They focused on getting coffee and dessert ready for a few more minutes, and Evangeline quickly threw the empty green beans cans and the glass gravy jar in the recycling and tidied up as best she could. The counter was tiny, so she could only do about a sink full of dishes before stopping to dry.
“Quit that,” Rory told her as soon as he noticed. “I’ll get it all later. Just enjoy the day.”
“This is part of enjoying the day,” she told him. “Remember when Mrs. Jones came for Thanksgiving and she cleaned the whole kitchen?”
“I thought Grandpa Pete was going to propose,” Rory laughed.
He’d always seemed to have a bit of a crush on the widow across the street. Now they were both gone.
“I’m so glad your friends are still around,” Evangeline told him. She couldn’t live with herself staying in that Society Hill attic if it meant Rory was alone.
“Well, Rooster’s pretty happy to have your room for now,” Rory said.
“I know,” she told him, smiling. “He keeps sayingRooster in the Henhouse,and winking at me.”
Rory laughed and rolled his eyes.
Grandpa used to call their row homeThe Henhousebecause Grandma ruled the roost, and that was just how he liked it. Even after she passed, he liked to say they were just keeping the henhouse warm for her.
“He might not be around forever though,” Rory said. “He mentioned he was stopping by the recruiter’s office next week.”
“Wow,” she said. “That’s really amazing. Good for Rooster.”
The military was a great option for guys like him, who might not have a lot of good work opportunities on the table, especially with the way the neighborhood was going. But Rory was going to miss his best friend, so it was bittersweet news.
The doorbell rang before they could continue the conversation. A quick buzz and then a bunch of longer ones, like the person downstairs was in a real hurry.
“I’ve got it,” Rory said, hurrying out of the kitchen.
Evangeline went back to the window and peeked out the curtain at the front walk.
What she saw sent a shiver down her spine.
Like any place, their neighborhood had its good elements and its bad ones, and the Vagabonds were definitely the bad ones. The group of local guys called themselves a motorcycle club but Evangeline thought of them as more of a gang of thugs and low-level criminals. And with the legitimate jobs drying up, more and more of the young men like Rooster and her brother were joining up with them. Once you were accepted, sporting the trademark “V” tattoo on your neck was basically a ticket to do whatever you wanted, and for Evangeline, it was a sign to steer clear.
On this holiday, she was thankful for a lot of things, but especially that the gang had never managed to get its hooks into Rory.
Right now, three of the members stood on the front sidewalk. One member that was built like a refrigerator flicked a cigarette butt into the street as they waited. Another, with a shaved head, held the handlebars of a motorcycle but wasn’t riding, as if he had walked it over to the garage for repair.
She said a silent prayer that Rory would just ignore them. But a moment later, her brother appeared on the street. He talked to the men for a moment before taking the bike and heading into the garage with it.
Evangeline ran out of the kitchen, through the thicket of Rory’s friends in the living room, and down the stairs to the garage.
“Eva, what the heck?” Rory said as she burst in the door from the steps.
He was bent over, securing the garage door to the street.
The bike stood at the center of the space.
“You’re not working for them, are you?” Evangeline asked quietly, hoping there was some other explanation.
Rory just gazed back at her for a moment, a sad expression in his eyes.
The garage had always been a sort of safe haven. Evangeline loved every corner of it. Tools hung from pegboards on the walls, labeled in Grandpa Pete’s careful handwriting. There were shelves of old glass baby food jars that held washers, bolts, screws, nails, and other odds and ends that could be used for handy projects.
If she ever caught the light scent of oil and gas anywhere else, it always brought her right back to all her memories here with Rory and Grandpa Pete, helping to fetch tools and rags, or bringing down cups of Dr. Pepper when it was a hot day or they had a big project.
But the motorcycle in the center of the floor wiped away all of those happy memories and left her feeling shaky.
