Page 14 of The Overnight Guest

“A man. In a truck,” Josie said, trying to catch her breath. “Down the gravel road.”

“Was he bothering you?” Lynne asked, taking in the girls’ bright red, sweaty faces. “Are you okay?”

The girls nodded. “He was just sitting there, staring,” Becky said.

“But he didn’t say anything or do anything?” Lynne asked.

“No,” Josie admitted, “but it was weird.”

“It’s probably nothing. Just one of the neighbors checking their crops,” Lynne assured them. “Now come on inside and get something cold to drink.”

They trooped into the kitchen and Lynne pulled a pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator. “You didn’t happen to see Ethan while you were out there?” Lynne asked as she poured them each a glass. She was trying to be casual, but there was a lilt of worry in her voice.

“Not since earlier,” Josie said, taking a big drink.

Lynne pressed her hands against the counter and craned her neck to look out the window above the sink. “That boy,” she let out a weary breath. “Do you know what’s been going on with him?” she asked, turning back to face Josie. Her eyes were troubled.

Josie shrugged.

“It’s that jerk Cutter probably,” Becky said and Josie kicked her beneath the table.

“Yeah,” Lynne murmured.

“We’re going to go upstairs,” Josie said, taking her glass to the sink.

“I know you’ll probably end up talking all night but don’t stay up too late,” Lynne reminded them. “We want to be on the road by six tomorrow.”

“Okay. ’Night, Mom,” Josie said, but Lynne stopped her by tugging gently on her ponytail. “Not so fast,” she said. “Don’t tell me you’re too big to give me a hug and kiss good-night too, are you?”

Josie peeked over at Becky, who was waiting in the doorway, intently examining her fingernails. Looking back, Josie wished that she would have given her mother a long embrace. That she would have taken the time to remember the tickle of her mother’s curtain of hair tumbling over her as she pulled Josie close. But she didn’t. Josie gave her a quick hug and slipped away before her mother could kiss her forehead like she usually did each night.

“Good night, Dad,” she hollered as they hurried past the living room and tromped up the stairs.

“G’night,” he called groggily. Later, Josie would say she wished she would have taken the time to go to him, leaned into him as he lay back in his shabby recliner, felt his evening whiskers rasp against her face and said good-night.

The girls unfurled their sleeping bags and lay atop them. The heat pressed down on them like a thick quilt.

From below, there was canned laughter from the television and soft footfalls in the kitchen, then the rev of a truck and the crackle of tires on gravel. They talked about the fair, about the upcoming school year, about boys. Becky asked if Ethan had a girlfriend. Josie said he did, though this wasn’t true. There had been trouble with a girl and no one since, but Becky didn’t need to know that.

The conversation turned to music and movies and the box fan blew recycled air across their bodies. Words slowed and eyes grew heavy.

A slam of a door made Josie startle and Becky gave a frightened gasp.

A jumble of voices rose and fell.

“Where have you been?” William snapped. There was a muttered response and tromping on the stairs. “You don’t get to just come and go as you please,” William went on. “Especially carrying a shotgun around. Hand it over now.”

“You made me leave the truck,” Ethan shot back. “Like I’m going to leave it in there. Besides, we’re stuck out in the middle of nowhere out here,” Ethan yelled.

“I asked you where you were,” William said tightly. There was silence then, and Josie imagined that her father and Ethan were staring each other down.

Ethan finally spoke. “I was at the pond, okay? Where else would I even go?”

“Nowhere for a very long time,” William shot back.

“Like I go anywhere now,” Ethan snapped. They were outside Josie’s bedroom door now.

“Shhh,” came Lynne’s voice. “You’ll wake the girls.”

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