Nowhere but Home A Novel - By Liza Palmer Page 0,110

to do this because it’s the right thing to do for West.

23

Hamburgers, hot dogs, potato salad, homemade potato chips, lemonade, and a Texas sheet cake

I do my rounds. The butcher. The farm stand. The farm where I buy fresh eggs. I found a local apple farm just over the hill and if the perfect apple isn’t in this bag, I don’t know where it is. I am running myself ragged so I don’t have to think about Everett being trotted down to that hospital where Felix lay dying while Everett’s own mother tells him that he’s basically the cause of it. I slam my hand on the kitchen counter.

After my morning run with Cal and West, I prep the wood and get the brisket in the smoker early Thursday morning. I stack and settle the wood, pondering the idea that Arabella Coburn and BJ Wake are a lot more alike than I had previously thought. I haven’t been able to even look at Everett since I found out. Why didn’t he tell me? Of course he wouldn’t tell me. That’s so him. Shit, that’s so us. Going through this stuff and thinking we needed to shoulder it all ourselves.

I set up my station: My barbecue sauce, my sopping brush, meat thermometers, the works. It’s supposed to be close to 104 degrees out here today, so I also bought a pretty good–size kiddie pool. I catch a glimpse of myself: drinking my morning coffee in a pair of cut-off jeans and a tank top, filling up a plastic kiddie pool with the garden hose. I am the picture of class and good breeding. Momma would be so proud.

“So I’m telling Reed and the girls to be here by . . .” Merry Carole trails off.

“We want it to cool down some, so I’m thinking seven to seven thirty?”

“That sounds fine; the girls usually get to bed around eight, so we can always set them up in my bed right inside,” Merry Carole says, closing the door behind her and walking out into the backyard.

Merry Carole’s backyard is a testament to what one woman can coax her fifteen-year-old son into doing. The lawn is mowed within an inch of its life and the flora and fauna around the surrounding fence consist of overgrown shrubs and bushes. I’ve set the smoker up in the back of the yard where there’s a concrete slab; no need to set this place on fire. The kiddie pool sits in the middle of the lawn, much to Merry Carole’s displeasure. The patio is furnished with a lovely table and chairs that’ll do nicely for tonight’s festivities, although if the heat doesn’t break we might have to eat inside.

“Honey, I don’t think I even know these girls’ names. You just always call them ‘the girls,’ ” I say, turning the hose off and curling it back up.

“Oh right. Amelia is six and Rose is four. I bought them these little dresses for the opening game? Black and yellow, of course. The girls really liked them. Even Reed’s ex-wife said she was happy I was . . . you know, when she came to pick them up for the weekend. She congratulated us, said the dresses were cute. I just . . . Queenie, I have always wanted little girls,” Merry Carole says, her face a mixture of terror and excitement. I’ve been seeing that a lot lately.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Sure.”

“Honey.” Merry Carole looks inside the house.

“He’s at practice,” I say, now seemingly knowing Cal’s schedule better than Merry Carole.

“We had dinner over there last night, you remember?”

“Sure. Did everything go okay?” I ask.

“It went fine. Better than fine. It was . . . perfect. Too perfect. Everyone was on their best behavior and I just felt . . . Cal was sitting there like he’d never even met Reed, when I know for a fact that Reed had been yelling at him not two hours before about letting go of the ball earlier. Cal hangs on to that ball way too long. Thinks because he’s quick he can just hang out in the pocket for hours. I just want to, you know, get past all the niceties, I guess,” Merry Carole says, sitting down on one of her patio chairs.

“Yeah, well, wouldn’t we all.” I walk over and sit down next to her.

“I hope today they can loosen up, you know? Remember that we actually know each other.”

“Tell them to bring their swimming suits. They can play