“Ichooseto entertain guests elsewhere in order to keep the peace,” I say, turning the corner toward the elevator bank.“For example, in your bed.”
She stands on her toes and I kiss her.
“If I don’t hear from you within forty-eight hours, I’ll assume you’ve been forced into a re-education camp and report you missing,” she says.
“Thanks,” I say.
She gets on the elevator and I walk back to my room.I’m not looking forward to this.I knew it had to happen sometime, but I wasplanningon telling my parents tomorrow, with words, instead of just letting my mom find Clementine half-naked, in my bed, and probably reeking of sex.
My mom’s sitting in the armchair, her hands clasped on her crossed knees, staring distantly at a wall.I take a deep breath and lean against the sink.
“I’m not working at the dude ranch this winter,” I say.“I’m moving to Lodgepole.”
“Do you have a job there?”
“Not yet.”
I decided this three days ago,I think, but I don’t say it out loud.
“A place to stay?”
Here we go.
“I’m staying with Clementine until I get my own place,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
My mom looks at me for a long, long time.Then she stands slowly and puts her purse on her shoulder.
“I know you think I don’t like her because she led you into sin,” she says.
“Mom, you know that?—”
She holds up one hand and goes on, talking over me.
“That girl used you and then tossed you aside the moment things got a little difficult,” she says.
“That’s not what happened.”
“Well, that’s sure what it looked like,” she says.“Hunter, you’re grown, and I can’t stop you, but I can tell you to think twice before making the exact same mistakes that you did before.”
“I’m not.”
The expression on her face says that she doesn’t believe me, even a little bit, but I know when arguing is pointless.When we broke up before, it’s not like I gave them a detailed account of everything that went down.They just know that I joined the military, she went to college, and six months later I told them she dumped me.
“Call when you’re getting discharged,” she says.“I brought you some clothes, and I’ll come pick you up.”
She points to a chair, where there’s a neat stack.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say.
She steps forward and kisses me on the cheek, then leaves without saying anything else.
Three days later,I park my shitty, old truck outside Clementine’s house, grab my duffel bag, and walk up her porch steps.She pulls the door open before I can even knock and for a moment we both stand there, grinning like idiots.
Then a ball of yellow-and-white fur shoves past Clementine, nearly knocking her over, and jumps up, both paws right on my stomach.
“Oof!”I say, caught by surprise.
“Trout, getdown,” Clementine says.
