A gust of wind whips up the porch and I cross my arms to do my best to block it. The way she avoided the question burrows beneath my skin. “So, no?”
“It’s fine,” she says, and the weight in my stomach sinks lower.
“Stevie, do you have someplace to go?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She pushes off the porch rail. “Sorry for the intrusion. If you’re going to call the cops because I walked intoyour house while you were naked, will you at least give me a ten-minute head start?”
I see the diversion for what it is, but I don’t know this woman, and she’s made it clear she has it covered, so I ignore my instincts and let it go. “Five.”
Her lips curl in what looks like a more genuine smile, despite the circumstances, and I feel pleased to at least have done that. “You drive a hard bargain, John.”
“Jack,” I remind her, even though she remembered earlier.
“I’ve heard concussions can cause confusion.” She turns to head back down the porch to her truck that’s parked on the dirt driveway. “Sorry again, and thanks for helping me out the other night.”
“Do you really have somewhere to go?” I ask as she takes her first step down. I’m not sure why I’m pushing.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she says, sparing one last glance in my direction. “Eight minutes.”
“Seven,” I retort, even though I don’t really feel like joking, not with the guilt eating at me as I send off a concussed woman into the cold.
“Goodnight,James. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” she says before hopping in her truck, the sound of her door shutting behind her echoing through the trees.
“Youcanreallyjustkeep staying at our house,” Wren says for what feels like the millionth time.
After the incident at the cabin, when I finally got a hold of Wren and explained the situation, she insisted I come back to her house for the night. Just like the night before, she put me in June’s room and had June and Wilder bunk together. It was fine, but certainly not a permanent solution. I’d feel too guilty kicking June out of her room long term, and it’s not Wren’s responsibility to figure out my living situation.
“Thank you,” I tell her and press the phone in between my ear and shoulder so I can open the hardware store door. The bell above the door jangles, announcing my entrance, and I step inside, grateful to get out of the wind. The sky is a moody shade of gray, the clouds hanging low enough to touch, heavy with another impending rainstorm. “But I don’t want to make things difficult for you all.”
“You’re not,” she insists.
“I am.”
“Stevie.”
“Wren.”
“Just stay with me.” I hear noise in the background and remember she said something about a class party at June’s school today. It’s just another reminder that my best friend isbusy. She has a life and kids, and I’m not about to intrude on it.
“I’m at the hardware store,” I say, brushing past her insistence. “If I can’t figure something out, I’ll stay with you.”
“There’s no electric,” she reminds me.
“I’ll be fine, Wren. I camp outside in all weather for my job.”
Her sigh is loud through the phone speaker. “Fine, but promise me you’ll come back to the house if you can’t figure out something.”
“I promise.” But I don’t mean it, not really. As much as I love Wren, I feel out of place there now. An outsider intruding on something I’m not a part of.
We end the call, and I wander through the store in search of a tarp. It’s not going to keep out the cold, but it will at least keep me from being exposed to the elements. We tried to cover the hole as best as possible yesterday, but I needed to find a better solution anyway.
The bell above the door rings out again as I finally find the aisle I’m looking for. The tarps are on the very top shelf, and I have to push up onto my toes, stretching as far as possible to try to reach it. My fingers barely brush the package, and I can’t grasp it, but before I can give up and find an associate, someone steps up beside me and pulls it down. I turn and find Jack standing there, tarp held in his hands between us. He’s not wearing his glasses today, and I’m struck by how blue his eyes are—the exact same color as the lake in summer, when the sun sparkles across it and it gleams like glass.
“You’re clothed,” I say, the words slipping out before I can think better of them.
He rewards me with a crooked tilt of his lips. “Yes, Stevie. That’s how I usually appear outside of my home.”
“But inside it, you’re usually naked?”
