He broke off and turned to look at me, his body tense like he’d accidentally opened a conversational door and now he wasn’t sure he wanted me to walk throughit.
Was,he’d said.Had.Past-tense.
I felt a stirring ofsympathy.
“That was me when I was younger.” I turned to slam the trunk lid and lock the car again. “I used to draw cartoons all the time, anthropomorphic cars, and squirrels, and cans of soda. Half of them weren’t even funny. But it gave me something to do in social situations. An outlet for my random thoughts.” I was babbling, and his soft smile told me he appreciatedit.
I cleared my throat, profoundly uncomfortable, and hobbled back to the truck. “Do you, uh, know where my grandfatherlives?”
Stupid. Of course he did. My grandparents used to live in an old Victorian on the outskirts of town, with a huge front yard where Grandma Anna had grown roses and I’d played under the sprinkler. But Grandpa had gotten rid of the house after she died, and now he lived in the two-bedroom apartment above the hardware store, which was pretty much smack in the center of O’Leary.Unmissable.
Si opened the door and handed me up. “I'll get you where you need to go, Everett." Hewinked.
For once, I kept my mouthshut.
* * *
“How’s Hen doingwith his leg?” Si asked a few minutes later, when we were back on the road. “I haven’t been by to see him like I shouldhave.”
“My mother says he’s complaining about the doctor putting him in a cast when any fool could see it was just a bad bruise, and that the kid who’s been helping him in the shop isincompetentandweird.” I shrugged. “Sounds like he’s pretty much the same asever.”
Si winced. “Theo’s a goodkid.”
“Oh, no doubt,” I agreed. “I’m sure I’ll love him. We incompetent, weird kids have to sticktogether.”
“Uh. Your grandfather is…” Si began, in the careful, diplomatic tone people had used my whole life when trying to explain or excuse my grandfather’s behavior. But I was old enough to know some things couldn’t be explained or excusedaway.
“Is stuck in a time warp? Where girls are girls, and men are men? Where Adam and Steve are a crime against nature, and for the love of all that’s holy, don’t dare call their relationshipmarriage? Yeah. Iknow.”
Si frowned. “So why are youhere?”
That was a damn good question. One I’d asked myself a milliontimes.
“He needed someone to take care of him. Apparently, he’d had a lady helping him out, but he’s refusing to let her help him anymore. Maybe she’s incompetent and weird, too? Who knows.” I traced patterns on my leg with my index finger. “But my mother freaked out because he was all alone, and she can’t get away from work, so she basically guilted me into helping. She, uh, called some old friend of hers and found out there was an opening for an art teacher at the elementary school, then called Grandpa and told him to expectme.”
I debated saying more, mentioning Adrian and how my life had suddenly become so rootless and portable, but I never knew how to bring up the subject of Adrian, especially now. So instead, I turned my head and watched the little houses of O’Leary passby.
Si whistled long and low. “So you werevoluntoldtocome.”
“You might say that. But if Grandpa’s the worst I have to deal with, I can handle it. I accepted a contract with the school until June, and then I’ll head backeast.”
“Marking days like aconvict?”
Well… yes.I glanced over, worried I’d offended him, but found himsmiling.
“I’m telling you, the town might grow onyou.”
“Like afungus.”
“Exactly.”
He pulled to a stop in one of the diagonal parking spaces right in front of my grandfather’s store and hopped out, but this time I was too quick for him. I opened my own door and eased myself down before he could help me. He smirked like he knew what I was thinking and shook his head at me, then continued around to the back of the truck to get my stuff while I looked around at the town that was going to be my new —temporary—home.
In the darkness, it looked almost exactly as I rememberedit.
O’Leary Hardware was a two-story clapboard building, located almost in the center of Weaver Street, right between Marybeth’s Salon and Spa and a store that used to be simply called Nickerson’s Books, but was now called Nickerson’s Booksand More, maybe as a nod to the town having climbed out of the nineteenth century somewhere around the turn of the twenty-first.
But I had to admit, I was curious what themorewas.
