Heroes Are My Weakness: A Novel

THEO DIDN’T MENTION THE NOTE to her the next morning. He didn’t say much of anything except that he needed his car that day. Only later did she discover he’d driven to the dock to pick up the locksmith. Knowing she didn’t have the money to pay the bill made her feel ashamed.

He was in the studio when she returned to the cottage. She took the box of wine from her closet and carried it out to his car. He opened the kitchen door for her as she came back in. “What did you put in my car?”

“Some excellent wine. You’re welcome. And thanks for taking care of the locks.”

He saw right through her. “I had the locks changed for myself. I can’t chance having my laptop stolen while I’m out.”

He was trying to let her save face, which only made her more indebted. “Uh-huh.”

“Annie, I don’t want your wine. This isn’t a big deal to me.”

“It’s a big deal to me.”

“All right. How’s this? No more Post-it notes on your door, and we’ll call it even.”

“Enjoy your wine.” She couldn’t think straight with him standing in front of her, oozing all those male pheromones, not after what had happened at the farmhouse. “Did you bring a gun?”

He didn’t press. “I’ve got it. Grab your coat.”

They went out on the marsh. After he’d gone through the basic rules of gun safety, he showed her how to load and fire the automatic pistol he’d chosen for her. The gun should have repelled Annie, but she liked shooting it. What she didn’t like was the unexpected eroticism of having Theo so close. They were barely inside the cottage before they were tearing off each other’s clothes.


“I DON’T WANT TO TALK about it,” she snarled at him later that night as they lay in her bed.

He yawned. “Fine by me. More than fine.”

“You can’t sleep here. You have to sleep in your own bed.”

He tried to settle her against his naked body. “I don’t want to sleep in my own bed.”

She didn’t want him to, either, but however murky some things might be, this was clear. “I want sex, not intimacy.”

He curled his hand around her rear. “Sex it is.”

She wiggled away. “You have two options. You can either sleep by yourself, or you can lie here for the next three hours and listen to the details of every crappy relationship I’ve ever had, why they were crappy, and why men suck. Warning. I cry ugly.”

He threw back the cover. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I thought so.”


ANNIE HAD GOTTEN WHAT SHE wanted from Theo—the best sex of her life—but she’d also set boundaries.

Very sensible, Dilly said. You’ve finally learned your lesson.

The next afternoon, Annie took Livia outside again. It was too windy for the beach, so they hung out on the front porch steps. Annie needed to know if she’d done any damage yesterday, and she propped Scamp on her knee. The puppet got straight to the point. “Are you mad at me for talking about your daddy when we went down to the beach?”

Livia pursed her lips, thinking it over, then slowly shook her head.

“Good,” Scamp said, “because I was worried you’d be mad.”

Livia shook her head again, then climbed up on the stone balustrade that had replaced the wooden spindles. She straddled the balustrade, her back to Annie.

Should she drop the subject or keep it on the table? She needed to do more research on mutism and childhood trauma. In the meantime, she would trust her instincts.

“I would hate it if I had a daddy that did bad things to my mommy,” Scamp said. “Especially if I couldn’t talk about it.”

Livia began riding the balustrade horse.

“Or sing about it. I believe I’ve mentioned that I’m an accomplished vocalist.” Scamp began singing a series of scales. It had taken Annie endless years of practice to sing well in the vocal registers of all her puppets, something that set her apart from most vents. Scamp finally stopped. “If you ever want me to sing another song about what happened, let me know.”

Livia quit riding her horse and turned around. She stared at Annie, then at Scamp.

“Yes or no?” Scamp chirped. “I shall abide by your wise decision.”

Livia dropped her head and picked at some residual pink nail polish on her thumbnail. A definite no. What had Annie expected? Did she really think her clumsy interference could unlock such a deep trauma?

Livia shifted her position on the balustrade so she was facing Annie. She slowly moved her head. A hesitant nod.

Annie felt as if her heart skipped a beat. “Very well,” Scamp said. “I shall call my song ‘The Ballad of Livia’s Terrible Experience.’?” Annie stalled for time with some dramatic throat clearing. The best she could hope to do was drag the topic out of the darkness into the light. Maybe that would make it less taboo. She also needed to tell Jaycie about this. She began to sing softly.


“Little girls shouldn’t see bad things

But sometimes they do . . .”

She continued her song, making it up as she’d done yesterday, but this time keeping the tune more serious and avoiding any Olés. Livia listened to every word, then nodded at the end and went back to riding her balustrade horse.

Annie heard a noise behind her and turned.

Theo leaned against the corner of the house at the far end of the porch. Even from where she was, she could see the frown etched between his eyebrows. He’d overheard, and he was judging her for it.

Livia saw him, too, and stopped riding the balustrade. He came forward, the collar of his parka turned up, his footsteps silent on the stone porch floor.

Screw his judgment, Annie thought. At least she was trying to help Livia. What had he done, other than scare her?

Scamp was still on her arm, and she thrust the puppet forward. “Halt! Identify yourself!”

He halted. “Theo Harp. I live here.”

“So you say. Prove it.”

“Well . . . My initials are carved in the floor of the gazebo.”

His initials as well as his twin’s.

Scamp thrust her chin forward. “Are you good or bad, Mr. Theo Harp?”

One dark eyebrow shot toward his hairline, but he kept his focus on the puppet. “I try to be good, but it’s not always easy.”

“Do you eat your vegetables?”

“Everything except rutabaga.”

Scamp turned toward Livia and said in a stage whisper, “He doesn’t like rutabaga either.” Then back to Theo. “Do you take a bath without making a big fuss about it?”

“I take showers. I like ’em.”

“Do you run outside in your socks?”

“No.”

“Do you sneak candy when nobody’s looking?”

“Only peanut butter cups.”

“Your horse is scary.”

He glanced over at Livia. “That’s why kids need to stay out of the stable if I’m not there.”

“Do you ever yell?”

He returned his attention to Scamp. “I try not to. Unless the Sixers are losing.”

“Do you know how to comb your hair by yourself?”

“I do.”

“Do you bite your fingernails?”

“Absolutely not.”

Scamp took a deep breath, dropped her head, and lowered her voice. “Do you ever hit mommies?”

Theo didn’t blink. “Never. Absolutely never. Nobody should ever hit mommies.”

Scamp turned to Livia and cocked her head. “What do you think? Can he stay?”

Livia nodded agreeably—no hesitation, firm nod—and slipped down off the balustrade.

“Could I speak with Annie now?” Theo asked Scamp.

“I guess,” Scamp replied. “I’ll go make up songs in my head.”

“You do that.”

Annie returned Scamp to her backpack. She expected Livia to go inside, now that the puppet wasn’t part of the conversation, but instead she wandered along the porch and down the three front steps. Annie started to tell her to come back, but Livia didn’t stray. Instead she poked around in the frozen dirt next to the house.

Theo tilted his head toward the end of the porch, clearly indicating they needed a private conversation. Annie went over to him, still keeping her eye on Livia. He spoke quietly, so the child couldn’t hear. “How long has this been going on?”

“She and Scamp have been friends for a while, but I only started talking about her father a couple of days ago. And, no, I don’t know what I’m doing. And, yes, I realize I’m meddling with a problem that’s too complicated for someone who’s not a professional. Do you think I’m crazy?”

He considered. “She’s definitely not as skittish as she was. And she seems to like being around you.”

“She likes being around Scamp.”

“Scamp is the one who started talking to her about what she saw, right? It was Scamp, not you?”

Annie nodded.

“And she wants to be with Scamp?” he said.

“She seems to.”

He frowned. “How do you do it? I’m a grown man. I know damn well you’re the one who’s making that puppet talk, but I still look at the puppet.”

“I’m good at what I do.” She’d intended to be sarcastic, but it didn’t come out that way.

“Damn right you are.” He tilted his head toward the little girl. “I say keep going. If she’s had enough, she’ll let you know.”

His confidence made her feel better.

He turned to leave only to have Livia come scampering up the stairs after him. She’d brought something with her. Looking up at him, she opened her hands, showing him a couple of small rocks and some clamshells. He gazed down at her. She gazed back, her lips setting in their familiar mulish line. She extended her hands. He smiled and took what she’d given him, then rubbed the top of her head. “See you later, kiddo.” He disappeared down the cliff steps to the beach.

How odd. Livia was afraid of Theo, so why had she given him what she’d collected?

Rocks, clamshells . . .

Annie understood. Livia had given him her offerings because he was the one building her fairy house.