“I need to get a money order,” Lois explained. She was more breathless when she was walking. She wore her oxygen canister in a bag over her arm.
Shiloh went to the front passenger door. Cary brought his mom over to help her in. It was slow going.
“Are you coming, too?” Shiloh asked Cary.
He nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll just have to move their car seats.”
“Oh. I wasn’t thinking...”
“Hello, angels,” Lois said, looking into the back seat.
Shiloh opened Junie’s door to try to figure everything out.
Cary was right behind her. “I can just sit between them.”
“I don’t know,” Shiloh said. “It’s pretty tight.”
“It’s a short trip. I mean—” He looked at her. “This is your car and your kids, sorry.”
“If you want to try...”
Cary turned to Junie, who was riveted by his sudden appearance.
“Suck in your legs,” he said, and climbed over her.
“Oh my lord,” Junie said.
Cary was hovering over the back seat, moving books and toys off the narrow strip between the boosters.
“I’m so sorry,” Shiloh said. “Sweep all that on the floor. Are you—”
He wedged himself between the seats, his body at an angle. “I’m in, I’m fine.”
She laughed a little. “I’m not sure you’re getting out.”
“Oh mylord,” Junie said again, in case they hadn’t heard her the first time. She was making her eyes huge.
“Okay,” Shiloh said, closing the door. By the time she got around to the front, Junie was introducing herself.
“I’m Juniper, and that’s my brother, Gus.”
“Juniper—what a beautiful name,” Lois said. “I’m Mrs. Cass. But you can call me Grandma Lois, everybody does.”
“You can call me Junie.”
“And that’s my baby boy,” Lois said, “Cary.”
Junie looked like she was pretending to try not to laugh, with her hand over her mouth. “Cary isn’t a boy’s name!”
“It’s my name,” Cary said.
Junie raised her eyebrows into her hairline. She had Groucho Marx eyebrows, just like Shiloh. All she needed was a cigar.
“Mom banks at Commercial Federal,” Cary said to Shiloh. “Is there one on the way?”
“I like the one on Saddle Creek,” Lois said.
