The Favor Read online

  But Bennett was her kid. Andy was his brother, and an adult. Gabe frowned. “I just don’t want him to be a pain, that’s all.”

  “He’s not. Believe me, if he were, I’d tell him so and send his butt home.” Janelle grinned.

  Her smile didn’t make Gabe feel much better, but he nodded stiffly and gathered up the last bits of garbage from the painting project. “You ready?”

  “Yep.” She followed him through the kitchen, where he tossed the trash, and out the back door. Then to his truck, parked in his driveway. Silent the whole time. Until he pulled into the street, anyway. Then she cleared her throat and half turned toward him. “You take good care of him, Gabe.”

  He didn’t look at her. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what? It’s true.”

  “I don’t need you to pat my head. He’s my brother. That’s all.”

  More silence. He leaned to switch on the radio, punching the button to play the CD he had loaded. Old-school, Violent Femmes, the song order set to shuffle. Too late, he remembered she’d been the one to turn him onto the Femmes.

  “Is this my CD?” Janelle asked after the first two songs had played through and they were nearing the edge of town, almost to the twenty-four-hour department store.

  Gabe didn’t answer her.

  “Gabe Tierney,” Janelle said with a laugh. “I know this is mine. You borrowed it and I never got it back before I left.”

  “Well,” he said tightly, because what she said was true, “you left in such a hurry I didn’t have time to give it back.”

  They pulled into the parking lot, but he didn’t turn off the ignition. The music kept playing. Janelle tapped her fingers to the beat, then her feet. Twisting to face him, she started to sing along.

  “Listen to this song,” she says. “It’s a great song.”

  Janelle dances, hair swinging, hips swaying. Eyes closed. She twirls. She’s magic when she moves, and all he can do is watch her.

  “This is a great song,” she said now, dancing in the passenger seat even with the seat belt restraining her.

  “I know,” Gabe said, and turned off the truck to make the music die.

  “Hey,” Janelle protested. She got out when he did and came around the front to follow him toward the store. “I was listening to that.”

  “I have stuff to do. Need to get home. You do, too,” he added. “You shouldn’t leave them there alone for too long.”

  She had to take a couple running steps to catch up to him. “They’re fine.”

  “I don’t want to be out here all night. I have stuff to do,” he said again.

  “What sort of stuff?” she demanded from behind him. “Big date? What?”

  That didn’t slow him, but he did glance over his shoulder. “Do you really want to be out at Wal-Mart all night? Is that your idea of a good time?”

  “I’m just happy to be out of that house,” Janelle said crisply. She stopped walking. “God. Wow. I’m just glad to be away from there for a little while.”

  Gabe turned, walking backward, watching her get farther and farther away. He waited for her to move, to catch up to him, but she didn’t. She stayed right where she was, right in the middle of the dark parking lot.

  Gabe stopped.

  They stared at each other across the asphalt, the glare of the parking lot lights making shadows on her face.

  “Let’s go somewhere,” she said.

  “We are somewhere.”

  Janelle smiled. “Somewhere else. Just for a little while, Gabe.”

  Gabe said nothing as she took a step closer, then another and another until she was right up next to him, her face tipped to look into his. He didn’t move when she brushed her hand down the front of his shirt, or when she tugged at the hem of it. He couldn’t move.

  “God help me,” she whispered, “I just want to get away for a little while. Is that wrong? Am I a terrible person?”

  “No.”

  “Take me somewhere, Gabe,” Janelle said.

  He let out a long, slow breath. “Where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t know. Somewhere...somewhere away. Like the song says, somewhere only we know.”

  If nothing else had happened just then, he might’ve said yes. He might’ve taken her into his truck and played the Violent Femmes at top volume as they drove and drove and drove, someplace in the dark, someplace away. But a horn blared at them as a car passed, someone shouted at them to get out of the way. Janelle let go of the hem of his shirt and stepped back. The moment was lost.

  She didn’t say another word to him before they split up and did their shopping. They didn’t talk when they met up again at the register, or when they paid, or even when they got back into his truck. But when he slipped something from one of the plastic bags and handed it to her, she let out a small, breathy sigh. She turned the square plastic container over and over in her hands, then ran her fingertips over the title of the CD.

  Violent Femmes.

  Then she said, “Thanks.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  JANELLE JUST WANTED to dance. That was all. Drink a couple beers, listen to some music, get her hips swaying and her feet shifting. She didn’t even need a partner, though it would be a miracle if she got out of here tonight without at least a few offers, she thought as she tipped her first greenie to her mouth and sipped the crisp, yeasty flavor.

  “I haven’t had a Straub’s in... God. Years. Decades.”

  “You can’t get it out in Cali?” Betsy asked. She had a green bottle of her own. “You probably just spent all your time drinking mimosas or whatever, anyway, huh?”

  Janelle wanted to assume her cousin was joking, but couldn’t be sure. “Oh, sure. Me, Brad and Angie totally hung out in the hot tub all the time just quaffing Cristal and OJ.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Janelle laughed. “Um. Yes. I’m kidding. The closest I ever got to a celebrity offering me a drink was when I helped Justin Ross originate a mortgage.”

  “Who’s that?” Betsy twisted in her chair to survey the rest of the bar. “It’s pretty lame in here tonight. It should get a little better soon. I hope.”

  Justin Ross was the star of Janelle’s favorite TV show of all time, Runner. It was in its last season, and she hadn’t been able to keep up with it. She mourned the loss in a totally embarrassing way she wouldn’t have shared with her best friend, much less a cousin she’d barely seen in the past twenty or so years. “It’s okay if it doesn’t,” Janelle said when Betsy turned to her with a look both expectant and apologetic. “I’m happy to just get out for a little while.”

  “I hear that.” Betsy sighed. After a pause, she added, “How’s Nan been since the picnic?”

  “She has her good days and her bad days. You should bring the kids over to see her more often.”

  Betsy looked guilty. “Oh. I didn’t want to tire her out.”

  Janelle hadn’t meant to make her cousin feel guilty or anything...but. “She’d love to see you.”

  “The kids are maniacs,” Betsy said in the sort of voice all mothers who think their kids are perfect use when they’re trying to pretend otherwise. “But I’ll come over. I will. And hey, Bennett could come over sometime, what do you think?”

  “Sure. Of course.” Janelle wasn’t going to argue. It would be good for Bennett to get to know his cousins better. “They seemed to get along fine at the picnic.”

  Betsy nodded with a grin. “Sure, sure. He can come over, spend the night some weekend. We always have tons of kids over playing video games and watching movies. I bet he’d have a blast. And it would give you a bit of a break, huh? Where is he tonight, hanging out with Nan and my mom?”

  “He’s at a sleepover.”

  “Oh...so he’s making friends in school? That’s good.” Betsy nodded again and lifted her beer bottle.

  Janelle clinked her bottle to her cousin’s, wondering if she could tell Betsy about everything that had happened, or if she should just count her blessing