Page 57 of Roads Behind Us
He scoffed. “I know that.”
“So then…?”
“Never mind,” he mumbled, and he turned to go.
Something made me try to stop him. I wasn’t sure why, but it just felt like he needed… something. He looked familiar somehow, but I couldn’t pinpoint the reason. I felt sure we’d never met, and we stood too far apart for me to really see his features.
“Do you need help?” I had to ask.
I knew this guy. I didn’t know him, know him, not his name, but I’d met plenty of guys like him before. Down on his luck, maybe he’d lost a job, or he was on drugs. Or both. Maybe he had a kid to feed but couldn’t. A man like that could absolutely be a threat to me, especially a tall guy like him. Maybe I should’ve felt fear, but I didn’t.
He seemed surprised by my question. He stopped, but he didn’t turn. I thought he might say something else, but then he picked up his pace and rushed to get out of there. It was then I noticed something big and bulky dangling from one of his hands by his leg. He gripped some kind of handle tightly, and I could tell whatever he was holding had some weight to it, but he’d covered the whole thing with a small plastic tarp.
Parked in the dark shade of a big tree off to the side of the dirt lane, a car waited for him. I couldn’t tell if anyone else was in the car, but I thought he was most likely alone when he placed the covered object on his front passenger seat and then jogged around and slid into the driver’s side of a dirty, beat-up four-door sedan. The next thing I knew, he had started the car. Its muffler cracked loudly, and the tires spit rocks back my way as he took off.
Um. Okay?
“Bea!” Athena greeted me when I showed up at the house, with my backpack and suitcase packed into the passenger seat of my truck. She reached in to hug me through my open window and spotted the suitcase, and a smile spread across her cute face. “Are you stayin’ here with Daddy and me?”
“Yeah,” I said, pushing with my shoulder on my door when she backed away. I yanked the suitcase across my seat and set it on the gravel, then slung my backpack over my shoulder. “There’s bears by the cabins, I think.”
“Oh, well yay!”
“Yay?”
“Yeah,” she said, and she grabbed the suitcase by the handle and dragged me by her other hand to the porch stairs. “I mean, I’m not happy you’re scared, but I’m happy we’ll see you more.”
“Oh. Thanks. Yeah, I was gonna borrow a shotgun, but there’s a lot of people comin’ and goin’ all the time. It’s probably best if I, you know, stay with other humans.”
She laughed. “Good thinkin’.”
In the kitchen, Athena parked my suitcase next to the laundry-room door and introduced me to her “best friend in the whole wide world,” Shaylene, who had an elfin face and white-blond hair with raspberry-colored highlights streaked throughout. It hung down nearly to her waist. Shaylene had been preparing graham crackers, pieces of broken-up chocolate bars, and huge marshmallows, situating them in a decided order on a baking tray, but she paused to wave at me.
“S’mores after dinner?” I asked, and both girls grinned and nodded. “Nice to meet you, Shaylene. Athena, where’s your dad?”
“He’s out back. Don’t laugh when you see him. He made Uncle Rye drag his recliner out there before he left to go see Aunt Aubrey ’cause Daddy said his back hurt sittin’ in the lawn chair. And he’s wearin’ these funny, plastic-y pants ’cause they’re the only clean ones he could find that will fit over his cast.”
The girls giggled and tee-hee’d, and I tried not to laugh.
“I threw his laundry in the wash. Oh, here,” Athena said, walking to the fridge. She opened it and grabbed a big, ceramic serving plate holding six fat beef steaks. “Can you take these to him, please? The veggies and potatoes are in the oven, but we’ll bring ’em out when they’re done.”
“Sure.”
The novelty of my presence wore off quickly, and Athena turned to Shaylene. “So anyway, Logan asked if I wanted to go to the dance with him. It’s on my birthday. Can you believe that? It’s like a fairy tale…”
Dropping my backpack by my suitcase, I took the heavy plate from her hands and pushed the kitchen’s screen door open with my boot, then carried the steaks out behind the house.
Sure enough, Bax was there, relaxing in his La-Z-Boy in front of a huge grill, wearing the plastic-y, maroon pants, which seemed to be some kind of track pants, a brick-red and hunter-green plaid sweater that looked like it could win an ugly Christmas sweater contest, and no shoes or socks.
“Well, ain’t you dashin’ tonight?” I said, holding back laughter. “This outfit is just weird enough to start a trend.”
Bax whipped his head in my direction. “Don’t you start too,” he complained. “I’m cold and these are the only pants I had clean that would fit over this damn cast.”
“Then why aren’t you wearin’ socks and shoes? Or a shoe.”
“’Cause my foot’s swollen again, and the sock made it itchy. Then, only wearin’ one sock irritated me, so I took the other one off.” He shrugged, like that made complete sense, and wiggled his toes in the grass.
He’d tried to hide it, but I’d seen the big pad of paper he’d dropped over the far side of the recliner when he heard my voice.
