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She heard the sound of twigs snapping behind her, followed by a loud hiccup from Meggie.
“What are you two talking about?” Rake called over to them. He and Meggie were walking up toward the bigger shed and the trucks.
“Are they actually leaving?” Abby asked Charlie. For a second she thought perhaps she’d misread everything.
Meggie heard her. “We aren’t leaving,” she yelled. “I’m laying down in Rake’s truck. I’m tired and I don’t feel good.”
“She’s a lightweight,” Rake yelled. “One six pack’ll do it.”
Charlie and Abby went back down to the fire pit.
“You want a beer?” he asked her, reaching in the cooler.
“I need to drink some water right now.”
“Here you go,” he said, tossing a bottle to her. He focused his attention on the fire then, adding some logs to it, getting it up to the substantial roar he was happy with once again.
Rake showed back up and sat down a moment later, opening another beer. He turned his head to the side to light a cigarette, belched, and then dug some boogers out of his nose. “She’s out,” he suddenly reported. Abby squinted into the darkness, looking for an escaped cow or horse galloping past. It took her a second to realize he was talking about Meggie, and meant that she had passed out.
Charlie nodded. Abby looked from one of them to the other. Neither had hazy campfire eyes. Their eyes were sharp like foxes, locked into one another’s through the flickering fire light.
“She’s out?” Charlie repeated.
“That’s what I said.”
Charlie nodded. He finished the can of beer he was drinking and reached into the cooler for another.
“Chuckles told me a little about you,” said Rake.
“A little about me?” Abby asked. She looked at Charlie. He poked the fire with a big stick, not meeting her gaze.
“Yes, you,” said Rake. “I’m talking right at you.”
“Okay,” said Abby.
“He told me you’re married.”
“Really?” She looked at Charlie, but he refused to look up from poking the fire.
“What kind of a married woman takes up with another man?” asked Rake. He shook his head in exaggerated sadness.
“Charlie, why did you tell him about me?”
“He said this guy’s a real bastard. Rich. Really Rich! And old. Right? Am I right? Does that sound like we’re talking about someone you know?”
Abby didn’t know what to say. Charlie wouldn’t look at her.
“And he said that you need some help getting away from him.”
“I don’t need any help,” Abby said.
“That’s not what I heard.”
She turned to Charlie again. “Charlie, look at me,” she said. He just kept poking the fire.
“That’s not what Chuckles told me
. Are you calling my cousin Chuck a liar? He told me that you want to escape. He said you want to disappear.”
