Plenty of times I’d wanted to beat the crap out of Liam, but never as bad as I did when he told Wavy to get out. Her whole face went blank, and stayed that way until we walked out to the front drive. She scowled when she saw the Willys.
“The bike’s at the shop,” I said. “I got tired of it being dinged up. We’ll have to ride in the truck for a while.”
Wavy shuffled her feet, but she let me take her hand and help her up into the truck.
“You know, this is Old Man Cutcheon’s truck. Good truck. Plus, it’s the same age as his son. He thinks that’s good luck. He sold this to me a couple years ago, when his grandkid was born, and bought himself that new Ford. He’s still proud of this Willys, though. Says it’s never broke down on him.”
She knew all about the truck; I was only trying to fill up the quiet.
“You wouldn’t want to live down at the trailers anyway. It’s noisy and they smoke. Makes the place stink. You wouldn’t like that.”
When I turned to go up the road to the farmhouse, she said, “No.”
I couldn’t blame her for not wanting to go up there. Val laid up in bed, with a nurse there—some stranger. I turned around and drove the route we took around the lake on the bike, but it wasn’t the same in the truck. I was sorry I’d sold the Barracuda, even though I made good money on it. Piss poor timing on my part. Once we reached the Powell city limits, there were only two options: my house or the shop.
“Is there somewhere you want to go, Wavy?”
After a second, she pointed at me.
“Yeah, we can go to my house.”
“Live with you,” she said.
“You can’t live with me.”
She pretty much had been while Val was in the hospital. That had to end now.
I didn’t know what else to say, so I drove to my place and pulled into the carport. Wavy sagged back in her seat, staring out the windshield at the faded asbestos siding on the garage. She looked so small and tired, like my ma before she died.
“It’s not me, Wavy. Other people wouldn’t like you living with me, since I’m not your family. Maybe you could go live with your aunt. They’re your family.”
It made a kinda sense, but that was about the last thing I wanted. Tulsa was a long drive, and the way her aunt looked at me, it wasn’t like I’d be able to visit Wavy there. But maybe things would be better for her without me. Maybe she could have a regular life with good people.
“Well, what if we…” I racked my brain trying figure out something. There was the spare bedroom. I could put the weight bench out in the garage. Get a bed in there. Except it didn’t fix the real problem. Her living with me.
“Get married,” she said. Had she heard what Liam said at the hospital? Man, I hoped she didn’t believe that crap about me messing around with Val.
“If who got married?” I said.
She pointed at me and, in that slow way she had, brought her finger back to her chest.
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. Not because I thought it was funny, but because I was shocked. She looked right through me, like I wasn’t there. She wasn’t joking, and I wished I could take it back.
“I’m not laughing at you, sweetheart. You surprised me is all. I didn’t expect you to say that.” She didn’t make a sound. She was gonna make me answer her. “You know we can’t get married.”
“Why?”
“I don’t think Liam would like that.”
She shrugged, ’cause it was a stupid reason. Liam had kicked her out.
“I’m a good wife,” she said.
“I know you’d be a good wife. I like your cooking and you clean the house and you know how to keep the books. I mean, if it was just about that, or about me wanting to be with you, sure, but you’re too young to get married.”
Staying out at the farmhouse with Wavy and Donal, it was something near to playing house, except Wavy didn’t play at things.
“Here’s the thing: in a couple weeks you start school, right? Leave the house by seven, when Val’s still asleep. After school, you can go to my house or down to the shop. Stay there ’til it’s time to close. Then we can have dinner, you can do your homework, watch TV, and I’ll take you up to the farmhouse before bed.”
Wavy didn’t answer. No nod, no shrug, nothing.
“Hey,” I said. “Hey.”
For the first time ever, I reached over and touched her hair without waiting for some kind of invitation. Even that didn’t get me a reaction. She didn’t lean into me and she didn’t push me away. There had to be something to make my offer stick and sitting there looking at the back door of my house, I thought of it. I started the truck and headed to the hardware store. Got there just before it closed. I came around to Wavy’s side and almost spilled her on the pavement because of the way she was leaning up against the door.
“Come on, we gotta get something,” I said.
She came after me, dragging the heels of her new boots. While I went looking for a clerk, she stood in the store’s main aisle, staring through a display of car wax.