Not missing.
Neither was Abel.
***
Dot slipped out at first light the next morning. She hung the Tilley hat on a hook in the mudroom – the battered old hat with its traces of seagull shit, next to the one that had never been worn. She spied Dottie’s pink knapsack on the floor by the table. She’d forgotten it last time. She picked it up. There was something inside.
She pulled out a ducky mug and placed it on the table, next to a white envelope – her goodbye – clearly visible in the clutter.
Bright as it was, the envelope wasn’t the first thing Gus saw when she shuffled into the room a few hours later.
It was the ducky mug. The ducky mug was where it should be on the table.
That meant Abel was where he should be, too.
Around somewhere.
My gratitude, as always, for the great support of Acorn Press publisher Terrilee Bulger and the talented people she draws around her, including copy editor Laurie Brinklow and artist Matt Reid, who has delivered another stunning cover.
I owe more than I can express to Jane Ledwell, who edited the manuscript so carefully, critically and supportively and truly made of it a better book. Truly.
I am very thankful to my first readers for their assessment of flaws in the book: my only-slightly prejudiced daughter Kirsten MacLeod; Margo MacNaughton (Queen of the Comma among other points of grammar); and Henry Mead, one of two great friends to whom this book is dedicated and who possesses a keen sense of what works and what doesn’t.
Thanks to Dr. Ian Feltham for telling me about crab asthma. You find out the most unexpected things during a medical checkup.
Cod Only Knows Page 27
