“Marsh says he sprained his ankle. He’s missed practice most of the week. ”
Jude stopped and turned. “Zach missed football practice? Because of his ankle?”
“Oh, boy,” Molly said quietly.
“All week,” Julie said.
“I think he’s better now,” Jude said evenly. “In fact I’m sure of it. Tell Coach he’ll be at practice tomorrow. ”
“Marsh will be glad to hear that,” Julie said. “And I signed up to chaperone the grad party. Let me know if you need me for anything else. ”
Jude nodded distractedly. Actually, she wasn’t even listening. Clutching her keys, she moved purposefully through the crowd, barely making eye contact with people around her. At the car, Molly stopped beside her. “I take it he doesn’t have a sprained ankle. ”
“The lying little shit,” Jude said. “He’s come home from practice every day this week, right on time. He even had wet hair. ”
“So what has he been doing?” Molly asked.
“That’s what I’d like to know. ” She forced a smile. “Lunch tomorrow?”
“Of course. I’ll want to hear the scoop. ”
Jude nodded and got into her car. All the way home, she talked to herself, practicing the conversation she would have with Zach.
Once inside the house, she called Zach on his cell phone, got no answer, and left a message. Then she began to pace. She should have made the kids come home for dinner tonight.
This time of night, the view outside was all but gone. A dark sky had settled over a black body of water. Only a few bright lights shone out here and there from the opposite shore. In the orange glow of her porch light, Jude saw a Halloween version of herself trapped in the glass.
She was there, tapping her foot, staring at her own reflection, when the twins came through the front door like bank robbers, shoving each other out of the way, their voices climbing over each other to be heard.
“Zachary, I need to speak to you,” Jude said.
They skidded to a stop and looked up in perfect unison.
“Huh?” Zach said, highlighting his mastery of the English language.
Jude pointed to the sectional in the great room. “Now. ”
Zach moved slowly, his body pouring like syrup onto the overstuffed sofa. “What?” Already his gaze was narrowing, his arms were crossing. A shaft of blond hair obscured one green eye.
Mia plopped down beside him.
“You may go, Mia,” Jude said to her daughter, her voice brooking no disobedience.
“Mom, please—”
“Go,” Jude said again.
With a dramatic sigh, Mia got up and flounced out of the room. Jude doubted she went far; her daughter was probably eavesdropping from the foyer.
Jude sat down in a chair opposite Zach. “What do you have to tell me, Zachary?”
“What do you mean?” he said, not making eye contact. “We went to Pizza Factory for dinner. You had that meeting tonight. You told us to eat out. It’s not even late. ”
“This isn’t about your dinner plans tonight. You have something to tell me, and we both know it,” Jude said sharply.
“You mean football,” Zach said, sounding both miserable and guarded. “Coach called you. ”
“On an island this size? You think that’s how I find out things? Really, Zach? And what would Coach Williams have told me if he had called?”