the room at Anderson. He stood several tables away, holding on to the backs of two adjacent chairs, entertaining a table full of residents with his morning jokes.
“I don’t know,” I said, though I did. We would be actuating a catastrophic train wreck.
While we all took a bite of breakfast, Josie came in the front door, like she had the day before. This time, she knew her destination. She rounded the corner, eyes on our table, and flashed us a crooked smile, partly forced, partly not. What warmth there was fell on me specifically, so much so that I put down my spoon and stared.
She’d showered; her hair lay long and damp against her back. Despite wearing the same thing as yesterday, she looked refreshed, new. I noticed things I hadn’t seen before: a cluster of freckles on the bridge of her nose, purple stud earrings in the shape of stars, chipped nail polish, and a single yarn bracelet.
She grabbed a spare chair and brought it to the corner of our table, then sat in it with her legs folded up under her like a pretzel. “Hey, guys.”
“Well, good morning,” Alice said. “What a nice way to start the day. We were just talking about you.”
Carl beamed and laid his open palm on the table, which Josie looked at without understanding.
I leaned in and whispered, “He wants to hold your hand.”
“Oh.” She took it, laughing uncomfortably and sitting upright equally so.
Anderson returned—drawn like a moth to a light—with a dish towel slung over his shoulder and a swagger in his step. “Early start, huh? Can I get you some breakfast?”
As Josie looked up, the rising sun breached the tree canopy just outside the window. The light sliced through the pane and between us, blaring straight into Josie’s face, making her squint. Making her glow.
Anderson leaned in closer to shade her, close enough he could probably smell the agave soap we use in our shower. So close, in fact, I could feel the unseen vibration between them. It was chock-full of want and need and hope, and it was dangerous.
“Want to go to the mall?” I blurted at Josie. “Alice, she can join you, can’t she? What time are you leaving?”
Startled, Alice turned to me with a frozen smile. “I’m sorry?”
Carl, who looked like he’d been hit upside the head with a nine iron, tightened his grip around Josie’s hand. “We have plans.”
I said, “What time is the mall trip, though? Maybe Josie can squeeze it in.”
Carl stared me down. Everyone else looked to Alice until she answered quietly, “We’re leaving at ten.”
“We’ll be doing arts and crafts then, thank you.” Carl’s eyes didn’t leave mine.
“I love the mall,” Josie said brightly. She gave their intertwined hands a wiggle. “I could bring you something back.”
He looked at her then, at the exact same time Anderson gave up on being the human parasol. Josie was left squinting in the light again. No way she could see Carl’s face across from her, naked with desperation, eyes on bended knee.
I could, though, and it made me cringe when he said, “But everything I want is right here.”
Josie smiled, blind but certain, and gently untangled their hands. “Don’t worry, Peepaw. I promise to pick you out something good.”
20
Well, I’d officially sealed my fate for the morning with that stunt. Carl ate the rest of his breakfast without acknowledging me, though no one noticed because of Josie. She’d once again captured Centennial’s attention, with visitors stopping by to fawn over her and inquire about anything from her favorite color to her choice in lotion, because My, isn’t her skin phenomenal.
Carl shooed people away the best he could, acting downright rude sometimes, all in the name of protecting his sacred time with Josie. When he finally scared everyone off besides the four of us sitting there, he made an eleventh-hour effort to reclaim the day.
“How’s your sour stomach?” he asked. “Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to go shopping?”
“I’m okay,” she said. “Actually, I left yesterday to go to urgent care