The Favor Read online

  She remembered that day, Nan insisting on the picture. The stickiness of sweat trickling down Janelle’s back because she’d been stupid and dressed as if it were fifty degrees outside, not in the Indian Summer seventies. She’d spent an hour on her hair and makeup, all for a silly snapshot.

  “You were playing football.” Janelle took the picture and studied it. There in the corner, another blur, just the tiniest sliver. “With Gabe.”

  “Did I... Did we know you then?”

  She smiled. “Yes. A little. You got to know me better later.”

  Much better.

  Much later.

  “I wish I remembered.”

  “Me, too, honey.” She patted his arm and tucked the picture back among the others, gathering them into a pile. There was no box to put them in, so she grabbed an empty laundry basket from the closet and dumped them inside. The other boxes went on top.

  “I could get more down,” Andy offered. “There’s room in the basket.”

  “I don’t think we’ll even get through these tonight. This is enough. Thanks.”

  He was still staring at her. Awkwardly, she hefted the laundry basket and waited for him to move out of the way. He didn’t at first, not until she made a shooing motion with the basket. She felt his gaze on her the entire way down the hall toward the family room.

  Bennett had already put away his math homework by the time they got there, and set out a bowl of cookies and glasses for milk. Nan looked up from the recliner, blinking sleepily. She settled the remote into the knitted holder attached to the chair’s arm and started to her feet.

  “Hold on, hold on, Mrs. Decker.” Andy pushed past Janelle to help Nan up. He did it easily, despite his own disability. He steadied her gently with his good hand and helped her to the table, where he pulled out her chair. “There you go.”

  “Thanks, honey,” Nan said. “Ooh, cookies. Bennett, did you do this?”

  “I like cookies,” Bennett said with a grin. “With milk.”

  “Pour me a glass, honey, and let’s get started. Janelle, grab my glasses.” Nan tapped the table as Andy moved toward the back door. “Where are you going, Andy?”

  “Oh...I thought I’d better go home.”

  Nan shook her head. “You can stay, help us sort these pictures. I wouldn’t be surprised if we found a few more of you and your brothers in here. I’d like you to have them, if we do.”

  Janelle already knew there was at least one, of course, but was a little surprised to think there could be more. Andy looked surprised, too. He put a hesitant hand on the back of a chair.

  “Really?”

  “Of course. Absolutely.” Nan nodded. “Sit down.”

  People didn’t argue with Nan when she spoke in that voice, and Andy was no exception. He sat. Janelle got out the archival safe marker she’d ordered online, and brought in a bunch of sandwich bags and rubber bands from the kitchen. They all helped themselves to cookies and milk and got started.

  It went far slower than Janelle had thought it would. She could easily and quickly sort the pictures into piles if she knew for sure who was in them—piles for uncles, cousins, family friends. Photos of landscapes and buildings, and any that were out of focus, she set aside. But there were many pictures of people Janelle didn’t know, and those she gave to Nan, who studied each one for several minutes apiece.

  Most of them had a story. This person had said this or done that, just before the camera clicked. Nan remembered most of their names and the places, and Janelle wrote the information carefully on the backs of the pictures with the pen that wouldn’t ruin them, and put them into their piles according to how Nan categorized them.

  “Mom, you look hilarious,” Bennett said over and over, having a laughing fit each time he pulled another picture of her out of the pile. It didn’t matter if it was one of her in the height of eighties fashion as a kid, or in her goth phase. He laughed and laughed.

  The more he laughed, the more she laughed. Andy laughed, and Nan laughed, too. Janelle lifted a photo of herself decked out in full fashion.

  “Look at this one.”

  “Mom, you look like a rooster was sitting on your head!”

  “I think she looks beautiful,” Andy said suddenly. “She always did. Look beautiful, I mean.”

  Nan’s giggles faded and she gave Janelle a knowing glance. Bennett wrinkled his nose in distaste. Heat rose in Janelle’s face, not quite a blush.

  “Thanks, Andy.”

  “I mean...I don’t remember, exactly. I look at the pictures. I look at you now.” He smiled at her. “I’m sure I’d have thought you were beautiful back then.”

  With the three of them staring at her, all Janelle could do was clear her throat awkwardly. “Well...thank you, Andy. That’s really nice of you to say.”

  They spent the next hour or so sorting through pictures before Nan began to get tired. She didn’t say anything, but Janelle could tell. Nan protested a little when she suggested it was time for bed, though.

  “I believe I’ll stay up a bit,” her grandmother said. “I’d like to finish with this box. You help Bennett get ready for bed.”

  Bennett didn’t need any help, but when he opened his mouth to say so, Janelle stopped him with a look. To Nan, she said gently, “It’s getting late. Let me help you with your pills and stuff, okay?”

  “I don’t need any help!” Nan shouted, and struck a trembling hand against the final box of photos they hadn’t yet sorted.

  Pictures scattered, fluttering to the floor. Andy reacted with a startled cry, backing up in his chair until it hit the wall behind him, and Bennett looked as if he might cry. Janelle carefully kept herself from reacting.

  “Nan. It’s late, and you’re tired.”

  “Don’t talk to me like I’m a child,” Nan cried. “I want to finish this, and I’m not tired! You go to bed if you want to, Janelle, but don’t you tell me what to do. I want to finish this.”

  “Bennett, go on upstairs. Andy,” Janelle said, “thanks for your help. You should probably head home.”

  He nodded. “Should I come tomorrow?”

  “Call me,” Janelle told him, and stood to walk him to the back door as Bennett eased past her toward the kitchen. On the back porch, she said, “Thanks for your help.”

  “You want me to stay? I could. If she needs something, if you need something, I mean.” Andy looked so sincere it made Janelle’s throat close.

  She put her hand on his shoulder. “No, it’s fine. She’s old and sick.... I’d be cranky, too. Wouldn’t you?”

  Andy nodded after a second, brow furrowed. “Yeah. I guess so. But if you’re sure you don’t need any help...”

  “I’m okay. We’ll be fine. Thanks, Andy.” Impulsively, Janelle hugged him. She meant for it to be a simple embrace, a quick hug, but the moment his arms went around her, it felt so damned good to have someone holding her that she melted into the touch like a cat beneath a stroking hand.

  He put both arms around her, the good hand flat against her back and the other resting lightly at her hip. She fit just beneath his chin, her cheek against his chest, on his soft T-shirt. She didn’t mean to cry. It just happened. A few tears, nothing major, most of which she sniffled back because she didn’t want to totally break down. Andy stroked his hand over her back, his fingers tugging on her hair just enough to return her back to reality.

  “Sorry,” she said as she stepped away. “God. Sorry, Andy. I just...”

  He shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry this is hard for you.”

  Janelle glanced over her shoulder, but though the back porch door was open, she couldn’t see Nan from this angle. Which meant Nan hadn’t seen them. “I’m fine.”

  Andy’s brow furrowed again. He rubbed at the white line of his hair as his mouth worked, before he said finally, “I feel like there should be something I can say, but it’s not coming out right. I can taste the words, but they’re stuck.”

  “It must be frustrating.” Janelle wiped d