We didn't play Monopoly. Evan refused. I reminded him that he'd told Nancy the night before that he would
play. In response, he narrowed his eyes at me, and reminded me that he'd had three hours of sleep due
to me being boneheaded.
But he wasn't really mean about it, and I didn't take offense. Ford helped me with my math, and after that, the
four of us just sat around the living room, sprawled over the furniture, watching a rerun of Gunsmoke on television.
I don't think any of us really saw the whole show, but more just vegetated in front of the t.v., trying to stay
awake, to see everybody when they got home.
As Guthrie dozed off for the second time, Ford nudged him. "Go on up to bed."
"I'm awake," Guthrie insisted. "I'm watchin' the show."
"I think I'll go on up," I said, as the ending music played for the episode.
Evan and Guthrie both said goodnight to me, and Ford stood up, stretching his arms above his head.
"Me, too," he said, and we went up the stairs together.
As tired as we both were, Ford said, "Night, midget," and I just gave him a little wave, going into my own room.
As I was dropping off into almost immediate sleep, I remembered that I hadn't gone to check on Sophia and the puppies.
7
When I went downstairs to breakfast the next morning, the kitchen was already full of noise and people.
Only Ford was missing. As Crane passed me, with a platter heaped high with pancakes, he gave me a side hug with his
free arm. "Hey, peanut," he greeted me, with a smile.
"Hi. How was your weekend with Lila?" I asked him.
"Good. Lot of fun," he told me.
He went on around me to set the platter in the center of the table, while Clare and Hannah both said hello to me,
and Hannah took my face in her hands.
"I'm so glad you're alright," she said. "It was scary, huh?"
"Yeah. It was," I admitted.
"I knew there was a reason we taught you to swim when you were five," Adam said, passing behind me, and tugging
my braid.
As I was pulling out my chair, and before I could sit down at the table, Brian caught my wrist in his hand.
"What were you thinkin'?" he demanded. "You should have known better than to drive into water like you did."
"I didn't think it was as deep as it was," I started to explain.
"It's not like flooding is a common thing around here, Brian," Clare defended me. "None of us would have much
experience with water like that."
I gave Clare a grateful look, but Brian, undeterred by her defense, continued on with his scolding.
"Experience or no, common sense should take over in a case like this. For gosh sakes, Harlie," he said, sounding exasperated.
I'd known I'd get some questions, and teasing about my incident with Evan's truck, but I'd hoped that by
breaking it to Adam over the telephone yesterday morning, that I might avoid getting lectures from anyone other than him. I sighed.
Obviously, that had been a ridiculous assumption, on my part.
"I know, Brian," I said.
"You know what?" he asked.
"I know I shouldn't have driven in it."
Brian gave me a look, and then sounded like he was winding up to say something more. "Well-" he began.
Evan spoke up from his spot across the table, where he was pouring syrup over his stack of pancakes.
"She's been talked to enough about it, Bri. Leave her alone."
Well, that got my attention, as well as everyone else's. I gave Evan a surprised, wide-eyed look, and
then, became even more surprised by the fact that Brian shrugged, and said, "Alright," and went to sit down
in his chair at the table.
"Sit down and eat your breakfast," Hannah told me, and I sat down, scooting my chair up. I took a quick look across
the table again, and, while he was reaching for a piece of bacon, Evan's eyes met mine.
I gave him a small smile, in thanks. He gave a slight nod of understanding in return.
After breakfast, Guthrie and I were rushing around getting ready to leave for school. Ford appeared in the midst
of this, his hair still mussed up from sleep.
When he'd told Guthrie goodbye, he turned to me. I stepped close and wrapped my arms around him.
"I'm sorry about the weekend, Ford."
"You already told me you were sorry," he reminded me.
"I know. I just wanted to tell you one more time," I told him quietly, against his ear.
"Okay. You told me." He grinned at me. "Be good, and I'll see you soon."
I was quiet as we drove to school. And, to be honest, I wasn't feeling very well. Not well at all.
I'd eaten a pancake with peanut butter for breakfast, but I was feeling kind of off-kilter, or "shobbly" which was Hannah's
term for a cross between feeling shaky and wobbly. I hadn't checked my blood sugar levels before we left, and in the hubbub
of the morning, no one had noticed or thought to remind me.
Guthrie, observant as always, gave me a few sidelong glances, then turned down the radio, and asked, "What's wrong? You
feelin' bad?"
"Yeah. A little," I said.
"Why didn't you tell Hannah? And stay home?" Guthrie asked.
"I thought it would pass. I've got an English test."
"There's an apple in the glove compartment. Eat that."
"I ate breakfast. I don't think that's what's wrong." I leaned back in the seat.
Guthrie kept casting worried looks my direction as we drove on. When he pulled into the Baptist Church parking lot,
I sat up in the seat. "What are we stopping for?"
"I'm takin' you back home," he said, and did a U-turn in the road, heading back the direction we'd come.
"No, Guth, don't do that. I'm alright."
"You're not alright."
"Well, I will be. It will pass after a while."
"Maybe it won't. You need to check your level or whatever it is. Hannah needs to know."
"Guthrie, Hannah's only days away from having the baby! I don't want her worrying about
me."
"Alright. Clare, then. Is she home this morning?"
"I don't remember her schedule," I said, trying to think.
"Well, we'll see if she's home. Or I'll find Adam."
"Okay," I agreed, succumbing to Guthrie's stubborn tone. I didn't feel well enough to argue.
When we pulled back into the driveway, Clare's sporty blue car was still sitting in the
driveway. Hannah's little Gremlin was absent, though.
Guthrie came around to my side just as I was opening the door. He watched me get out, popping his
knuckles nervously.
"Let's go in and see who's here," he said.
Guthrie held the door open for me, and ushered me inside. The house was cool, and quiet.
When he'd checked the kitchen, Guthrie came back to the living room, carrying a glass of water, which
he handed to me.
"Nobody's in there," he told me.
I sat down on the couch. "I'll be alright now. Go on and get back to school."
"No. Not until I find somebody," Guthrie said. "I'll go upstairs and see if Hannah's up there."
"Don't, Guth," I protested, but he went anyway, taking the stairs two at a time.
He came back down, and headed out the front door, telling me that he was going to look
for Adam, or Crane or Brian, since Hannah wasn't upstairs.
I sipped at my water, and then set it on the table, and laid down to stretch out on the
couch. I took some deep breaths, trying to relax in the quiet.
Awhile later, when I heard footsteps coming up the front steps, and the screen door opening,
I sat up quickly. Not knowing who it was coming in, I didn't want to portray that I was feeling
really badly by being seen laying down. That would cause too much fussing.
Guthrie had succeeded in rounding up Adam, and he came over to the couch, pulling off his
leather gloves, his forehead wrinkled in concern.
"Not feelin' so great, huh?" he asked me, shoving his gloves into his back pocket.
"No. But I'll be okay after awhile. Probably just a touch of the flu, or something."
Having the flu would be better. That would pass without as much
worry by everyone. If it was my diabetes, that would cause no end of worry, and possible carrying on about
me doing too much, or not taking care of my own health.
Adam reached out and put his hand on the back of my neck, which is how he's always checked
us for fever. I wished mightily that I did have a temperature. A good old-fashioned case of the flu. That's what I wished for.
"You're not warm," he said, dashing that hope to the ground. "You think you need to check your level?"
"Probably so," I said, with a sigh.
"Okay." Adam turned to Guthrie, who was still standing there, popping his knuckles. "Head on back
to school, buddy. I'll call and let them know why you're late."
"Okay," Guthrie said. "I'll see ya later, Har."
"See you," I replied.
When Guthrie had gone, Adam herded me towards the kitchen, where he washed his hands at the kitchen sink
and then stood there drying them, leaning against the sink, and watching me. I checked my blood sugar level,
and Adam poured a cup of coffee.
"Is it high?" he asked me.
"Yeah. A little," I said vaguely.
"What is it?" he asked then, coming closer to me.
I'd been hoping that he wouldn't ask outright. The number wasn't good. I started putting things away,
and he said, "Harlie Marie, what is it?"
I sighed, and told him.
"Hmm," he said.
"It's not a big deal," I said, trying to act casual.
"It is a big deal," Adam said, in disagreement. "Did you do your shot last night? And Saturday
night?"
"Yes." I sighed. I shut the cabinet door with a slam. "It doesn't always have to be
because of something that I did wrong," I complained crossly. "Sometimes it just happens."
"Alright, you little crabapple," Adam returned mildly. "I just asked a question."
"Sorry," I told him, with another sigh. "I didn't mean to snap." I was thinking guiltily of that beer I'd partaken
of Saturday night, and the sips of that sweet wine cooler. That's probably what had caused my blood
sugar to spike.
"Get some peanut butter and crackers and then go lay down for awhile," Adam ordered.
I started to tell Adam I didn't need to eat, but he was already pulling the peanut butter jar down
from the cabinet. I got a plate and spread peanut butter on a few crackers. I refilled my glass of water.
I was really thirsty.
"Where's Hannah?" I asked.
"Her and Clare went for groceries."
"Will you talk to her so she doesn't get all worried about me?" I implored him.
"Yeah, yeah. I will."
Adam waited until I was installed on one of the couches in the living room, where he covered me
with a blanket, and then headed back outside.
"I'll be back in to check on you after a bit," he called back to me as he went out.
I fell asleep fairly quickly after I ate the crackers.
When I woke up, I felt a lot better. I stretched, and then looked up at the mantel clock.
It was after ten. I could hear a mixture of voices from the kitchen, and just when I was thinking about
getting up and going to talk to Hannah and Clare, Brian came from the kitchen to the living room.
He was munching on a doughnut, and he gave me a quick look, obviously still thinking I was
asleep.
"Hi," I said, turning over to look at him.
"Hey." He came over close to the couch. "Feelin' better?"
"A lot better."
"That's good."
I sat up, throwing the blanket off of me. "What are you doing today?"
"Getting ready to head up north a bit, and find a couple cows that haven't come in."
"Oh." I thought longingly of riding along with him. Being out in the fresh air on horseback. It
sounded darn good to me.
"I guess there's no use in asking, huh?" I said.
Brian saw thru my intent. "Probably not," he said. "Hannah's not likely to go for it. Besides, you
probably should take it easy today."
I sighed. "Okay."
Our voices brought Hannah and Clare from the kitchen.
Clare sat down next to me, squeezing my hand.
"I'm fine now," I told Hannah, hoping to forestall any big scene.
Hannah raised her eyebrows, and gave me a "mom" look.
But all she said was, "I'm glad you feel better."
"I was thinking I might ride along with Brian," I offered casually.
"I'm thinking not," Hannah returned promptly, without missing a beat.
Brian chuckled at that, and when I gave him an irritated look, he winked at me.
"See you ladies later," he said, and went outside in the sunshine.
I worked on an English essay that wasn't due for another two weeks. Other than that, I couldn't do
anymore of my homework, since I had to wait until the next day to get it. When Hannah went upstairs
to take a nap, I quizzed Clare on some of her stuff for her nursing finals.
"Let's take a break and get something to eat," she said, after we'd been at it for over an hour. "Come on,"
she said, pulling me to my feet.
"Let's use paper towels so we don't have to do any dishes," Clare suggested, with a grin.
"I'm for that, sister," I agreed.
As we were sitting and eating our tuna fish sandwiches, I looked at the kitchen clock.
"Won't the guys be coming in for lunch soon?" I asked her.
"Not today. Adam was going with Brian, and Crane went with Evan into town to see about his
truck."
"Oh," I said.
"It'll all work out," she told me, correctly reading my downcast expression, at the mention of Evan's truck.
"I know. I just feel bad about it."
When we'd finished our sandwiches, we each took an orange and went back into the living room.
As we peeled and ate our oranges, I asked Clare about the weekend, and how it had been seeing her
sister. She told me about the women's shelter, and how cute her little niece was.
"I'm just glad she got away from Jarod. Maybe now she'll have a chance in life," Clare told me.
"Was he always mean to her?" I asked.
"No. He was real nice at first. Charming. Telling her what she wanted to hear. You know the type I
mean."
I nodded as Clare continued talking. "Connie was too young when she got with him. I tried to tell
her, but she didn't think she needed to listen to a big sister."
I thought for a minute, sucking the juice out of my orange.
"Do you think if you'd had brothers it might have been different?" I asked.
Clare looked at me with a twinkle in her blue eyes. "If they were like yours, then yeah, I definitely think
it would have made a difference. I can see any one of them stepping up to Jarod and telling him
to get lost, that Connie was too young. Or busting his face the first time he put his hands on her."
"Evan and Ford told Eddie that I couldn't go out with him. Because they think he's too old
for me," I shared, watching Clare's face for a reaction.
"They did?" she asked, looking thoughtful.
"Yes. And I didn't know it. And then I saw Eddie at the Dari Kurl and he told me."
"Oh," Clare said, looking sympathetic. "That must have been hard."
"It was horrible! Especially after what happened earlier that day."
"Which was?"
"I gave Eddie a ride home that morning. That's why I was in the area of the low water
crossing with Evan's truck. Anyway, when I dropped him off at his cousin's house, he kissed
me."
"Oh, Harlie," Clare said, her eyes crinkling in understanding.
"And he told me he was going to ask me out soon on a real date, like to dinner and a movie. Then,
when I saw him at the Dari Kurl, he said I was pretty and that he liked me, but that we couldn't
date, because Evan didn't want us to!"
Clare took my hand and squeezed it, giving a sigh.
"Then he made it worse by saying that he understands now how the boys feel!" I expostulated.
"I'm sorry, hon. I really am," she said, and I could tell that Clare was sincere.
"I know," I sighed.
"You probably don't want to hear this, but the guys meant well, I know. They have your best
interests at heart."
"Yes. I know."
"Guess that's small comfort, though, huh?" she asked.
I shrugged. "I just really like Eddie. Or liked him, I mean," I said, changing my words.
"You still like him. Admit it," Clare challenged.
"I do. First he said he might ask me out again in a year or so. But I know he's changed his mind now. He's
disgusted with me now."
"Why?"
"Well, because of Saturday night," I rattled off without thinking. "He thought I was acting stupid."
"What happened Saturday night?" Clare asked.
I realized my mistake in mentioning Saturday night. That's the problem with talking to Clare.
She's so easy to confide in that I get carried away.
"Never mind," I said.
Clare wrinkled her forehead. "Something you don't want to tell me?"
I gave her a guilty look. "Evan and Ford know about it. Evan said we could keep it between us. It's something
Brian and Adam would be really upset about-"
"Oh." Clare looked a little startled, and unsure.
"I mean, it's nothing to worry about," I assured her. "It's over, and I promised Evan I wouldn't
do it again."
"Alright," Clare said, still looking reluctant. I wondered if Clare would feel better about it if
I told her that Evan had hollered, and lectured, and paddled my rear end.
I settled for saying, "Evan was really strict about it."
Clare gave me a little smile. "Was he?" she asked.
"Yeah. He was a real bad ass."
"Well," she said. "Okay, then."
"Guess what?" I asked, to change to the subject. "Nancy told me she loves Evan!"
7