He slipped out of bed and went downstairs, shushing the dog as she greeted him with ecstatic whining and thumps of her tail. He opened the door to the damp morning, letting the dog scamper out in front of him. Dark-bellied clouds hung low over the neighborhood and a breeze kicked up, turning over the leaves to show their pale undersides.
It was weird to be the first one up. He was usually the late sleeper in the family, especially after staying out so late the night before. With Becky.
He couldn’t stop a smile from unfurling, didn’t even try to stop it. He shivered in the morning air and watched Babe sniffing the periphery of the backyard. He automatically checked his cell phone. Too early to call her. He was desperate to hear her voice even though he knew what she’d say. She’d ask him if he’d had a talk with his uncle yet. That was Becky, straightforward and matter-of-fact. When he’d told her his dilemma about Ashley, and the solution he envisioned, she said the longer he put it off, the harder it would be.
He noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Charlie coming toward him. She had on their mother’s long blue nightgown, which she’d worn to bed every single night since last April. The thing was getting ratty from overuse and it was way too long, but no one would ever tell Charlie that. She held the hem up with both hands while she walked and just for a second, a weird, dreamy moment, Cameron blurred his eyes and turned the figure coming toward him into his mother. There you are, honey. I’ve been looking all over for you.
Then the vision was gone and it was just Charlie again, looking small and maybe a little lost. “What are you doing up so early?” he asked her.
Babe came bounding up to snuffle and greet her, then took off again, skimming across the dew-wet grass with her nose low to the ground.
Charlie shrugged. “My eyes just popped open.”
The dog circled back, bowing playfully. Cameron found a fuzzy green tennis ball nestled in the grass. Picking it up with two fingers, he shook off the dew and lobbed the ball to the far end of the yard. Babe streaked off after it and brought it back, dropping it at his feet and looking up with eyes full of hope.
“Yuck, it’s all slimy,” Charlie observed.
“Washes right off,” he said, throwing the ball again and wiping his hand on his shorts.
“Why’re you up so early?” she asked.
“Thinking about things.”
“What things?”
“Ashley,” he said simply. He and Charlie rarely mentioned the matter. Now, seeing her worried frown, he thought that might be a mistake. Thunder growled in the distance. She moved closer to Cameron. Her tiny flip-flops slapped against her heels. She seemed really little to him, little and scared. He took her hand in his.
“It’s Coach Duncan, isn’t it?” Charlie said in a quiet but distinct voice.
Cameron froze. It was on the tip of his tongue to say he didn’t know what she was talking about, but he was done lying. Why did people lie to little kids, anyway? They always found out eventually, or they were never fooled in the first place. Besides, Cameron had carried this around long enough. He loved golf but hated playing for Duncan. He couldn’t figure out how to get out of it, though. What was he supposed to say to Sean? “I don’t want to play for Duncan because Mom slept with him.” Oh, that would be a wonderful thing to say to your father’s brother.
His throat felt dry and scratchy all of a sudden. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he said.
She looked up at him and then out at the wind-stirred yard. The first fat raindrops fell, spattering the pavement of the driveway. Babe returned with the ball again, and Cameron hurled it, all the fury inside him finding a way out. He threw it so far that it went into the next yard where the dog couldn’t locate it. They could see the vertical feather of her tail tracking back and forth in the distant tall grass as she searched.
“I knew I was right,” Charlie said.
“How, um, when did you find out?”
“Mom said. Back in April.”
Cameron remembered the blood-test results he’d found in the car, dated the first Monday in April. He figured his mother had been checking