The Last House on the Street(84)

After I saw my brother. Through the kitchen window, I could see Buddy’s truck pull into the driveway. I watched him get out of the truck, pop the hood, and begin tinkering with one thing or another. I walked out the back door and through the porch. When the porch door slammed shut he looked up, one hand on his hip.

“Hey!” he called. “You home for good?”

A thousand emotions ran through me as I neared him. I loved him more than anyone in the world. Even more than Win. But my anger from the night before was still coursing through me, more so with every step, and by the time I reached him, I drew my hand back and slapped him hard across the face.

He was stunned. I thought we both were. But then he pulled me to him and we wrapped our arms around each other. I felt his breath catch. He was sorry. Whether he said it or not, I knew he was. “Please tell me you’re home for good,” he said, his breath against my ear.

“I am.”

He pulled back from me. “That’s what I prayed for last night,” he said. “That, and that I didn’t kill that boy. I hate him, but I don’t want to kill nobody.”

“You didn’t,” I said. “But you could have. And I love him, and if you love me you should’ve put your damn bigotry aside and let me have him. I’ve left him behind for his sake, not for mine.” I felt my voice start to crack. “I don’t want him in danger from people like you.”



* * *



I called Brenda that evening, but got no answer. I couldn’t forget that letter she sent me—the one where she sounded appalled by the work I was doing. I’d written back but hadn’t heard from her again and I was dying for a real heart-to-heart. She and Garner were probably having dinner at his family’s house. More like a mansion, that house. I guessed Brenda was getting what she always wanted: a man she loved, a baby on the way, and money. I just wanted one particular man. I didn’t care about the other things.

I thought of calling Reed, but it was too soon. I didn’t know what to say to him. Monday morning, though, I had to figure out what to say to him in a hurry when he showed up while I was working at the pharmacy. I figured Buddy had told him I was home. I wondered what else Buddy had said.

I smiled awkwardly at him as he walked to the counter where I was working. He didn’t return my smile. “Can you take a break?” he asked.

I looked toward my father, who was stocking boxes of aspirin on one of the shelves. “Hey, Reed,” Daddy said. He moved toward us, and they shook hands. “Good to see you.”

“You too, Mr. Hockley.”

“Can I take a quick break, Daddy?” I asked.

“Of course.” He smiled widely, no doubt wanting to do all he could to bring Reed and me together again.

We walked out front and sat down on the retaining wall in front of the pharmacy windows. We’d only been apart a few weeks, but it felt more like a year. “How’ve you been?” I asked. “How are things at the bank?”

“How are things at the bank?” he asked. “Do you really think that’s what I want to talk about right now?”

“You’re angry,” I said.

“I’m just … confused. It was too much, Ellie. You put yourself in harm’s way out there in Flint. You had no need to do that. No need at all. Those civil rights workers might as well have targets on their backs these days, and for what—”

“I’m a civil rights worker,” I interrupted him.

“What the hell got into you?” He ran a hand through his hair. “You had a perfectly good life and you went and upended it.”

I thought of how I’d told Win about Mattie Jenkins and me, and how my guilt was one of the things that started me on the path to SCOPE. I could tell Reed the same story and compare his reaction to Win’s, but I didn’t want to. I’d explained it once to the person who mattered most and he’d accepted me for it. I didn’t really care what Reed thought.

Yet I knew I still cared about Reed. I studied his beautiful blue eyes, cloudy now with anger. The way his thick dark hair fell over his forehead, forever annoying him. The lips I’d loved to kiss over the past four years. Of course I still loved him—there was no on/off switch for that emotion. But I didn’t love him the way I once did. Not the way I did before this summer.

“Are you going out with anyone?” I asked, not sure how I’d feel about his answer.

“No one special,” he said. “I was hoping you’d come back sooner rather than later.”

“I’m back, but I’m different.”

“I figured you would be,” he said. He looked across the street toward the hardware store. “Buddy told me about the colored guy,” he said. “He heard about it from someone and came right to my house to tell me. Hoped he could rile me up.”

“So, did you get riled up?”

“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me. I just hope that you’re done with whoever it is … and that you didn’t let it go too far.”

“I’m done.” I couldn’t leave it at that. That made it sound as though I’d willingly split up with Win. “I’m done with him because I don’t want him to get hurt again. Buddy beat him up and if he’s with me, I’m afraid that’ll be his life. Getting beaten up.”