Was I? I didn’t know. The potential for humiliation was strong. And I didn’t understand—she’d been listening to me babble in my sleep from where? The window? I couldn’t understand.
“How do you… Where do you… What did I…?” I couldn’t finish any of my thoughts.
She put her hand on my cheek. The blood under her fingers felt burning hot next to her cold hand. “Don’t be upset. I didn’t mean any harm. I promise, I was very much in control of myself. If I’d thought there was any danger, I would have left immediately. I just… wanted to be where you were.”
“I… That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“What are you worried about?”
“What did I say?”
She smiled. “You miss your mother. When it rains, the sound makes you restless. You used to talk about home a lot, but it’s less often now. Once you said, ‘It’s too green.’” She laughed softly, hoping not to offend me again.
“Anything else?” I demanded.
She knew what I was getting at. “You did say my name,” she admitted.
I sighed in defeat. “A lot?”
“Define ‘a lot.’”
“Oh no,” I groaned.
Like it was easy, natural, she put her arms around my shoulders and leaned her head against my chest. Automatically, my arms came up to wrap around her. To hold her there.
“Don’t be self-conscious,” she whispered. “You already told me that you dream about me, remember?”
“That’s different. I knew what I was saying.”
“If I could dream at all, it would be about you. And I’m not ashamed of it.”
I stroked her hair. I guessed I really didn’t mind, when it came down to it. It wasn’t like I expected her to follow normal human rules anyway. The rules she’d made for herself seemed like enough.
“I’m not ashamed,” I whispered.
She hummed, almost like a purr, her cheek pressed over my heart.
Then we both heard the sound of tires on the brick driveway, saw the headlights flash through the front windows, down the hall to us. I jumped, and dropped my arms as she pulled away.
“Do you want your father to know that I’m here?” she asked.
I tried to think it through quickly. “Um…”
“Another time, then…”
And I was alone.
“Edythe?” I whispered.
I heard a quiet laugh, and then nothing else.
My father’s key turned in the door.
“Beau?” he called. I remembered finding that funny before; who else would it be? Suddenly he didn’t seem so far off base.
“In here.”
Was my voice too agitated? I took another bite of my lasagna so I could be chewing when he came in. His footsteps sounded extra noisy after I’d spent the day with Edythe.
“Did you take all the lasagna?” he asked, looking at my plate.
“Oh, sorry. Here, have some.”
“No worries, Beau. I’ll make myself a sandwich.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled again.
Charlie banged around the kitchen getting what he needed. I worked on eating my giant plate of food as fast as was humanly possible while not choking to death. I was thinking about what Edythe had just said—Do you want your father to know that I’m here? Which was not the same as Do you want your father to know that I was here? in the past tense. So did that mean she hadn’t actually left? I hoped so.
Sandwich in hand, Charlie sat in the chair across from me. It was hard to imagine Edythe sitting in the same place just minutes ago. Charlie fit. The memory of her was like a dream that couldn’t possibly have been real.
“How was your day? Did you get everything done that you wanted to?”
“Um, not really. It was… too nice out to stay indoors. Were the fish biting?”
“Yep. They like the good weather, too.”
I scraped the last of the lasagna into one huge mouthful and started chewing.
“Got plans for tonight?” he asked suddenly.
I shook my head, maybe a little too emphatically.
“You look kinda keyed up,” he noted.
Of course he would have to pay attention tonight.
I swallowed. “Really?”
“It’s Saturday,” he mused.
I didn’t respond.
“I guess you’re missing that dance tonight.…”
“As intended,” I said.
He nodded. “Sure, dancing, I get it. But maybe next week—you could take that Newton girl out for dinner or something. Get out of the house. Socialize.”
“I told you, she’s dating my friend.”
He frowned. “Well, there’re lots of other fish in the sea.”
“Not at the rate you’re going.”
He laughed. “I do my best.… So you’re not going out tonight?” he asked again.
“Nowhere to go,” I told him. “Besides, I’m tired. I’m just going to go to bed early again.”
I got up and took my plate to the sink.
“Uh-huh,” he said, chewing thoughtfully. “None of the girls in town are your type, eh?”
I shrugged as I scrubbed the plate.
I could feel him staring at me, and I tried really hard to keep the blood out of my neck. I wasn’t sure I was succeeding.
“Don’t be too hard on a small town,” he said. “I know we don’t have the variety of a big city—”