Page 35 of The Hitchhikers
“I had a best friend when I started school in White Cliff—when I was fourteen. She made me this.” She lifted her crocheted purse, showing it to Alice. “Then one day she stopped talking to me. She quit ballet too. I think my mom did something.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “My mom did all kinds of mean things. Hannah’s mom was pretty, and my momhatedpretty women. She didn’t like me being distracted from ballet either. She thought Hannah was holding me back.” She sighed. “I tried to make friends with another girl, but she quit too. After that I didn’t try anymore.” She glanced at Alice. “Do you have lots of friends?”
“Some. It’s different once you get married.”
Jenny stopped walking. “For guys too?”
It was an effort to think about any life outside of the nightmare that she was currently trapped inside, but Alice forced herself to find an answer. Was it different for Tom? He still played golf and went to the bar to watch football with friends. She went to Tupperware and fondue parties, but over the last year she’d pulled further and further away. It hurt to hear them talk about their children, all of whom were reaching milestones that her son never would.
“Not as much.”
Simon flung open the door. “What’s going on?”
“The girl at the front desk invited us to a cookout,” Jenny said.
“We can’t go.” Simon sounded annoyed, like he couldn’t believe she might be considering it. “Why were you talking to her? That was Alice’s job.”
“Iknow.I was only being polite.” Jenny pushed past him intothe RV, her head down as though she was refusing to look at him. Embarrassed or angry? Alice couldn’t tell.
Simon decided he wanted hamburgers for dinner, and Jenny agreed in a quiet voice. Alice tried to concentrate on the mundane task, something she had done countless other times, but she was too aware that she was being watched. Jenny seemed to take particular interest in everything that Alice was doing. Like she was trying to memorize the steps and the ingredients as Alice mixed the meat for the patties.
“What was that powdered stuff?” Jenny said.
Alice still didn’t want to be nice to Jenny, but if they did form a connection, which she seemed eager for, she might have a better chance of getting through to her.
“French onion soup mix. You can buy breadcrumbs, but I make my own. You add a couple of eggs, and it makes everything stick together. Do you want to form them into patties?”
Jenny’s eyes brightened and she got to her feet, but Simon, sitting nearby at the dinette, studied Alice’s face like he could see straight into her intentions. She kept her expression blank.
Jenny made a mess, but after a few minutes she got the hang of shaping them, and Alice taught her how to cook the meat on the grill, and when to flip the patties.
Simon had pulled the awning down and arranged the grill and chairs so their backs faced the lane. The RV beside them was parked the same way as theirs, so those people were out of sight and likely couldn’t hear them. Whenever anyone passed by, Simon tucked his chin and hunched his shoulders. Alice could see the lump that the gun handle made under his shirt.
After the burger patties were cooked, Simon sent Jenny and Alice inside, where he sliced the buns, onions, and pickles withthe hunting knife. It was unsettling how fast he was with the blade, how adept, and Alice had to look away.
“We have one tomato left.” The second the words left her mouth, Alice wanted to slap herself. Her comment had been spoken out of habit—she was so used to being the one who prepared the meals. But they weren’t dinner guests, weren’t sitting around having drinks.
“Jenny hates them.”
Alice glanced at the girl, who nodded sheepishly.
“They make me feel sick.”
When everything was prepared, Simon and Jenny sat at the table, while Alice sat beside Tom on the mattress, carefully feeding him bites of a hamburger. Normally, Tom would have eaten two, easily, but he barely made it through three quarters of one hamburger before shaking his head when she offered him another bite. “I’m done.”
“You have to keep up your strength.”
“A burger isn’t going to heal a broken bone.”
Tom wasn’t usually sarcastic to her, and she blinked in surprise, but he didn’t notice. He was staring up at the ceiling with a pained expression.
“You need more water.”
He let out a groan and lifted his head so she could hold the glass for him. She helped him to the bathroom, under the watchful eyes of Simon. She hated seeing Tom grimace every time his arm jostled, and how he had to awkwardly hold his elbow.
When they were finished in the bathroom, she had him sit on the edge of the bed, and she gently, slowly, pulled his tank top off. She was horrified by the deep purple bruise that covered his shoulder and spread down to his chest. She dropped the neck opening of the tank top over his head, leaving it loose in front of his body, so he could use the armholes as a sling. They bothbreathed a little easier when that task was done, and she helped him lie back down on the bed.
