“My friend Cary.”
“Cary! He’s home from the ocean?”
“Cary?” Gus repeated.
“Yeah,” Shiloh said.
“Mommy,” Gus said. “You friend is named Cary?”
“Yep. And he’s coming to dinner.”
“Well,” Junie said, folding her hands in her lap. “I can’t wait to see him.”
Cary was late. Shiloh fed the kids and her mom—who had come home from the bar in a terrible mood.
“Whatis taking Cary so long?” Junie wondered. She hadn’t ever mentioned the almost-kiss on the porch again. Even when Shiloh showed her Cary’s photos and postcards.
“Mommy?” Gus said. “You friend is coming?”
“Coming,”Cary texted.“Sorry.”
A half hour later, Shiloh heard his voice outside. It sounded like he was arguing with someone. She peeked out the window. Cary was standing by his car, on the phone—shouting.
“Stay inside,” she told Junie. Shiloh went out through the porch.
“Jackie—” Cary was holding his forehead. “Jackie, you know that’s not true... That’s not true!”
He was walking in a circle. He saw Shiloh.
She waved.
Cary nodded at her, then looked away—then looked back at her, distracted and troubled.
Shiloh waved again, like,It’s okay, keep talking.
“What other options?” Cary said into the phone, more calmly than before. “Tell me the other options.”
He glanced back at Shiloh like he wanted to say something to her. But then he was shouting into the phone—“No— No—Jackie. This is reality! This is all we can do!”
A car was driving past Shiloh’s house. It stopped. The woman in the passenger seat rolled down her window and yelled, “You planned this!”
It took a second for Shiloh to clock the woman as Cary’s older sister Jackie. (His biological mom.)
Cary was still holding the phone. He looked shocked. “Did youfollowme?”
“No, but I knew where to find you! I’m not letting you do this, Cary!”
Cary was walking toward the car. “It’s notme! You heard the social worker—Mom can’t get Medicaid until she sells the house. That’s it! That’s reality!”
“You don’t even care!”
“Idocare.”
Jackie leaned farther out the window, rising out of her seat. She was about fifty, and she looked a lot like Lois. There was a man driving the car, also leaning toward the open window.
“You’ve got money!” Jackie shouted. “You’ve got a job! Angel has nothing!”
“This isn’t about Angel,” Cary said.
