center of the house, turning with the circling pig as if she were a horse and he had her on a lunge line. “I think I’d rather tase her.”
“Drew…”
“Fine. I’ll hug her.” He shook his finger at his sister. “But you owe me. You owe me big.”
When Rosie circled her way out of the kitchen, Drew tackled her, dragging her down to the hardwood floor and his lap. It was like being on the bottom of a dog pile. And yet the beast’s legs kept moving as if she was still running.
“You’re too rough.” Eileen was at Rosie’s side instantly, cooing and stroking the pig beneath the blanket.
Drew grunted. “Is this what you had in your SUV Sunday morning? Is this why you swerved on the road?”
“Don’t play detective.”
“Answer the question, or I’ll tell your landlord.” Tom Bodine, the largest landowner in Sunshine, the owner of Bodine Meat Company.
The pig didn’t like either of their tones. She squealed and did the sideways running man. Drew held on tight, ruing the fact that his mother hadn’t given birth to more than one sensible child.
“Yes,” Eileen cooed, practically singing her words. “Rosie rammed my seat back, and I swerved. Are you happy now?”
“No.” But thank heavens she hadn’t been at the intersection near the interstate when it happened, the one where Scotty and Randy had died. The pig’s legs didn’t slow, and Drew’s legs were growing numb. “How long do we have to stay like this?”
“Lower your voice.” Eileen cooed at the large ham sandwich as if it were a beautiful baby. “Just a few more minutes.”
Rosie didn’t want to settle. She’d worked herself up into a royal state the way Becky used to do when she was overly tired and stuck on scream mode. Back then, he’d buckled her in her car seat and played the soundtrack from Beauty and the Beast on full volume.
“You need to sing,” he whispered.
“What?”
Rosie squealed.
“Sing a lullaby. Or a Christmas carol or something.” If being a parent had taught Drew anything, it was that pride was less important than a happy child. When Eileen didn’t start singing, Drew did. He sang “Hush, Little Baby” and “Baby Mine.” He sang “Silent Night” and “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” He was about to start “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” when Eileen stopped him.
“She’s all better. Aren’t you, Rosie?” Eileen stood, removed the tablecloth, and helped the pig stand. She led it into the kitchen, where she stroked its face and told it to sit.
Drew stayed where he was, letting his numb legs tingle back to life.
The pig rested on its haunches, as well-behaved as any dog. Except most dogs didn’t do this much damage. Overturned furniture, spilled litter box, broken picture frames.
“Mom is not going to be happy.” She’d convinced Tom Bodine to rent the house to Eileen without a security deposit.
“You wouldn’t tell her.” Eileen’s eyes were huge.
“I don’t need to tell her. She always stops by unannounced.” Drew got to his feet and picked up a family photo from when Becky was born. The glass was cracked over Drew’s grinning face. “This pig isn’t a house pet. Tell me you’re not keeping it permanently.”
Eileen set a plastic child gate between the kitchen cabinets and a wall, a configuration that would be about as effective at stopping a runaway hog as a bedsheet hung on a clothesline. His sister was always making houses out of straw.
“You run an animal shelter.” He reinforced the child gate with a kitchen chair. “I can drive Rosie there.”
“You can’t.” Eileen sniffed. “I have some dogs I’m working with who won’t stop barking at her. They gave Rosie a nervous breakdown.”
“So you’re keeping her here?” Drew gestured to the remains of Eileen’s home. “Now I’m having a nervous breakdown.”
Eileen lifted her chin. “She’ll be fine once she loses weight.”
“If she loses weight.” And it wasn’t as if she was going on a cleanse. There was an extra-large dog bowl on the kitchen counter.
“Why can’t you ever support what I do?” Eileen’s big brown eyes filled with tears.
Rosie snuffled.
Eileen knelt and hugged her, promising her everything would be all right.
Drew took in the destruction in Eileen’s small house. And then he looked at Eileen’s paper-thin T-shirt and her tennis shoes with slick soles. She needed to get a real job, a real life, and a real plan for the future. But first, she needed to rescue this overweight, overly sensitive pig.
“She can’t see the threats around her,” Eileen said softly, petting Rosie