even fantasizing was one thing, but falling prey to his charms was another. She imagined summer flings suited him just fine. They were not for her.
He rinsed the dishes, and she loaded them into the dishwasher, but when he glanced up at the window, a glass slipped from his hand. It shattered into the sink.
Windy jumped back, recalling the day her home had been vandalized—the broken china, smashed stereo and cracked television screen. For a brief moment, the fear and nausea returned.
She took a deep, cleansing breath. This was just an accident, that was…
She looked over at Sky. He stood gazing out the window, his hands trembling.
“Are you all right?” she asked, her own discomfort immediately forgotten.
“Huh?” He turned toward her, his eyes glazed, his voice mechanical. “There was a hawk outside the window.”
A hawk? Why would the sight of a bird make him tremble to the point of dropping a glass? “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. It just seemed weird that it came so close to the house. Startled me, that’s all.”
But why? “Are hawks dangerous?”
“No.” He smiled a bit nervously. “Not unless you’re a rodent.”
She peered out the tiny kitchen window yet saw nothing but the neighbor’s fence and the trees beyond it. “Do you think it was searching for food?”
“Maybe.”
He raked his hands through his damp hair, and she noticed they appeared steadier. Maybe he had the right to be jumpy. He had, after all, been in a fight the night before. Then again, a hawk? Maybe she should question Edith about it. Sky certainly wasn’t an easy man to understand.
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