The Good Atheist (34 page)
We talked a long time under that tree, making plans to start a new life at the cottage. After an hour or so we started back for the cottage, strolling arm in arm. Just as we walked up to the porch, the two children came running out, brushed passed us and dashed out into the yard, shouting and laughing at the top of their lungs.
I pointed at the open front door the children had just run through. “Honey, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“Uh-huh?”
“Who are these people?”
“Oh, Jorge dropped them off last night. They’re on their way to Canada.”
“Fugitives?”
“Well, yes.”
“Are you trying to tell me they’re fugitives from the law?”
“Yes, dear. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“You’re harboring fugitives from the Inquisition?” I repeated.
Selene seemed not to notice the mildly mocking tone of my voice and took me seriously. She gestured wildly, waving the spatula in the air for emphasis. “Dear, I could hardly turn them away. They have no other place to go.”
I laughed, and took the spatula out of her hand before she whacked me again. “Sweetheart, I have a feeling that this is the beginning of a beautiful new life together.”
And then we walked slowly, arm in arm, back to the cottage.
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