“After you think a little more . . . ?” I wasn’t stupid. She was trying her best to figure it all out, and I was probably going to regret this little game.
“Deal?”
I stifled a groan. How could I not accept? At least whatever the hell was going on was too complicated to be summed up in one word. When the Bronc lurched forward again, she kept my hand in hers.
The wind was picking up, tossing the tops of the tall pines and showing the silver undersides of the birch leaves. A spring hurricane was rare, and this would be the earliest I could remember. Might get a few twisters. Maybe I should take the screens off the windows. Wouldn’t stop a tornado from sideswiping the house, but at least they wouldn’t blow off into the marsh. Not much else I could do other than round-up Pebbles. Luckily, we didn’t have porch furniture to worry with . . .
Eileen spotted the truck first. “Adam!”
“Oh, no!” Cara.
“Geez, relax. He just wants to know why you’re avoiding him.”
“I haven’t—”
“Mom. When you call, you only talk to him for like half a second before you ask for Cara. He’s probably worried he offended you or something.”
I swallowed the rest of my protest. Knowing Eileen could overhear, I’d been extremely careful in what I said to Cara. And, apparently, extremely careless with how little I said to Adam.
He was sitting mid way up the porch steps, and I gave a friendly wave as I maneuvered past his Ford to park under the house. A stack of plywood sheets leaned sideways in the truck bed. Seemed like old-school storm prep for a builder’s house.
Eileen bounded out of the truck and up the steps. “I missed you!”
“Missed you, too, kid! The puppies have been whining nonstop!”
I yanked the key from the ignition and walked around the back end of the Bronco, looking up to see them grinning at each other like two kindred spirits. They even looked alike somehow. Not literally, with her flaxen curls and his dark hair . . . but there was something. Something about the way they both tipped their heads slightly to the right when they were smiling. My gaze relaxed for a second, and Adam’s dancing host of angels sparked into view. Just as on the first day I’d met him, they were joyously vibrating and swirling around him—and now Eileen, too.
“Huh.” I cleared my throat and tried again. “Swallowed wrong. Hello!”
Eileen rolled her eyes—never one to miss a lie—but Adam met me halfway on the steps with a big smile. I wasn’t prepared for his angels to follow and embrace me in their swirl, too, and my expression must’ve given it away.
“Seeing things as usual?” he stage-whispered, making Eileen giggle.
Unfortunately. “Is Cara okay?”
“She’s sleeping. Hasn’t been a good day.” His eyes tightened, and he looked away for a moment. Getting a handle on his emotions. I was learning his quirks, too.
“I’m so sorry . . . I was going to call her again tonight . . . ” Call her and pretend to be a friend.
“It’s meant a lot to her.”
My chest felt like it was being pressed between boards.
“Come inside!” Eileen—blessedly—demanded his attention again, and I was able to suck in a deep breath. “We have chairs, you know. Wanna stay for dinner?”
“Wish I could, but I’ll eat with Cara later.”
“Why’d you come, then?”
Adam laughed. “You remind me of one of my platoon mates.” When she blushed, he was quick to add, “Never let anyone get away with anything unless he was the one to plan it.”
Her blush turned into a smirk. “He must’ve been a super-genius, too.”
“Yeah, kid, he was.” His voice caught slightly on the last word, and Eileen’s smile faded.
“Leeni, your bookbag.”
“Yeah, sure . . . ”
Once I heard the truck door open, I spoke softly, “I’m so sorry. For you and Cara, both. Trent must’ve been a really special person.”
“She told you?”
I nodded. “That you were friends. Your picture was on the nightstand.”
“Oh.”
His disappointment confused me. “So . . . you’re going to board up your windows?” I gestured to his load of plywood, but he looked past me to Eileen lugging her bookbag up the stairs.
“Lots of homework, kid?”
“Yeah, but I did most of it at the shop. I just have to write a few more notecards for science.”
“Good girl.” He turned back to me and shrugged. “The plywood’s for your house. If you want it.”
My eyebrows shot up. How in the world was I going to cut and hang those big sheets? “Mmm . . . thank you . . . ?” I tried to sound more sincere. “That was thoughtful. Really. I don’t usually bother, but it’s probably a good idea . . . ”
He glanced at Eileen.
“Cool! I’ll help!”
“It’s up to your mom, kid. She might not want a bunch of holes in the trim.” Now he grinned openly at me.
“Just say thank you, Mom.”
“Adam, I can’t let you do all that! Besides, it’s only a two.”
He shrugged again. “They’re expecting it to be a three by morning. Oh, and school was canceled. No notecards.”
“Awesome. I’ll show you where the ladder is.”
“But Cara needs y—”
“This’ll only take an hour. I already measured and cut.” He reddened and shifted his weight. “I hope you don’t really mind. I just thought—”
“Of course we don’t mind,” Eileen assured him. “It’s very nice of you. The next time you need help, we’d love to return the favor.”
My daughter’s polite reply didn’t need to be ruined by my hang-ups, and with my teeth clamped to the inside of my cheek, I couldn’t open my mouth, anyway. So while he and Eileen retrieved the ladder from under the house, I hurried to change into jeans and my old running shoes. I grabbed a t-shirt from the bottom of the stack and tugged it on, twisting my hair up into a knotted bun as I went back outside. They were already on the porch organizing, placing each plywood sheet near its corresponding window.
Working as a team, we moved from window to window, with Eileen holding the ladder steady while I lifted the wood up
