Crow's Row

Rocco came running in, cannonballing into the water and spraying a disgruntled Meatball. I

got out of the pool, moving away from the line of fire, and sat on a long chair, curled up under

my towel. Meatball had run off, seeking a quieter place to sleep.

I watched the two brothers splashing and wrestling in the water. When they stood next to each

other, it was easy to see the similarities. Like Cameron, Rocco had shaggy dark curls that hung

around his face and looked like they had never seen the pick of a comb. They both did this thing

where they would shake their hand through their hair, and then shake their heads like dogs to

get the rest of the water out. The brothers also had the same full-toothed grin and an

infectious laugh—something that I hadn’t heard much of, but that now seemed natural. Both boys

were tall and lean, though Rocco still had a bit of baby fat in his rosy cheeks and stomach.

Cameron was more solid. Rocco was almost as tall as Cameron now—I supposed that within a year

he would probably grow to be slightly taller than his big brother.

When Carly walked out of the pool house, balancing a stack of papers in one hand as she closed

the door behind her with the other, the brothers furtively glimpsed each other. They grinned,

coolly, as Carly too coolly walked too close to the battleground. Then they wound up their arms

like paddles and showered her with half the water in the pool.

With a shriek followed by elongated cursing, Carly, who was completely drenched, shook herself—

and her now-soaked paperwork—off. I shuddered, suddenly reminded of my first encounter with

Carly’s wrath. Rocco and Cameron just high-fived each other and snickered as she stomped away,

still swearing under her breath. She was powerless against their lapse in maturity.

Carly had momentarily disappeared into the house. But, to my utter amazement, she walked back

out after a few minutes and came to share my long chair.

I hadn’t noticed until that moment that Spider had been standing on the sill of the basement

doors, looking at all of us with a confused look on his face. And then he practically tiptoed

over and sat next to Carly. I moved down the chair to give them some room and me some distance

from Spider. As usual, he nervously sat on the edge of his seat, unable to just sit and relax.

Though, after significant taunting from Rocco and Cameron, he went to join them in the pool.

It was strange to see all of them together, playing around. It was as if they were acting their

own age—and I didn’t feel like I was a kid among adults.

Eventually, Cameron gazed down at his water-pruned hands, climbed out of the pool and came to

sit next to me, letting Rocco fend for himself in the pool.

“How is it that you and your brother only just met?” I wondered.

“Technically, he’s my half-brother—same mother, different father. My dad and mom had me when

they were teens. When I was six, I was sent to live with my dad. Our mom had a bunch of kids

with different guys, from what Rocco tells me. The only times I saw her was when she managed to

track my dad down to get some money.”

“Why didn’t you stay with your mom?”

“She’s a drunk and had enough problems of her own without having to worry about another mouth

to feed,” he said. “My dad was forced to take me in when the social worker threatened to put

me in a foster home.”

“So you lived with your father.” I mulled it over. “Where did you grow up?”

“Everywhere, I guess. We moved around a lot.” He continued to watch Spider and Rocco play in

the pool, but he wasn’t paying attention. His mind was elsewhere.

And then he snapped out of it and looked at me with his wide, overwhelming grin. “Any more

questions?”

“At least a thousand more,” I gasped.

He warmly put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed me in a half-hug. “You’re exhausting,

you know.”

Before I had time to get my breath back, I jumped. A curly blond little boy had come bounding

into the pool. The person who trailed him surprised me even more.





Chapter Eight:

Unclothed



She was a tanned, bouncy, blonde beauty. Like a girl from those hair removal cream commercials:

long legs, cutoff shorts, strutting in heels—I was expecting her to break out into a song about

her short-shorts any minute. In the few seconds it took her to glide a few steps, the climate

around the pool went from warm and cozy to below freezing. I watched Carly’s smile turn

tortured. I watched Spider’s eyes circle to Carly, his face turn to ice; he lunged out of the

pool and met the blonde. I watched Rocco gawk dreamily at her. He was apparently in charge of

keeping the pool water from turning to snow.

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