Craig sipped water at the dinner table Tuesday evening, Kara sitting at an angle to his right and Zach opposite her on his left.
"I thought of a way we could find out Grandfather's or Grandmother's name," Zach announced between bites of his hamburger. Apparently this was the first burger he could remember ever eating outside of school. "But it would never work."
Kara smiled encouragingly. "What's your idea?"
"I thought that if they put people's pictures on their graves when they're buried, we could go to the graveyard and look at the pictures until we found them. But I don't think they put pictures on graves."
"No, they don't," Craig agreed. "Good thought, though. I'm glad you're thinking about what we can do."
Kara tapped her fork against her teeth. "Actually, they print notices in the newspaper when people die, and sometimes they include a photograph." She stepped out of her chair for a moment to fetch the day's newspaper from the kitchen counter and opened it to the obituaries. "See?"
"But how are you going to get obituaries from months or years ago?" Craig asked her.
"The library has all the old Seattle Times on their web site," she replied. "The question is whether his grandparents were listed in there."
"And whether the family included a photograph."
"Mm-hmm."
Zach was still reading the obituaries page—or, rather, the article beneath the obituaries. "Weird," he said, looking up at them both. "Somebody robbed a store last night, but didn't take anything."
"Then how do they know it got robbed?" Craig asked.
"It says the thief left the back door unlocked and turned off some of the video cameras for a while. Stores have video cameras?"
Kara grinned. "They do—to stop thieves."
"Sounds like this guy's pretty good," Craig said. "But he didn't take anything. Or maybe he had some other purpose. Either way, that's pretty strange." Craig finished his last bite, took another swallow of water, and stood up, glancing at the clock. "I'd better get going."
Kara looked at him a little too directly with eyes fully open and eyebrows raised, silently telling him something—but what? He lowered his own brows in confusion. So did Zach, watching them. She gave a slight nod to the side, toward Zach.
"Oh!" Craig exclaimed, getting it. He turned to the youngster. "Er… Kara wants me to ask if you would like to come with me."
"Yes!" he replied instantly. "Where to?"
"I have another Little League game to coach tonight. Come on, you can sit in the dugout with the team. Bring that hat I gave you."
Zach wolfed down the last of his meal, ran his dishes to the sink, and dashed off to the guestroom. Craig shared a look of wonder with Kara; the youngster didn't even care where they were going, so long as he could come, too. Maybe he really had been kept inside all of his life.
He hurried back with his cap on his head, and a moment later they climbed into the pickup together. Zach buckled his seatbelt and turned to Craig. "Dad?" he asked.
"Yes?" He was getting used to being called "Dad," even if the title didn't fit. The youngster seemed so earnest about it.
"Can you and Mom read each other's minds?"
Craig backed the pickup out of the garage. "What do you mean?"
"You know, the way she looked at you and you knew what she was saying."
Craig laughed. "No, Zach, there's no man alive who can tell what a woman is thinking—even if she explains it to you."
"But you did," he contended.
"A lucky guess," Craig said. "It comes from being married a long time." He pulled the pickup into the street.
Zach thought about that for a moment. "Dad?"
"Hmm?"
"Can Mom read your mind?"
"Yes, Zach. Women always know what men are thinking, especially if you don't tell them."
The youngster turned and looked out the passenger window. "I am definitely never getting married."
*****
The Boy Who Appeared from the Rain Page 30