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The dog sits, looking annoyed.
I head into the office, pull my shirt on as well. I go downstairs, put on my shoes, grab June’s, then get a broom, mop, and paper bag. I’m not sure what else I’ll need. I’ve never had a tree fall into my bedroom before.
When I go back upstairs, I stand there for a moment, collecting myself. I force myself to think about axes and saws and ladders and replacement windows, not what it would be like to get into my bed next to June.
Not about what would have happened if earlier, I’d just held her hand. Would she have pulled away? Would she have laughed? Tomorrow, would she tell Silas that I’d tried to put the moves on her in my kitchen?
I shut my eyes and knock on my bedroom door.
Half a moment later, June answers it, lantern in hand, wearing the billiards sweatshirt again, her hair still mussed from my pillow. She opens the door and steps inside silently, and I hand her her shoes.
She looks at me quizzically.
“So you don’t step on glass,” I tell her, and she shakes her head like she’s trying to clear it.
“Right, thank you,” she says. “Sorry, I’m… not quite with it yet.”
“Understandable,” I tell her.
I move into my room, toward the broken window on the opposite wall. A cool, humid breeze drifts past me and I shine the flashlight over the floor: glass and leaves and twigs and scattered water droplets. It’s a silver maple, and an old one, judging by the size of the branch.
“What happened?” June asks, coming to stand next to me.
“Well,” I start. “This tree fell through my bedroom window, and I’m glad I chose to put the bed against the other wall.”
There’s a moment of quiet, and I turn to find June looking at me, her eyes narrowed in the low light.
“Levi, are you being a wiseass?” she asks.
“I am,” I admit. “Apologies.”
“No, I like it,” she says, the hint of a smile on her face. “I mean, it’s — you’re not usually — you know.”
I don’t know. I don’t know and I want to ask her, but I don’t. She said she likes it and I can already tell that will keep me awake at night in the coming week, and that’s enough.
“Most likely, the tree was already weak, and the storm weakened it more,” I say, pointing the flashlight at the branch speared through my window. “Then finally, it fell. Silver maples only live to about a hundred and thirty. This tree could have just been old.”
June bends, picks up the dustpan and broom.
“Well, it went out with a bang,” she says, stepping carefully toward the window.
We clean the glass from the floor, dump it into the paper bag. June dries the water while I pull the rest of the glass from the window frame, my hand wrapped in an old towel.
Finally, it’s done, excepting the tree still sticking through the window.
“What do we do about this?” June asks, reaching out and touching the bark.
“We go back to bed and wait for daylight,” I tell her, watching her fingers on the branch. “I’d prefer not to use a saw when I can’t see very well.”
“Makes sense.”
I gather the broom, the mop, the rags, the paper bag filled with glass.
“Take the cot in the office,” I tell her. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“I don’t mind the couch.”
“June, take the cot,” I repeat, already walking for the door of the bedroom.
“Levi, I don’t mind the couch at all, I already took your bed—”
“I insist,” I tell her from the door of my bedroom. “Good night, June. Again.”
“Thank you,” I hear her say as I head down the stairs.
I put the broom and mop away. I put the paper bag on the back porch so the dog can’t get into it. I pull an old quilt from the closet, take off my shoes, and lay on the couch. It’s slightly too short for me, but there was no way in hell I was making June sleep on the couch.
I close my eyes and try not to think. The dog comes over and lays down next to me, and I reach out, scratch her behind the ears.
I remind myself of Silas, drinking beers at my brothers’ brewery, telling us how June’s ex showed up at her window with a boombox, proposed, and wouldn’t leave when June asked him to. I remind myself that he claimed he knew how to hide a body so well no one would ever find it, and he’s probably right.
Some lines simply shouldn’t be crossed. Some rules simply shouldn’t be broken.
June is one of them, and I know it.I’m already awake when the sun rises. I’m not sure I went back to sleep, truth be told, but sometimes it can be hard to tell.
