Secluded Cabin Sleeps Six(42)

They heard voices then, and Bruce pulled up his jeans, grinning. Hannah sliding her skirt down, still watching. But there was only the darkness.

Voices again, closer. Were there only going to be stolen moments on this trip? But it was quiet again. She’d thought she heard her name but whoever was calling was headed away.

They were missing dessert.

“We should get back,” she said. She kept looking into the trees. But now she wasn’t even sure what she’d seen.

Bruce sat beside her. “Let’s just take a minute and be.”

He dropped an arm around her, and she rested against him breathing in the night air. Somewhere there was shrieking, now. Cricket. She got loud when she was drunk.

“That guy,” said Bruce. “He was staring at you.”

“Joshua? No,” she said. “He’s head over heels for Cricket.”

She told him how when she’d first seen him, she thought she recognized him. It was still bothering her to be honest. But she was too tired to probe into the recesses of her memory further.

“One of your many conquests?”

“That must be it.”

“No,” said Bruce, nudging her with his shoulder. “He was though. In a weird way. Almost sad.”

Bruce was a sensitive guy, nearly empathic. He always seemed to know what she was thinking, was very in tune with what Gigi needed which most fathers she knew were not.

“He does have a strange vibe,” she admitted.

“Hannah!” Cricket.

“You guys better put your clothes on!” Mako. His voice was getting closer. “We’re going to find yooouuuu.”

“Oh no,” said Bruce. “They found us.”

“You thought they wouldn’t?”

Mako came into view on the path, covering his eyes. “Are you guys decent?”

“Of course,” said Hannah, tugging at her skirt. “We’re old married people. We’re not romping out in the gazebo like two teenagers.”

“Anymore,” added Bruce, earning a guffaw from Mako.

“You always were such a slut,” put in Cricket, coming up behind Mako. She slipped in next to Hannah, and pulled her into a hug.

“That’s my wife you’re talking about,” said Bruce, mock offended.

“And my sister,” said Mako, with a hand to his heart. “But yeah—a total slut.”

It was only funny because Hannah was the straight arrow, the rule follower, the eternal good girl. The designated driver—for life. She was fine with that. She didn’t mind being the one to take care of the wild kids, the one who made sure that everyone else was safe.

“I took the cover off the hot tub,” said Mako. “Let’s have a soak.”

“And a smoke,” said Cricket, producing a joint from her pocket with a wicked grin. Cricket was a walking pharmacy—she always had weed, gummies, all manner of pills.

“Where’s Joshua?” asked Hannah, looking down the dark path.

Cricket rolled her eyes. “He had some work to do. He might join us later. But he’ll probably just turn in. He’s a chronically early riser.”

“For now, it’s just us. The OGs,” said Mako, pulling Cricket up and leading her back toward the house. “Let’s chill.”

“Private party?” asked Bruce when Cricket and Mako disappeared up the path. Bruce and Hannah followed behind the other two, hand in hand, listening to their laughter. A hot tub, a joint, significant others MIA. That was a recipe for Cricket and Mako to get into trouble. What was it with those two?

Hannah frowned, thinking of poor Liza, sick in bed with a migraine while they all partied on. “Not on my watch.”





18


Henry





2001


Graduation day dawned gray and cool.

Miss Gail had bought him a suit and it was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes that morning. The suit, navy blue, was hanging on the hook on the back of his door. His first thought was of Alice, though he didn’t think about her as much as he used to. Something about the way the suit hung, the way Miss Gail had placed the red-and-navy-striped tie over the shoulder. He felt a knot in his stomach. Alice would have been happy, proud of him.

We don’t always choose what happens to us. But we choose what we do with it.

That was true. His mother had been murdered. Her case gone cold, never solved. He’d essentially grown up at Miss Gail’s, a small, safe group home. He hadn’t chosen any of that. But he chose to stay in school, to take the comfort and the security Miss Gail offered, to do well and keep his grades up. And now he was graduating high school. In the fall, he’d go off to college, a full ride to MIT, the essay about his hardships certainly playing a factor.

Resilience. Miss Gail’s favorite word. Fall down seven, get up eight. That’s it. Sometimes I suspect it’s the thing that separates success from failure, maybe the only thing.

A slight rap on the door.

“Are you awake, graduate?” Miss Gail asked, a singsong lilt to her voice.

“Yes,” he answered. “I’ll be right down.”

He was the only one still staying with Miss Gail. Other boys had come and gone. Orphaned boys, or kids taken from abusive homes, sometimes returned to those homes after a while. Sometimes they ran off; some of them stealing from Miss Gail. Some boys came in the middle of the night. Henry had spent a lot of hours lying awake listening to one of the new arrivals weeping. Some of them got into trouble, were arrested for drugs or assault. Henry had been there through it all. He helped Miss Gail now—with the cooking, the chores, getting the new kids settled, serving as a role model when he could. But for a while, more than six months, it had just been the two of them.