“Long story,” Nessa said.
“Oh. Hey, Daltrey,” Otto said. “You like playing hide--and--seek?”
He nodded, all smiles.
“You want to play right now?”
He nodded more vigorously.
Daltrey was “it” for the first game, and the three adults made sure they were just visible enough for him to find them.
Nessa was impressed with Otto’s easy manner with Daltrey. Not that she’d ever tell him that, but it was nice to observe Otto out of context. When Daltrey chased him, he pretended to run fast, and Nessa caught a glimpse of Otto as a little boy before the irony bug bit him.
“Bedtime,” Nessa called.
Daltrey got limp, slumping as he walked reluctantly toward her.
“Hey, Daltrey,” Otto said. “We’ll play again sometime, okay?”
Daltrey nodded and signed “Good night” to him.
“I’ll put him down,” Isabeau said.
“Let’s go in too,” Nessa said. “I can’t take any more of this heat.”
“Good call,” Otto said.
They all trooped inside, and Isabeau and Daltrey went upstairs.
“Another beer? More wine?” Nessa said as she washed her hands at the sink in the kitchen.
“I’ll have another beer,” Otto said, pulling a PBR out of his cooler.
“Mommy,” Isabeau called down the stairs. “Come say good--night!”
“Be right there,” she said, drying her hands.
“Where are we going to hang out?” Otto said. “Kitchen or living room? Where do you normally?”
“Living room,” she said, and went upstairs.
Daltrey was all jammied and toothbrushed and all tucked into bed.
“Good night, Daltrey,” Isabeau said.
Nessa hugged and kissed him. “I love you,” she said.
He held up his hand in the abbreviated ASL “I love you” sign and closed his eyes. She turned on his night--light and sound machine, turned out the light, and followed Isabeau out of the room.
Down in the living room, Otto occupied the wingback chair and Isabeau sat on the floor with her back against the couch holding a glass of wine.
“That is one cute kid,” Otto said.
“Thank you,” Nessa said, plugging her phone into her minispeakers, then set iTunes to shuffle. “Ideal World” began to play.
She sat on the couch
“Is that . . . Girlpool?” Otto said, incredulous.
“Yeah,” she said.
“I thought you were strictly a Led Zeppelin/Bad Company midseventies classic rock type.”
“Have you ever heard me play either of those bands? Ever?”
“Well, no, but—-”
“She’s turned me on to a whole bunch of music I’d never heard of before,” Isabeau said. “She’s a very interesting person.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know,” Otto said. “Nessa doesn’t talk about herself.”
“I’m a very private person,” Nessa said. She didn’t like where this was going.
“You can’t be a private person nowadays,” Otto said. “Everyone is out there and exposed, and there’s nothing you can do about it. So you might as well just let it all out.”
This was truer than Otto could possibly know. She needed to steer the conversation away from herself. “Right,” she said. “So what about you, Otto? Where’d you grow up?”
“Mulvane, near Wichita,” he said. “My dad’s a farmer. Mom’s a schoolteacher.”
“Did everybody pick on you when you were a kid?” Isabeau said.
He drew back, shocked. “No,” he said, drawing it out, which Nessa took to mean “yes.” She saw in his face the younger version of himself that no one liked. And she imagined her own oddball son, and how it felt when he was shunned or shut out by other kids at the park because he didn’t talk.
This and the way he was with Daltrey were what she needed to see to stop hating him.
“Everybody picked on me,” Isabeau said. “I was the tallest girl in my class. It sucked.” She yawned and stretched. “I can’t keep my eyes open. I’m going to bed.” She stood and stretched again. “See you, Otto.”
“Good night,” he said, looking panicked.
Nessa wanted to laugh. Was he afraid to be left alone with her? They worked alone together twice a week.
“I’ll help with the dishes,” he said resolutely.
“I’m going to just leave them,” Nessa said.
“I’ll just do them for you. You can go on to bed, Nessa.”
“What, and let you dig through my stuff? Not on your life, princess.”
His laugh sounded nervous, as if he thought she believed he’d really do this. He stood and walked into the kitchen.
Isabeau winked at Nessa and went upstairs.
Nessa joined Otto in the kitchen and put Otto’s leftover food into his cooler while he rinsed dishes. She loaded the dishwasher.
“What do you think,” Otto said. “Think I could do your job?”
“Sure,” Nessa said. “A chimp could do it.”
He leaned back against the counter. “That’s always been the goal,” he said dreamily. “To get an Altair satellite show, but I’d do it right. I’d play super--obscure stuff that only a handful of true connoisseurs would know.”
“That is antithetical to the business model, which is actually to get -people to listen, not to drive the larger audience away, you dumbass.”