“You said you need to call the gutter guys, what happened?”
“Nothing, they’re just due to be cleaned.”
“Do they also do pressure washing?”
“I’m not sure. I can ask.”
“Because the patio needs to be pressure washed,” Nora said.
Doug grunted. Another silence fell. Carver looked at his phone, found everything on it uninteresting, and put it away again before finishing his coffee. The only sound coming from outside was a few birds singing in the distance.
Then he heard it: a motorcycle revving up the street.
“Ugh,” Nora said, rolling her eyes, at the same time that Doug muttered, “Obnoxious.”
Carver wasn’t listening to them. His entire body had just stiffened. He checked his watch. Scott said the tow truck was leaving around 9:30, and it was 9:22 now. He was probably about to head out.
Carver wanted to go with him. It was an overwhelming feeling, like an allergic reaction; his lips tingled and his chest got tight. He wanted to go with him to Hoboken, or wherever. He didn’t want to be left behind in Bitterfeld. Even if he couldn’t go, he wanted to see him again, he wanted to see him before he left.
Without really thinking about it, he slipped out of the breakfast nook and bolted into the hallway. He heard Doug exclaim, “What?” and Nora reply, “Oh,that’swho it is.”
Carver jammed his feet into a pair of slides on his way out and bolted out the door, slamming it behind him and racing into the bright morning. Mrs. Jeffries from across the street was out checking the mail, and she shouted some greeting to him as he ran by. He shouted hello in return, racing by her and up onto the sidewalk on her side of the street. He sprinted flat-out for Josie’s, running for the sheer hell of it, his feet nearly coming outof the slides. One of his parents’ other neighbors, out walking his dog, jumped out of his way and said, “Hey!”
He shouted an apology over his shoulder but didn’t slow down; in fact he sped up. He was rounding the corner, he was more than halfway there, and he could now hear the motorcycle’s engine idling, which thrilled him. He wouldn’t be too late.
Finally he spotted the edge of Josie and Hank’s yard, and the broken-down black van in the driveway. The tow truck wasn’t even here yet. Carver slowed to a jog as he approached, and then a walk. On the other side of the van was Scott, resplendent in his black leather pants and jacket and straddling Letty’s bike, adjusting its handlebars.
“Hey,” Carver said, and Scott’s head shot up. He wasn’t panting — according to his Garmin he had a VO2 max of 54 — but he was definitely pink and exerted. He put on what he hoped was a winning smile.
“Hey,” Scott said, sounding surprised, and reached down to cut the engine. “What’s up, man?”
“Ah, nothing. Just wanted to see you off.”
“I wasn’t sure if you were coming,” Scott said. “I was gonna text you, but…”
“Yeah, I, uh, heard the bike.”
“Oh, shit, you could hear it from down there?”
“Yeah, my parents were bitching.”
Scott winced comically as if he didn’t actually feel that bad, then shook his hair back like he was one of Charlie’s Angels.
“Are you leaving once the tow truck gets here?” Carver said.
“Yeah, I want to see it off.”
“Okay.” Carver leaned forward and gripped Scott’s handlebars, and Scott looked him up and down. His heart was pounding. “Can I be very honest with you right now?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Carver made eye contact with Scott, and Scott’s eyes softened.
“I want to come with you,” he said. “I want you to take me with you.” Scott opened his mouth, and Carver talked over him: “Just for a few days. Just for the next few days. I just can’t be here anymore, and there’s nowhere else I want to go, and I think you’re right that I shouldn’t be alone —”
“I was gonna ask,” Scott interrupted him. “I was gonna — last night, I was going to ask you. But I pussied out.”
“Okay,” Carver said, his heart pounding harder.
