Page 19 of Caged Bird

Like once Eddie’s evil had touched you, it was impossible to get rid of.

I followed the sounds of clinking pots and rustling shopping bags along a short hall and to the right I found the kitchen, Fawn moving around it briskly, a couple of steaks sizzling on a hot pan. She twisted a pepper grinder over the top of the meat, seasoning it with her bottom teeth pressed into her lip.

Otis sat at the table, devouring a sandwich that was as big as his head.

Fawn stiffened as I walked past her but said nothing, only twisted the grinder harder.

I washed my hands in the sink, noticing an abandoned carrot on a chopping board. On instinct, I picked up where she’d left off, sliding the peeler along the outer layer to remove it.

Fawn knocked it from my fingers.

I blinked at her in surprise.

“Go on out with your brother. You don’t need to be in here.” Her tone was crisp. Cold.

Nothing like the smiling, friendly woman she’d once been.

“I don’t mind.” I reached for the peeler again.

She picked it up before I could get my fingers to it. “I don’t need your help, Zane.” She paused, not looking up at me. “Not in the kitchen.”

“I wasn’t trying to imply you couldn’t do it yourself,” I said quietly.

She yanked the dull blade down the carrot with sharp, jerky movements. “Like I said, I don’t need you in here. Go on out with Eddie. I’ll bring your steaks in a minute.”

I picked up a cucumber and sliced it instead.

Fawn dropped the peeler and stared up at me, her dark eyes huge. “Why are you doing this?”

“Helping you? Because it’s polite.”

She shook her head, a nervous glance at the kitchen door, or perhaps more accurately, the living room beyond it. Eddie hadn’t come back inside yet, but he wasn’t far away, his overbearing voice filtering through from outside as he talked on the phone with someone.

“Please, just go on back to your brother. If you really want to help, just—”

The front screen door slammed, and Eddie bellowed through the house. “Zane! Where the fuck are you?”

Otis picked up his sandwich and took off in the opposite direction, disappearing into the backyard.

Fawn pressed her lips together and picked up a salad bowl.

But this time, there was a shake in her fingers.

A squeak of couch springs came from the living room, accompanied by a long, pained groan from Eddie. “Zane!”

Fawn implored me with huge eyes, panic behind them. She reached around me and pulled open the refrigerator. She took two cans of cold beer, ones that had obviously been in there a lot longer than the cans I’d picked up for Eddie in town after we’d left the hospital. She shoved them into my hands and nudged me toward the door. “Go on!”

Her demand was a whispered shout.

But I couldn’t make my feet move. “Are you okay?”

She turned away and hustled back to the chopping board. “Of course I am.”

Without thinking, I set the beer down and grabbed her arm, forcing her to face me.

She gasped at the touch. Probably because my fingers were cold from the beer.

But the one I stifled was because touching her had always felt like electricity shooting up from my fingertips.

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