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Nothing.
I rang the doorbell again and stared down at the welcome mat.
“I don’t think he’s going to answer,” Morgan said.
I nodded and sighed. As I bent down to set his book and the folder beside the door mat, I heard heels clicking on the tile inside. While I was still crouched, a woman wearing a black swimsuit, a leopard print cover-up, and bright pink heels opened the door. Patrick’s stepmom. In her hand she held a glass of wine and sipped from it as I stood. Her long, fake nails were polished the same color as her heels, and her lipstick seemed to match pretty closely.
“Please tell me you’re the new pool boys… or lawn boys,” she said as she leaned on the door frame.
What a skank.
“We’re classmates of Patrick’s.” I held the textbook and folder up.
“Oh.” She rolled her eyes and then took another sip from the glass. “Well, can I help you?”
“We brought by Patrick’s homework,” I said.
His stepmom reached out and snatched the book and folder. She tossed them on the floor of the entryway and raised her eyebrow at us.
“Anything else, boys?” she asked.
“Can we see him?” I asked.
“He’s sick,” she said quickly.
“Just to say hi,” I added.
“He’s in bed. Asleep.” His stepmom took a step backward and started to close the door. “Thanks for bringing his schoolwork by,” she said. There was no time for me to say anything else before she closed the door.
Morgan and I walked to my SUV and then headed home.
“No wonder Patrick’s so tense,” Morgan said.
“That was nothing. You haven’t seen his dad. He’s a dick. So is his stepbrother,” I replied.
“I don’t know how he stands it.”
I didn’t either. Morgan and I were very fortunate that we had a family that wasn’t anything like Patrick’s.
