Page 87 of Roadrunner

When she opened them they were steadier. She exhaled once, slowly. She reached out and picked up the spoon I’d set on the counter.

She handed it to me.

“Stir,” she said.

I took the spoon.

I stirred.

From the living room, Arthur laughed again at something Riley said.

Della stood at the counter with her back to me and I watched her shoulders rise and fall with one long breath.

Neither of us said another word about it.

Not that night.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Alex

Now

Della called on a Thursday.

“Sunday,” she said. “Bring Arthur. He’s staying with me.”

“He’s staying with you,” I repeated.

“For the evening,” she said. “You and Riley are going out.”

I looked at the phone. “Did Riley put you up to this?”

“Riley doesn’t put me up to anything,” she said. “I put Riley up to things. There’s a difference.” A brief pause. “Be here at four. I’m making tamales.”

She hung up.

I looked at the phone for a moment longer.

Then I went to tell Arthur he was having a sleepover at Della’s whether he liked it or not.

He liked it.

He packed a bag that evening.

Not a big bag. A reasonable bag. Pajamas, a book, his toothbrush. He set it by the door the way he always set things by the door when he’d made a decision about them. Neat and ready and not to be discussed further.

“This is your first sleepover there,” I said.

“I know,” he said.

“And you’re already packed.”

He looked at the bag. Then at me. “She said I could help with the tamales,” he said. “I’ve never made tamales.”

“You’ve eaten mine,” I said.

He gave me a diplomatic look.