“I’m sorry,” Charlie said. He looked sick.
“Why are you sorry?”
From around the side of the shed came the cousin Abby had seen at the flea market, along with a woman. Abby’s initial reaction was relief that it wasn’t Randall. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see him; she believed his omniscient grasp over her life was like a web that could drop on her at any moment, anywhere. She glanced at Charlie, wondering what he would say or do, how he would explain to them why they were here.
“Chuckles,” the cousin said to Charlie.
Charlie nodded and looked down.
The woman looked like two wrong halves that had been put together: skinny on top and big on the bottom. She wore a fanny pack around her waist.
“Hi. I’m Meggie,” she said to Abby, pushing her pink mirrored sunglasses up into her stringy black hair like a headband. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see Abby and Charlie.
Before Abby could answer, this woman squinted at her and said, “And you must be Abby.”
“What’s going on?” Abby asked Charlie.
He ignored her question and instead said, “Abby, this is my cousin Rake. Rake, this is Abby.”
“You said Rake?” Abby asked.
“That’s right,” said Charlie’s cousin. “I’m Rake. I believe we already met at the flea market. You two checking out the pond?”
Neither Charlie nor Abby answered.
“I said, are you checking out the pond?” he repeated, focusing solely on Abby.
“Yeah, I guess,” she said.
“When Rake asks you a question, you need to answer him,” said Meggie.
“What do you think of my dad’s place?” Rake asked Abby.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s fine?”
“It’s nice.”
“I grew up here. This old place used to be something. We had a nice house until it burned down.”
Abby nodded.
“You passed it on your way here. I guess you didn’t notice it?” Rake said.
“I saw it when we drove in,” said Abby. “That’s really sad that that happened.”
“Yeah, it was sad,” Rake said emotionlessly. Then he made a big, frowny face and pretended to wipe his eyes. Like Boo hoo hoo.
“You want a cigarette?” Meggie asked Abby.
“No thanks.”
“What do you mean no thanks? I said, do you have a cigarette?”
“Oh. Sorry. I don’t.”
“I suppose you don’t either,” Meggie said to Charlie.