Chapter 40
Ruth scanned the playground of St. James Park, her third such head-check in the past ten minutes. Avri, Hadassah, Orly—for the moment known as one, two, and three—were all once again accounted for, at the climbing frame, the swings, and the sand, respectively. She glanced at her watch and looked behind her, also for the third time in the past ten minutes.
“You’re going to give yourself whiplash,” Macaire said, handing Noah a slice of his apple. “Relax, chérie. He’ll be here.”
“Forgive me, darling. I have a ways to go yet, it seems, in my pursuit of stillness.” Ruth leaned into him, head tilted upward, and planted a kiss on his lips. “Do you suppose they’re there by now?”
“Their flight was due to land in Tel Aviv over an hour ago,” Macaire replied. “By now Hector is probably
