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I remember Katie from when we were all kids, but she and Jake are a few years older than me and Abigail, so we didn’t exactly run in the same circles.
Suddenly, Katie sucks in a breath like she’s fortifying herself. “I wanted to talk to you about your housing situation.” She stops and stares at me.
“So talk,” I say. My duck nuzzles my leg, and the dog notices that he’s moving down there. He walks over, sniffs the duck, and stares at him. “Um…” I stand as still as I possibly can. I’m not afraid of big dogs, but I’m also not stupid enough to trust every dog I meet. “Is he friendly?”
“Oh, he’s just curious about your duck,” she says.
“He’s not going to eat him, is he?”
She laughs, and it’s a deep, throaty sound. “No, he’s about as gentle as they come. He wouldn’t hurt anything, unless of course you have a gun or you’re trying to hurt one of my children.”
But the duck is already toddling around to go see the dog, who is so close I can feel his hot breath on my leg. He smells a little like Cheetos. He sniffs so hard that the short hair on my bare legs lifts up, but he doesn’t make any moves like he wants to have my duck for breakfast.
“So your living situation,” Katie says again. She glares at me. “It’s getting cold out.”
I shake my head. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You need a home. Four walls and a floor. Running water. Heat.” She’s serious about this.
“I’m fine,” I say again.
“I talked to your mom,” she suddenly says. She looks guilty as she says it, and she holds up a hand to slow me down when my mouth opens to protest. “We were talking at baseball practice, that’s all,” she rushes to explain.
“Your boy is on Mitchell’s team?” I take a sip of water, and then I pour some into a shallow bowl to offer to the duck. He eagerly begins to drink, and the dog finally gives up and drops down to the ground. I think he has decided my duck is not a threat.
“Yes, Alex and Mitchell are on the same team. I saw your mom at practice, and we got to talking.”
“About?” I stare at her.
“Before you can take custody of Mitchell, you’re going to need a real home. A tent is fine for weekends, but you can’t bring a kid to live in a tent.” Every time she says the word “tent” her face puckers.
“We’re not talking about custody yet, so I have time.”
Katie looks surprised. “You don’t want him?” She immediately looks like she wishes she could take that back.
“It’s not about what I want. It’s about what’s best for him.” I don’t want what’s best for me. I want what will be best, long term, for my son. Right now, that’s him staying with my mom, where he has been for the past five years. It’s the only life he probably remembers. He was two when the accident happened, when I got locked up. For five years, he’s been with Mom, and I think it’s best if he stays there.
“That’s noble of you, but—”
I cut her off with a snort. “It’s not noble. It’s just smart. I’m not ready to be his full-time caregiver. I know that much.”
“Children just need for you to love them,” she says quietly, like she’s telling me something I don’t know.
“They need more than that and you know it.” I pick up my hammer and prepare to go back up on the roof. “If I leave my duck walking around on the ground, is your dog going to eat him?”
She shakes her head. “No. Sally won’t hurt him.”
I gently bump the duck away from me with the toe of my boot so he’ll go play in the grass. The dog sits completely still as the duck walks over and pecks at his feet. He just sits there, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.
“Mitchell is a good kid,” Katie says.
“I know.” I climb slowly up the ladder, halfway watching my duck with the dog.
“So you’ll think about taking one of the empty cabins, right?” she calls up to me. She’s a little breathless, like she’s frustrated by my lack of cooperation.
“Nope.” I start to arrange the few shingles I have left to lay, and I begin to hammer them into place.
“You’re really not even going to think about it?”
