“Do you chat with the guys you’re balling?” She laughed out loud. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have any grass, would you?”
“No.”
“Guess not,” she said, sighing with disgust as she came erect and threw her hair back. “Uncle Tate went berserk when he caught us smoking that time. Wonder what he would have thought if he’d caught us sharing that cowboy?”
Avery blanched and looked away. “I… don’t do things like that anymore, Fancy.”
“No shit? For real?” She seemed genuinely curious.
“For real.”
“You know, when you first came home from the hospital, I thought you were faking it. You were Miss Goody Two Shoes all of a sudden. But now, I believe you really changed after that airplane crash. What happened? Are you afraid you’re gonna die and go to hell, or what?”
Avery changed the subject. “Surely Eddy’s told you something about himself. Where did he grow up? What about his family?”
Fancy propped her hands on her hips and regarded Avery strangely. “You know where he grew up, same as I do. Some podunk town in the Panhandle. He didn’t have any family, remember? Except for a grandma who died while he and Uncle Tate were still at UT.”
“What did he do before he came to work for Tate?”
Fancy had already grown impatient with the questions. “Look, we screw, okay? We don’t talk. I mean, he’s a real private person.”
“For instance?”
“He doesn’t like me going through his stuff. One night I was searching in his drawers for a shirt to put on and he got really pissed, said for me not to meddle in his stuff again, so I don’t. I don’t pry, period. We all need our privacy, you know.”
“He’s never mentioned what he did between Vietnam and when he came back to Texas?”
“All I’ve ever asked was if he’d been married. He told me he hadn’t. He said he’d spent a lot of time finding himself. I said, ‘Were you lost?’ I meant it like a joke, but Eddy got this funny look on his face and said something like, ‘Yeah, for a while there, I was.’ ”
“What do you think he meant by that?”
“Oh, I suspect he freaked after the war,” Fancy said with breezy unconcern.
“Why?”
“Probably because of Uncle Tate saving his life after their plane crashed. I guess Eddy relives bailing out, being wounded, and having Uncle Tate carry him around in the jungle until a chopper could pick them up. If you’ve ever seen him naked, you must’ve noticed the scar on his back. Pretty gruesome, huh?
“He must’ve been scared shitless they were gonna get captured by the Cong. Eddy begged Uncle Tate to leave him to die, you know, but Uncle Tate wouldn’t.”
“Surely he didn’t think Tate would,” Avery exclaimed.
“Well, you know the fighter pilots’ motto—‘Better dead than look bad.’ Eddy must’ve taken it to heart more than most.
Uncle Tate was the hero. Eddy was just another casualty. That must still play on his mind.”
“How do you know all this, Fancy?”
“Are you kidding? Haven’t you heard Grandpa tell it often enough?”
“Oh, sure, of course. You just seem to know so many of the fine details.”
“No more than you. Look, I’m going out to the pool. Do you mind?”
Inhospitably, she walked to the door and pulled it open. Avery joined her there. “Fancy, the next time you want to use something of mine, just ask.” She rolled her eyes, but Avery ignored her insolence. Touching the girl’s shoulder briefly, she added, “And be careful.”
“Of what?”
“Of Eddy.”