Twenty-Two
“No car,” Gus said. “No bye-bye.”
“Yes bye-bye.” Shiloh snaked Gus’s arm through his coat sleeve. “Maybe we’ll go to McDonald’s.”
“ I want McDonald’s,” Junie said.
Shiloh’s mom frowned. “You just had pancakes.”
“Quiet, Mother, I’m bribing them. Put on your shoes, Junie.”
“You’re taking him where ?” Her mom was still frowning and blowing on her nails.
“To pay his mom’s electric bill.”
“Oh.” She frowned for a new reason. “Well, you better hurry—the window closes at noon.”
Shiloh zipped up Gus’s coat. “I know.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the car. “Come on, Junie!”
“I didn’t know we had errands today,” Junie said, following Shiloh out onto the porch, dragging her feet. Her hair was cut in a short bob. It was thick
and straight like Shiloh’s, and it moved like a figure skater’s when she shook her head.
“We’re doing someone a favor,” Shiloh said.
“Who?”
“My friend Cary.”
Junie folded her arms. “You don’t have a friend named Cary!”
Everything Junie said was over-emphasized and over-emoted. If you didn’t know her, it seemed like an act. If you knew her...
well, it still seemed like an act, but Shiloh was used to it. She opened the door on Junie’s side. “You don’t know all my
friends.”
“Yes, I do, Mommy. Who don’t I know?”
“Cary, for one. Get buckled up.”
Junie climbed into her car seat, sighing loudly.
Gus had started to whimper. “No bye-bye.”
“Yes bye-bye,” Shiloh said, setting him down in his car seat. “We’ll go for a drive, we’ll get French fries, and we’ll do
something nice for someone. It feels good to help people.”
“Doesn’t your friend have a car?” Junie asked.
“Nope.”
Shiloh got behind the wheel and put in a Disney sing-along CD. Even Gus couldn’t resist a Disney sing-along. Hopefully Cary
liked Hercules .
Did Cary like kids?
She’d only seen him around his nieces and nephews and his mom’s boyfriends’ kids—and he’d never been happy about it.
When Shiloh got to his house, Cary was waiting on the porch with Lois. He’d put on a navy blue hooded sweatshirt. He started
helping his mom down the steps.
Shiloh got out of the car. She opened the gate for them.
Cary’s face was flat with stress. “She’s got to go to the bank first.”
“I need to get a money order,” Lois explained. She was more breathless when she was walking. She wore her oxygen canister
in a bag over her arm.
Shiloh went to the front passenger door. Cary brought his mom over to help her in. It was slow going.
“Are you coming, too?” Shiloh asked Cary.
He nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll just have to move their car seats.”
“Oh. I wasn’t thinking...”
“Hello, angels,” Lois said, looking into the back seat.
Shiloh opened Junie’s door to try to figure everything out.
Cary was right behind her. “I can just sit between them.”
“I don’t know,” Shiloh said. “It’s pretty tight.”
“It’s a short trip. I mean—” He looked at her. “This is your car and your kids, sorry.”
“If you want to try...”
Cary turned to Junie, who was riveted by his sudden appearance.
“Suck in your legs,” he said, and climbed over her.
“Oh my lord , ” Junie said.
Cary was hovering over the back seat, moving books and toys off the narrow strip between the boosters.
“I’m so sorry,” Shiloh said. “Sweep all that on the floor. Are you—”
He wedged himself between the seats, his body at an angle. “I’m in, I’m fine.”
She laughed a little. “I’m not sure you’re getting out.”
“Oh my lord, ” Junie said again, in case they hadn’t heard her the first time. She was making her eyes huge.
“Okay,” Shiloh said, closing the door. By the time she got around to the front, Junie was introducing herself.
“I’m Juniper, and that’s my brother, Gus.”
“Juniper—what a beautiful name,” Lois said. “I’m Mrs. Cass. But you can call me Grandma Lois, everybody does.”
“You can call me Junie.”
“And that’s my baby boy,” Lois said, “Cary.”
Junie looked like she was pretending to try not to laugh, with her hand over her mouth. “Cary isn’t a boy’s name!”
“It’s my name,” Cary said.
Junie raised her eyebrows into her hairline. She had Groucho Marx eyebrows, just like Shiloh. All she needed was a cigar.
“Mom banks at Commercial Federal,” Cary said to Shiloh. “Is there one on the way?”
“I like the one on Saddle Creek,” Lois said.
“There’s one on the way...” Shiloh tried to picture it. She didn’t want to take wrong turns in front of Cary.
Cary was sitting mostly sideways and bracing himself on his mom’s seat.
“You should be up front,” Lois said. “There’s more legroom.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m grateful for the ride.”
“God knows I owe you a ride,” Shiloh said. “I owe you a thousand rides.”
“Are you really my mommy’s friend?” Junie asked, feigning disbelief.
“We went to school together,” Shiloh said.
“They were best friends,” Lois added. “Birds of a feather.” She was twisting in her seat to look at Junie. “You look so much like your mommy.”
“No,” Junie said. “I have brown hair, and Mommy has black hair. And I have blue eyes, and Mommy has brown eyes.”
“You look just like her,” Cary said, looking down at Junie, unsmiling.
“No!” Junie said, covering her face.
“No!” Gus echoed, whimpering.
“Don’t mind Gus,” Shiloh said. “He’s going through a blue period.”
“We don’t mind Gus.” Lois patted Shiloh’s arm. “He’s perfect. I’ve got some candy—can they have candy?”
“No,” Cary said.
“Let Shiloh decide.” Lois was already reaching for her purse, struggling against the seat belt.
“It’s diabetic hard candy,” he said.
“It’s not diabetic,” his mom grumbled. “It’s sugar-free.”
Gus’s whimpers were getting louder.
“Actually,” Shiloh said, “if you don’t mind Disney music...” She turned up the CD. “They like to sing.”
Junie was aghast. “Mommy, I can’t sing in front of people!”
“That is patently untrue,” Shiloh muttered.
“I don’t mind singing in front of people,” Lois said. “I know this one.” It was “The Bare Necessities.” She started singing,
much louder than Shiloh was expecting. “Forget about your worries and your strife.”
Gus stopped crying to stare at her.
Junie started laughing. “I think Gus likes your voice!”
“You better sing with me,” Lois said.
Junie started singing, hiding her face.
They kept singing all the way downtown. Junie very quickly forgot that she was hiding. She asked Cary if he’d like to sing,
too.
“I’m sorry,” he said seriously. “I have too much on my mind.”
After two songs, Lois said she had to catch her breath, so Shiloh sang with Junie instead.
When they got to the bank, Shiloh had to double-park to let them out. Cary leaned forward. “This might take a few minutes,”
he said to Shiloh.
“Do what you need to do. We’ll be fine.”
He nodded. “Mom, wait for me to help you out.” He turned to Gus. “Gus, I’m climbing over you this time.”
“No!” Gus said.
Cary did it anyway, but then couldn’t open the door.
“Shit.” Shiloh put the car in park. “I’ve got to let you out. Hang on.”
“Oh my good LORD,” Junie said.
Shiloh opened the back door, and Cary practically fell out of the car.
“Sorry,” she said, turning off the child-safety lock.
He looked up at her. “Stop apologizing. You’re saving the day.”
Cary hurried over to help his mom, who hadn’t waited for him and was stepping out into the street.
They should have made a plan to meet again—Shiloh should have given Cary her number. There was nowhere close to park. Shiloh
decided to just circle the block. But then Gus pooped his diaper.
“Mommy,” Junie said, clutching her throat. “I can’t even breathe .”
Shiloh drove until she found a parking lot, then changed Gus under the hatchback of the car. Junie complained the whole time.
Shiloh tried to talk to Gus about the freedom of potty-trained living. He alternately cried and ignored her.
Then they drove around some more to find a trash can. Shiloh rolled all the windows down, and Junie was sure she was going
to freeze “to death .”
By the time they got back to the bank, Cary and his mom were standing outside. He was trying to shield her from the wind.
“Sorry!” Shiloh called out, before they were even in the car. “We had a diaper emergency.”
“I know all about those,” Lois said breathlessly. Cary was getting her settled. “Don’t get hit by a car,” she told him.
He climbed over Gus again.
“Sorry,” Shiloh said.
“We’d just walked out,” Cary said. “Electric company next?”
“Yep.”
The power company was only a few minutes away, and there was parking. Lois stayed in the car while Cary went in to pay the
bill. Shiloh turned up the heat.
“I’m lucky to have a son like that,” Lois said, watching him walk away. “That boy’s never had an irresponsible day in his
life—he was still taking care of me when he was in Japan.”
Shiloh smiled. She wasn’t sure what to say. Gus started crying again, angrily. Junie was trying to hand him a book. He slapped
it away.
“Gus,” Shiloh said, “I know you’re unhappy, but you have to be kind.”
Lois turned as much as she could to look into the back seat. “Should we sing some more, Gus?”
“No,” he snarled. “Don’t talk to me!”
“Poor Gus,” she said, and then to Shiloh—“Are you sure they can’t have candy?”
“They don’t need candy,” Shiloh said. “I’m already bribing them with McDonald’s.”
“Grandma Lois,” Junie said politely, “would you like to go to McDonald’s with us?”
“I love McDonald’s,” Lois said.
They decided to listen to Disney songs again, and everyone but Gus sang along. He seemed mildly mollified by that.
Cary’s step was noticeably lighter when he walked back toward the car. Shiloh got up and let Junie out of her seat so that
Cary could climb in more easily.
“All good?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said, sounding relieved. “Thanks.”
He got into the car.
Junie climbed in after him. She covered her face. “I forgot your name,” she said.
“It’s Cary.”
She dropped her hands. “Cary, would you like some McDonald’s?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I really would.”
Even Gus cheered up once they were in the McDonald’s drive-through.
The kids got Happy Meals. Cary got a Big Mac and an orange drink.
“What’s an orange drink?” Junie asked.
“It’s the best drink,” he said.
“Well, I will have to try it sometime.”
They listened to Disney songs on the way home, and everyone sang. Even Cary. It had been a million years since Shiloh had
heard him sing—but she’d heard him sing a million times. She tried not to catch his eyes in the mirror.
“Don’t sing with your mouth full,” Cary told Junie.
Gus liked “Go the Distance” best, and no one minded if they listened to it three times in a row. Everyone in the car just
seemed relieved, generally speaking.
When they got to Cary’s house, Lois had to use the bathroom, so they didn’t spend much time on goodbyes.
“I’m going to invite you over for fried chicken,” Lois told Junie.
“Okay,” Junie said, “thank you.”
Shiloh didn’t get out of the car to help. Cary seemed to have it under control.
He looked back at her when he got to the porch.
She waved.
“It feels good to help people,” Junie said primly.
Shiloh nodded.