“Um,yeah.” I felt the tips of my ears heat up. “You’re going God knows where to fight God knows who. Of course I’mworried.”
Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “Quit stalling, and give me yournumber.”
He had his cell phone poised in his hands. It was unlocked, so I lifted it from his fingers, created a new contact, and typed in mynumber.
“Don’t run too wild, allright?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Youtoo.”
I felt all torn up over his departure. Ten years my senior, August Watt had been like a big brother to me way back when. He’d taught me to play backgammon while our parents had never-ending meals. He’d taught me to climb my first tree. He’d walked with me to the ice-cream parlor, and when the weather was crap, he’d collect me from school in hispickup.
Before good sense could knock into me, I hooked my arms around his neck and pressed my cheek against his chest, against the heart that beat there, strong andsteady.
“Thank you for being nice to me. Since I came back, but also during all those years before Ileft.”
For a second he didn’t move, but then his arms wound around me and pulled me in tight. “Don’t ever thank someone for being nice. Especially notme.”
We stayed locked together until one of the dryers beeped so incessantly I broke the embrace to power the machineoff.
“Keep in touch, okay?” His voice was a littlethick.
I raised a paltry smile—the best I could muster. “I’d need your number forthat.”
He pressed on his phone’s screen, and my cell phone startedringing.
“Pick up,” hesaid.
I frowned. “Okay.” I swiped my phone off the top of a pile of clean sheets, then slid my finger across the screen. When I saw him raise the phone to his ear, I raised minetoo.
“Hey,” he said, and then he winked and turned around, disappearing the way he came. “What are you upto?”
Silly. This was so silly. But it got me smiling. “Laundry.”
“That’s always code for somethingelse.”
“Is it?” I laughed. “What’s it codefor?”
“Everyone knows what it’s codefor.”
I touched my navel, which suddenly felt tight and hot. “Enlighten me, why don’tyou?”
* * *
That night,just as I was falling asleep, a knock resounded softly through my bedroom. Since the pack had left, I imagined it would be Everest, but as I walked toward the door, I smelled menthol and bacongrease.
Evelyn.
Had she come to tell me she was leaving? My heart thumped as I drew open the door. Hugging her arms, she stood in the darkened corridor, her face free of her usual heap of makeup. The red rims of her eyes told me she’d beencrying.
Myfault.
Myselfishfault.
She pressed her arms tighter in front of the plush black bathrobe Mom had given her for Christmas a few years back. To avoid parting with it, Evelyn had mended almost every seam. Would she impart on our relationship the same treatment she’d given herrobe?
As her eyes raked over the bruises marring my skin, she pursed herlips.
I wanted to explain, but when I opened my mouth, a tiny sob lurched out instead. Evelyn’s arms came loose, and then they laced around me. She pulled me against her chest, combing my hair back as I soaked the fluffy fabric with mytears.
