several minutes for them to calm down. As soon as they did, Beau spotted the cigarette butt in the grass.

His face fell. “You’re smoking,” he said in shock. “Why?”

Daniel silently cursed himself. He should have tossed the butt in the flowers where Beau wouldn’t find it.

“It was a rough day. I needed a cigarette.”

“No, no, no.” Beau grabbed the open pack and squeezed them in his fist.

Daniel jumped to his feet, almost knocking over the beer bottle. He tried to wrestle the pack from Beau, but Beau took off across the yard, Premonition at his heels. Daniel tackled him, both men flying to the ground. “Damn it, Beau,” Daniel said, trying to pry Beau’s hand open to get the cigarettes.

“You’re not getting them, you’re not getting them,” Beau yelled. “I turn my back on you a minute and this is what happens.”

Daniel laughed, recognizing their mother’s famous line.

The dog was on top of them, thinking it was a great game.

“Premonition!” Beau yelled, getting the dog’s attention. “Here!” He gave the cigarette pack a heave. The dog went after it, catching it before it hit the ground.

Daniel got to his feet, with Beau following. “Ha, ha,” Beau said, delighted. “Now they’re full of dog slobber.” Then he saw the grass stain on the front of his shirt and immediately went into a panic. “My shirt. It’s dirty. I have to wear it tomorrow. Look what you did.” He was close to tears.

“It’s okay. We’ll wash it. We’ll use that presoak stuff on it, like you see on TV. It’ll get out a grass stain,” Daniel said with a confidence he didn’t feel. Would it? He hoped so. Otherwise Beau would be up all night worrying about the shirt. “We’ll do it right now. Come on. Get the shirt off.”

They had to go to the store to find something for grass stains. By the time they got home, it was getting dark. Inside, the message light on the answering machine was on.

It was Cleo, wondering why he hadn’t come to pick her up so she could get her dog.

“Premonition?” Beau asked, fresh panic setting in on top of an already fragile state of mind.

Daniel rubbed the gooey stain stick across the front of Beau’s shirt, wondering how in the hell it would get rid of the stain. “Yeah, I was going to tell you, but then I forgot, what with all the shirt business.”

He brought the two sides of the shirt together, trying to grind in the stain remover.

Beau and Premonition followed him to the laundry room where Daniel stepped over piles of dirty clothes, tossed the shirt in the washer, poured in some liquid soap, and turned the machine on, dropping the lid with a bang.

This was exactly what he’d feared would happen, that Beau would become attached to the dog. It had just happened a little faster than Daniel had expected. He turned to Beau, all set to explain that Beau couldn’t keep the dog, but then his words tangled in his throat.

Beau was crying.

At that very moment, someone pounded on the front door.

Cleo knocked on the door again, then stepped back and tucked the plastic straw in the corner of her mouth, sucking the last bit of Tastee Delight vanilla shake from the bottom of the cup.

The door opened. Daniel stood there looking at her through the screen.

“Remember me?” she asked. “You were supposed to give me a ride so I could get my dog.”

He scratched his head. “Yeah,” he admitted with a distracted air. “I’ve been a little busy.”

“I walked, if you’re worried about how I got here. I can see you are.” In truth, she hadn’t been able to stay in the motel room one more second.

Since he wasn’t going to ask, she had to. “Can I come in?”

He pushed the screen door open. “Sure.” He didn’t sound sure at all.

She stepped inside the cool, welcoming room. “Where’s Premonition?”

In the distance, beyond the kitchen, she heard a washing machine. It was a homey sound.

Daniel crossed his arms high over his chest. “Listen…about your dog.”

The empty paper cup she was holding fell from nerveless fingers, hitting the floor with a hollow sound. “Oh, my God. Something’s happened. He’s been hit by a car!”

“No, no,” Daniel quickly assured her. “He’s fine. It’s just that, well, Beau’s become attached to him. Really attached, and I was wondering if you’d sell him to us. After all, you were going to leave him here, anyway. So what would it matter? This way you can actually get something out of it.”