“Have you been working out or something?” Devon asked, staring at his friend.
CJ grinned, shrugged like he was embarrassed. “Ma got an evening shift cleaning the high school, and they have a weight room for the football players.”
“You’ve been lifting weights?”
“Uh, yeah.” CJ’s smile was even wider now. “Not only that, but my Ma’s new boss happens to be in charge of the football program, and I heard that Big Ty might be up for some scholarship—if he can keep his nose clean and play for them.”
Devon raised his eyebrows. “That’s some gamble.”
CJ gave him a sideways smile. “I ran into him once or twice over at the gym, lifting. Turns out we lift about the same range. Big Ty isn’t such a big deal.”
Devon covered his mouth, his shoulders shaking as they started to laugh.
“Man, CJ, you must have nerves of steel.”
“Well, I also noticed that.”
CJ pointed, and Devon looked over to see a plain black car parked in the lot next to a house two doors down. He peered closer, saw what looked to be two undercover officers inside.
“You’re good.”
CJ laughed as they got on their bikes, pedaled off down the street toward his house.
“You know what? I sure am.”
???
When Devon got home an hour later, he was surprised to see Memaw sitting in the reclining chair in front of the TV set. She still had her blue robe on, but a glass of ice water with a straw was sitting on the little table beside her, and she had her feet up and was doing a crossword puzzle. It was almost like that whole dark spell, when she’d been sick and T and his friends were there and everything had turned upside down, had never even happened at all.
He grinned at her, gave her a peck as he set his backpack down. “Hey, Memaw.”
She smiled back at him over her reading glasses.
“How’s my sweet boy?”
“You know what, Memaw? Awesome!” And right then and there he plopped on the edge of the sofa and filled her in on CJ and what had happened that afternoon, which he still wasn’t onehundred percent certain had actually even occurred, and the latest at camp, and the new Voices from James Watkins series, and even Miss Becca herself.
“You’d love her, Memaw.”
Memaw’s eyes were bright as she listened. “Well, bring her ’round. I hope to meet this Miss Becca of yours.”
“I sure will.”
Memaw reached over, squeezed his hand. “I don’t tell you enough how good you do my heart,” she said softly. “After your Mama passed on, I was so worried you’d lose your light, sweet boy. Oh, how I worried.”
Devon squeezed her hand back, saw moisture fill her eyes and threaten to spill.
“Aw, Memaw, you don’t have to worry about me.”
“Sugar, I do anyway.” She sniffled, felt around in her bathrobe pocket for a tissue, which she used to blow her nose. “That light of yours, it reminds me so much of your Mama’s. You have such a beautiful, kind spirit in you. The spirit of the Lord, I like to say.”
He swallowed, felt his throat start to burn, but in a good way.
“I love you, Memaw.”
“I love you, too, child.”
They sat that way a few moments, listening to the birds outside, listening to a delivery truck roar by, and then he glanced up, realized it was nearly five thirty and time to start supper.
