"Topolina made me promise to always be waiting for her, and if she sees me giving away her rubies, then she might think I don't love her as much as I do."

"Why does she think they're rubies?"

"Because Topolina has a very good imagination, and when she sees the shore lined in red balloons, she won't see balloons, she'll see treasure. To her, these balloons will be like rubies."

The little girl thought for a moment. "Okay. But if she doesn't come, can I have a balloon THEN? Err, ruby?"

"She'll come," I assured. "Keep your eyes on the water tonight. Topolina won't be far. She loves the fireworks."

The little girl ran away and as soon as she found her family on the beach, I watched her arms flail as she told her mom about my story, and then she grabbed her little brother and they both stared at the ocean, waiting, for the most beautiful mermaid in the world. Waiting, like me, for my Topolina.

And in the darkness that night, long after the fireworks, long after the beach cleared and as the soft waves rolled, I swore I saw beauty starring back at me. It was like theater night when I had carried her warmth home on my arm. Her ghost still lingered beside me.

When I returned to Red Pine, I went to visit Pearl the following Sunday, but all I found was a woman faced down in the dirt, with a basket full of ripe tomatoes at her side. Heart Failure was the name of her murderer. "No, nothing ever happens by coincidence," I told the sky that night.

Nothing at all.

Dance Me to the End Part Six Birthday Wishes It was late when I arrived to New York. My parents' house was dark, but when I stepped inside, my father was still awake. He had an old radio taken apart on the kitchen table, and a lamp missing a shade guiding his attempt to put it back together.

I smiled at him. "Why the hell are you messing with that thing, Pop?"

He glanced at me as he tinkered. "A good puzzle keeps the mind sharp. Sit. I'll make you coffee as soon as I figure out where this piece goes."

"I can't." Because I was about to burst at the seams. "I only came to buy the Chevy off you."

He put down the screwdriver and stared at me. "I'm not selling the Chevy."

"I'm picking up Everly Anne. Today is her 21st birthday."

He scooted away from the table, and stood. "I'll get you the title."

I laughed. "That was way easier than I imagined. I almost feel as though I'm taking advantage of you, Pop. I should have come earlier, while you were still lucid."

"I'm lucid," he declared, staring me straight in the eye. "Have been for almost a year."

"Is that true?"

"Yes," he nodded. "And your Everly Anne is why. So I'll get you the title. Excuse me."

On the way out the door, he handed me the keys, the title, and said, "Take care of her. A lot of history in that classic."

I turned and gave him a solid hug. "And more to be made, Pop."

He patted my back, and let me go.

Did you ever steal something so minor, it shouldn't really matter that you took it without asking, but still, you felt completely guilty about it? When I knocked on Everly's front door, I wanted to feel liberated. I wanted to see her swing that goddamn front door open and smile victoriously. But when it happened, it wasn't like that at all. Timothy greeted me-and by greeted-I mean he opened the door and stared daggers at me until Everly Anne slid past him, and then watched from the stoop as I loaded her things into the Chevy. I felt like that damn thief as I looked up at him, except, I was stealing something big.

I shut the passenger door for her, and then walked around the Chevy to meet Timothy at the bottom of the steps. His eyes were only on her, sitting in the car.

"I'll take care of her," I promised. "I should thank you for always doing that, Dr. Brighton."

His eyes flicked to me, dark and heated coals. "Don't give me your damn pleasantries, now."

Timothy turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him, cutting off all lights to the house, leaving me in the dark.

Before I turned over the ignition, I looked at her. It was like a dream.

I took her hand into mine. "Good birthday, Everly Anne?"

Finally she looked at me, and as if she had suddenly remembered my words, she smiled, bringing life into her eyes, and giving her all to me, so I could see her shine bright.

"Good birthday, Callum Andrew."

"It's about to get much better," I promised.