Page 81 of The Fix-Up

Silence. A long, long silence. Eerie silence. The sort of silence I knew did not bode well.

“Oliver?” I put a little growl in my voice.

“I took the key out,” he said and quickly added, “but I have it safe. I didn’t lose it or nothing. And don’t worry, I brushed my teef and I locked all the doors in the house and made sure the kittens had food and water, and I’ll go right to sleep so you don’t have to worry about me and you’ll see, in the morning, you’ll come out and be in love and be boyfriend and girlfriend. Ollie tolded me that was the plan.”

I laid my hand on the door. “Oliver Lucas Sterns, we talked about this. Ollie is in Heaven. He couldn’t have told you that.”

“But he did,” Oliver insisted.

“It is not okay to make up stories.”

“I’m not making it up. Ollie tolded me about Mr. Gil.”

“Oliver, you need to open this door immediately,” Gil said. The grumpiness in his voice needed its own zip code.

“I can’t, Mr. Gil. I promised Ollie. And a man’s word is his promise, right? That’s what the Man Club motto is.”

I glared at Gil. “You had to start a stupid club with him, didn’t you?”

“I’m going to bed now. Love you, Mommy. Night.”

“Open this door. Now. Do you hear me?” I pressed my forehead against the door.

“I cannot believe this,” Gil said.

I turned and held out my hand. “Give me your phone.”

“I don’t have my phone.”

“Of course you do.”

“I don’t. It’s in my room. Use your phone.”

I could picture it right now sitting on the kitchen counter with my purse. “I don’t have it on me.”

“We’re phoneless?” He gave the door one more yank. “And we’re stuck.”

I took a deep breath, determined I would not panic. It wasn’t that big of a deal. It could be worse. I could be locked in a room with Gilbert Dalton while he was wearing his toolbelt and cuddling kittens and have to talk myself out of mauling him.

That wouldn’t be bad either, a voice said in my head. Not bad at all.

Neither of us spoke. I felt his eyes on my face but when I turned, he looked away. This was awkward. We were two grown adult humans who could weather the course for a few hours locked up in a room together. It would be a breeze, all things considered.

“So, Jungle Cat Dropouts,” I said. “Please tell me they did a cover of ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight.’ Maybe ‘Eye of the Tiger.’ Oh, I know, I know. ‘Welcome to the Jungle.’”

With a groan, Gil threw himself on the bed and pulled a pillow over his head.

THIRTY-TWO

Love is a feeling of deep affection.

—MICHAEL D., AGE 13

“Good news,” I said as I walked out of the attached master bathroom. It wasn’t especially master-like but it was functional and clean. Well, clean enough after months of disuse. “There’s plenty of toilet paper.”

“What are we going to do?” Gil stalked back and forth across the room.

Yawning, I flopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m going to take away every dinosaur toy and book that kid owns for the rest of his life.”

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