Page 4 of Devil in Disguise

“Only about as much as I want to design spacecraft,” Dyma said, which was, yes, their whole impossible deal in a sentence.

Owen told Jennifer, “We’ll head back around midnight.”

She said, “You know—I probably don’t get to insist on that anymore.”

Jennifer looked at her grandfather, and he said, “Don’t ask me. What do I know? I’m eighty-five. The rules keep changing on me.”

“You mean you don’t think we should have a big angsty discussion about choices?” Dyma asked, the life just about vibrating from her. She was wearing a strappy little blue dress that should have had flowers on it, except that she’d told Owen she didn’t like flowered clothes. “Rigid gender roles,” she’d informed him. “As if only women can like flowers. I refuse to reinforce that.”

“Never mind,” he’d said. “I figured that one out already.” He was just thankful for that little dress, and the way it showed off her tight little body.Privatelythankful.Hewasn’t mentioning gender roles and clothing. He wasn’t stupid.

“No,” Jennifer said serenely, and he tried to remember what they’d been talking about. “At this point, I have to figure I’ve had enough big angsty discussions with you, Dyma. Either they’ve sunk in or they haven’t. Not much I can do about it now.”

“Careful,” Dyma said, looking a little taken aback, or like she’d been looking forward to the argument, which she probably had. “That’s dangerously egalitarian.”

“Yep,” her mother said. “And yet here we are. At some point, the baby bird hops out to the edge of the nest and takes off on her own.”

“That’s right,” Oscar said.

Everybody else said nothing. They just watched.

Dyma said, “Oh—Annabelle, some of my friends are meeting up later down at the lake, if you want to go. It’d be cool with them for you to hang too. You’ve met all of them before.”

“That’s OK,” she said. “I’m good.”

Dyma hesitated, and that was the best of her, Owen thought. She finally said, “We’ll hang out tomorrow, all right?”

“Seriously,” Annabelle said, flushing a little, “I’m good.”

When they were in Owen’s rental car, though, and she’d stowed her graduation gifts carefully in the back, she didn’t practically climb on top of him like she normally would, as if she wanted to test his self-control right then and there. She didn’t say anything, in fact. He asked, his hand on the key but not turning it, “Doing all right?”

“What? Yeah.” She frowned out the window as if she didn’t see any of it—the lake, the sky, the mountains, the approaching darkness—and said, “I’m feeling self-centered. So you know. And I’m hating it. Look, I get that graduating from high school is no big deal. Just about everybody does it. I don’t need to be some diva about it.”

For once, he was the one leaning across the center console of the SUV. He put an arm around her, kissed her cheek, and said, “No. It’s a big deal. When I graduated, you bet it felt like a huge deal. Like my life starting, finally. Finishing college a few years back was a big deal, too. And the draft. That was another huge one.”

“Because that was on TV, and youwerea big deal. Which I’m not.”

“Doesn’t matter. You get to be the star of your show tonight.” He didn’t like big emotional talks himself, but he forced himself to go on. “It’s an occasion, that’s all. People like occasions. It’s a big deal to your mom, for sure. She’s proud. It’s all right to let her be proud. She did a good job. She has a right.”

“OK,” she said. “So how do we celebrate?”

“Well,” he said, “I thought we could go dancing. I bought you something for that. Hang on.”

* * *

He’d wrapped the box.In Christmas paper, but still, he’d wrapped it. She ripped it open with no care at all.

He’d alreadygivenher a graduation present, though. So …

It was cowboy boots. Silver ones, and not too tall, which was good, because it wasn’t very far from her ankles to her knees. They had stars and swirls stamped into the leather, studs decorating the edges, and a sort of feathery cutout effect going on, like you were wearing dragon wings. And they were in her size.

She sat, stroked her hand over the soft leather, the intricately carved surfaces, and said, “Wow.”

He said, “They wouldn’t be much use for ranch work, but they’d sure look good with that dress you’re wearing.”

“So I’m a cowgirl now?” she asked. Trying to tease him, trying to think if this meant … well, you know, anything, besides that he’d given her boots.Gorgeousboots. She didn’t have a single snarky thing to say about these boots.

“I sure hope so,” he said. “If you want to be.” And just sat there, which was no help at all. Was this some kind of rancher declaration, of wanting her to be in his life more? Or more fully? Or what?