from the back of the seat.
After another rotation, the wheel stopped and the attendant unhooked the safety bar. They both got off the ride without a word and walked off the deck.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,” he said.
She was still feeling strange, sort of buzzed and prickly. “Okay.”
But he didn’t leave. “My dad is around the corner, waiting,” he explained. “I want to spare you whatever it is he might say.”
“Okay.”
And still he didn’t go. “And it’s going to get dark soon.”
“And you don’t want to grow fur and fangs in front of me,” she said. “I get it.”
His dark hair was curling in the humidity. He ran his hands through it. “No, I don’t think you do.”
“Then explain it to me. Tell me these strange and wondrous things.”
That made him smile, like it was exactly what he wanted to hear, like he’d been planning this all along. “I will. Next time.” He turned to leave.
“Wait,” she called, and he stopped. “I need to ask you something.”
“What is it?”
She decided to come right out and say it. “Do you blame me for what my mother did?”
“Of course not,” he said immediately.
“But your father does.”
He hesitated. “I can’t speak for him.”
“My grandfather told me that my mom got angry because the Coffeys wouldn’t let her into their social circle, and that’s why she did what she did.”
“That’s how the story goes,” he said. His eyes bored into her with a sudden and intense curiosity.
She pushed her hair behind her ears, and his eyes followed the movement. “I just want you to know that… I’m not mad.”
“Excuse me?”
“That your family doesn’t like me. I understand why. And I’m not mad.”
“Oh, Emily,” he said.
“What?”
“You’re making this very hard.”
“What? Leaving?”
“That too. Next time?”
She nodded. She liked that, the continuance, the anticipation. What would he do? What would he say? She was too enamored of him, too fascinated. But she couldn’t seem to help it. She wanted to fit in here, and he made her feel like she did.
“Next time,” she said as he walked away.
EMILY MET Julia by the bandstand as promised, and she could tell that both their moods had changed since they’d last been together. They bought Grandpa Vance a barbecue sandwich and a fried pickle, then headed home. Neither of them was particularly chatty.
Julia said a distracted goodbye when they reached Grandpa Vance’s house. Emily watched her walk away. Something was definitely on her mind.
When Emily walked into the house, she knocked on the wall beside the accordion door to Vance’s bedroom. “Grandpa Vance, I’m home.”
When he opened the door, she caught her first glimpse of his bedroom, which had obviously once been the living room.
The curtains were drawn over the windows to keep the heat out, but the light through the rust-colored material cast a glow of permanent sunset over the room. The room looked like it should smell stuffy, but there was actually a very faint scent of sweet perfume lingering in the air, as if a woman had left only moments before.
There were rows upon rows of photographs on the shelves on the far wall, older photos of the same woman, a pretty woman with blond hair and Emily’s mother’s smile. That must be her grandmother Lily. Where were the photos of her mother, she wondered. Did he have any?
She held up the foil-wrapped food. “I brought you some stuff from the festival.”
“Wonderful! I think I’ll eat in the kitchen. Will you join me?” He led the way. As soon as they reached the kitchen, Vance went directly to the laundry room. Emily heard the dryer door open, then close. Then Vance walked back out. “So, how did you like our little barbecue shindig?”
Emily smiled. “It wasn’t little at all.”
“What did you and Julia do?” He went to the breakfast nook and sat, absently rubbing his knees as if they ached.
“Wandered around. Ate too much. She bought me this T-shirt.” Emily walked over to him and placed the food on the table, then sat opposite him. She brought the T-shirt out of the small bag she’d been carrying.
“Ha! That’s a good one,” Vance said as he read what was on the shirt. “Did you see any kids your age?”
Emily hesitated before she said, “Just Win Coffey.”
“Well, it is their festival,” he said as he unwrapped his food and began to eat. “You need to meet some other people your age. As I recall, my friend Lawrence Johnson has a grandson… in middle school, I think.”
Confused, Emily said, “Do you think he’d want me to babysit?”
“Yes, I guess that is a little young for you,” Vance said. “It’s only July. School doesn’t start until next month, and you’re going to get bored.” He suddenly looked worried. “That friend of your mother’s, Merry, said she would take care of getting you registered and your class credits transferred. Do you think I should check the school, just in case?”
Emily had been so focused on what was going on here, she hadn’t given Merry much thought lately. That startled her. “Merry probably handled everything. She’s very detail-oriented, just like Mom.” Emily looked down to the T-shirt in her lap. “Mom helped found the school I went to. Did you know that?”
He nodded. “Merry and I had a long talk. Your mother had a remarkable life. Merry told me a lot about you, too. She said you were involved in a lot of activities.”
Emily shrugged. Her old life felt so bound and heavy now. “They were school requirements.”
“I bet there are a lot of activities you can get involved in here. Lots of stuff you can do at night.”
She knew what he was doing, being about as subtle as an eight-foot-tall man. He didn’t want her associating with Win. She understood why. At the same time, she wondered if she could change this, if the reason she came here, in the whole scheme of things, was to make this right. Like her mother said,
After Grandpa Vance ate, he got up and threw the food wrappers away. Then he went back to the laundry room to check the dryer.
She couldn’t stand it any longer. She had to know. When he came back out, she slid out of her seat in the breakfast nook and asked, “Why do you do that? Check the dryer so often?”
He laughed and gave her a sly look. “I was wondering when you’d ask,” he said. He walked to the refrigerator and took out two green bottles of
