Lock and Key(67)

“You know,” he said, after we’d worked in silence for a moment, “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you by showing up yesterday. I just thought you might need help.”

“Clearly, I did,” I said, glad to have the bags to concentrate on. There was something soothing, orderly, to dropping in the brochures, each in its place. “If you hadn’t come, who knows what would have happened.”

Nate didn’t speculate as to this, which I had to admit I appreciated. Instead, he said, “Can I ask you something?”

I looked up at him, then slid another brochure in. “Sure.”

“What was it really like, living on your own?”

I’d assumed this would be a question about yesterday, like why I’d done it, or a request for further explanation of my twisted theories on friendship. This, however, was completely unexpected. Which was probably why I answered it honestly. “It wasn’t bad at first,” I said. “In fact, it was kind of a relief. Living with my mom had never been easy, especially at the end.”

He nodded, then dropped the box onto the floor and pulled out another one, this one filled with magnets emblazoned with the Queen Homes logo. He held it out to me and I took a handful, then began working my way up the line. “But then,” I said, “it got harder. I was having trouble keeping up with bills, and the power kept getting turned off. . . .” I was wondering if I should go on, but when I glanced up, he was watching me intently, so I continued. “I don’t know. There was more to it than I thought, I guess.”

“That’s true for a lot of things,” he said.

I looked up at him again. “Yeah,” I said, watching him continue to drop in magnets, one by one. “It is.”

“Nate!” I heard a voice call from outside. Over his shoulder, I could see his dad, standing in the door to the main house, his phone to his ear. “Do you have those bags ready yet?”

“Yeah,” he called over his shoulder, reaching down to pull out another box. “Just one sec.”

“They need them now,” Mr. Cross said. “We told them ten at the latest. Let’s move!”

Nate reached into the new box, which was full of individually wrapped votive candles in all different colors, and began distributing them at warp speed. I grabbed a handful, doing the same. “Thanks,” he said as we raced through the rows. “We’re kind of under the gun here.”

“No problem,” I told him. “And anyway, I owe you.”

“You don’t,” he said.

“Come on. You saved my ass yesterday. Literally.”

“Well,” he said, dropping in one last candle, “then you’ll get me back.”

“How? ”

“Somehow,” he said, looking at me. “We’ve got time, right? ”

“Nate!” Mr. Cross called out, his tone clearly disputing this. “What the hell are you doing in there?”

“I’m coming,” Nate said, picking up the empty boxes and beginning to stack the bags into them. I reached to help, but he shook his head. “It’s cool, I’ve got it. Thanks, anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Nate!”

He glanced over his shoulder at his dad, still standing in the doorway, then at me. “Yeah. I’m good. Thanks again for your help.”

I nodded, then stepped back from the table as he shoved the last of the bags into a box, stacking it onto the other one. As he headed for the door, I fell in behind him. “Finally,” Mr. Cross said as we came out onto the patio. “I mean, how hard is it—” He stopped, suddenly, seeing me. “Oh,” he said, his face and tone softening. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

“This is Ruby,” Nate said, bringing the box over to him.

“Of course,” Mr. Cross said, smiling at me. I tried to reciprocate, even though I suddenly felt uneasy, remembering that night I’d seen him in this same place with Roscoe. “How’s that brother-in-law of yours doing? There’s some buzz he might be going public soon with his company. Any truth to that?”

“Um,” I said. “I don’t know.”

“We should go,” Nate said to him. “If they want us there by ten.”

“Right.” Still, Mr. Cross stayed where he was, smiling at me, as I started around the pool to the gate. I could see Nate behind him in the house. He was watching me as well, but when I raised my hand to wave, he stepped down a hallway, out of sight. “Take care,” Mr. Cross said, raising his hand to me. He thought I’d been waving at him. “Don’t be a stranger.”

I nodded, still feeling unsettled as I got to the fence and pushed my way through. Crossing the yard, I remembered the house Nate had given me, and reached down to pull it out and look at it again. It was so perfect, pristine, wrapped away in plastic and tied with a pretty bow. But there was something so eerie about it, as well—although what, I couldn’t say—that I found myself putting it away again.

“Okay,” I said, uncapping my pen. “What does family mean to you?”

“Not speaking,” Harriet replied instantly.

“Not speaking?” Reggie said.

“Yeah.”

He was just staring at her.

“What? What were you going to say?”