That cracked Angel up. “Well, I guess that’s true!”
Cary laughed, too. A little. He felt anxious. “I don’t want to take anything from her. Especially now.”
“I won’t say anything to Grandma. I never have. I’ve never even asked my mom about you—I don’t know whether Don knows...”
Cary nodded.
“My mom has your baby picture in her wallet,” Angel said. Begrudgingly.
Cary didn’t know what to say to that.
She went on—“I’ve never even seen a picture of myself from when I was a baby.”
“You were cute,” he offered. “You had tons of hair, and it was the color of cornsilk. You looked like Renny. Everywhere we went, people said you looked like a doll.”
Angel smiled at him. Then she looked down. “I’m not going to make this an issue with Grandma,” she said again. “But when it’s just the two of us... Or the next time you’re introducing me to a girlfriend...”
“There won’t be a next time,” Cary said. “There’s only Shiloh. And she already knows you’re my sister.”
Angel looked up at him. She wiped her nose on the back of her wrist. “I thought you were going to lie to me. Or try to deny it.”
“I won’t lie to you,” he said.
Shiloh had the kids that night, so Cary couldn’t stay over.
He waited for her to put them to bed—then collapsed on her, pushing her back onto the couch.
She didn’t ask him what was wrong. Just ran her fingers through his hair.
The next day was Sunday, and Shiloh came over to the house to help for a few hours. She left the kids with her mom. She brought Mikey.
Angel’s boyfriend came over, too. He was a real creep—but he got all the dog shit out of the backyard by noon, so that was something.
Seventy-Five
Lois’s old kitchen was nearly empty. Shiloh scanned the cupboards for something she could make everyone for lunch. There was white bread and canned tuna fish, and some pickles in the fridge. She ran home for mayonnaise and better bread and potato chips and watermelon.
She fed Angel’s kids first, then Angel and her boyfriend. Then she went to get Mikey and Cary.
They’d spent most of the morning cleaning out the back porch. When Shiloh walked out there, Mikey was trying to get Cary to tackle the basement with him.
“I checked it out,” Mikey said. “It’s a two-man job—there’s all this machinery and greasy shit... Fuckin’ Batman-villain territory. Like, Alan Moore Batman, you know?”
“Yeah...” Cary was frowning. He rubbed his face with his T-shirt. There was a picture of an aircraft carrier on the front. “I don’t know... Maybe not today.”
“But you’ve got me today,” Mikey said, holding out his arms.
“Yeah...” Cary shook his head. His jaw was locked, and his eyebrows were tense. He was squinting at nothing.
“Mikey, why don’tyoustart on the basement,” Shiloh suggested. “And I’ll help when I’m done in the kitchen.”
“No,” Cary said to Shiloh. “You stay up here.”
Mikey was looking back and forth between them. “I’ll just start on it now—I’m not hungry yet. I’ll clear a path.”
Shiloh took Cary by the wrist. “You, come wash your hands. I want to watch you eat.”
“You don’t trust me to eat?” He followed her to the sink.
