really didn’t care. She was slender for her age, with straight, badly cut hair that fell below her ears. Her jeans were tattered but not fashionably and the wording on herT-shirt was long since washed out. It had once been bright pink, I thought, but was now an off-white with reddish splotches here and there.
I led the way down the hall. “This will be your room,” I said. I turned the light on. The bed was made and everything had been put in the closet or stacked on the dresser. I’d brought in some fresh towels and extra hangers, which I’d laid on the quilt.
Casey looked around, then stepped into the room.
“Our son, Cody, is asleep next door. Chase is his dog. Cody named him that because he was always having to chase after him.” She didn’t smile. “Do you like dogs?”
Casey gave another one-sided shrug. “They’re all right.”
“Can we get you anything?” Brad asked, coming to stand behind me. He placed his hands on my shoulders.
Casey considered his question and shook her head.
“The bathroom’s at the end of the hall.”
She nodded.
“We’ll see you in the morning,” I said. I didn’t want to leave the girl, but I didn’t know what else to say or do. Casey obviously had no interest in conversation. She acted as though she couldn’t be rid of us fast enough.
“Night,” Brad said.
“Yes, good night,” I added with what I hoped was an encouraging smile.
Casey nodded and closed the bedroom door. Brad and I were left standing out in the hallway.
“I hope we did the right thing,” Brad whispered.
“Me, too.”
I woke during the night and knew instantly thatsomething was different. It took me a couple of minutes to realize what it was. Then I remembered—a girl was sleeping down the hall. A girl we didn’t know. Casey clearly didn’t want to be in our home and revealed no appreciation for our hospitality.
About seven, just before the alarm rang, Cody’s voice boomed, “Mom, there’s a girl in the house!”
Tossing aside the covers, I jumped out of bed. I grabbed my housecoat and hurried into the kitchen, where Casey sat at the table, eating a bowl of cereal. Cody stood in his pajamas with Chase at his side, tail wagging slowly. My son seemed to be in a state of shock.
“This is Casey,” I said.
Cody’s eyes narrowed. “Does she talk?”
“Casey, this is our son, Cody.”
The girl went on eating her breakfast. “Uh-huh.”
“He’s not bad for a boy,” I told her and was rewarded with the glimmer of a smile.
“Mom,” Cody protested. “She’s not staying, is she?”
Whatever slight enjoyment had shown in Casey’s eyes immediately disappeared. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gone soon.”
I swallowed the words to tell Casey she was welcome to stay as long as she needed. To be honest, I didn’t know if that was true. We’d merely agreed to a short-term visit; I suspected that was all we could handle. This girl made me feel uncomfortable in my own home.
“I’ll be late tonight—” I said, reaching for the coffeepot. Brad worked for UPS and had left an hour before my alarm went off. He’d made coffee, as usual—for which I was profoundly grateful.
“Can we go to the park?” Cody asked as I filled a mug and stirred in cream and sugar. “You said we could.”
“I’ll take you and Chase there this morning,” I told him after my first restorative sip. With the shop open until eight that night, I wasn’t due at work until twelve. Margaret would open and Elise would arrive later in the afternoon.
Casey mumbled something I couldn’t decipher.
Cody bristled. “I’m not a baby.”
“Babies go to the park with their mommies.”
“Casey, that was uncalled for,” I said disapprovingly. “You’re a guest in our home, but I can’t and won’t put up with any form of disrespect. Is that understood?”
Casey didn’t respond. Instead she stood and carried her bowl to the sink. “I need to leave for school now.”
“It’s too early, isn’t
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia