Mercy pushes against the screen door with her shoulder, putting all of her weight into it. She can see Trudy on the other side, crouching down.
“Trudy! Move! ”
Speckles is licking Mercy’s face. She lifts her chin and turns her head away from the dog’s kisses and pushes harder against the door. Finally, Trudy stands up and staggers out of the way as Mercy and Speckles come tumbling out the door. Mercy regains her composure and walks toward her mother. At least, she thinks it’s her mother. There is something about her that puts Mercy off, that doesn’t look quite right. She casts a glance at Fenton. She doesn’t like the way his leather belt seems to go diagonally across his skinny body and the way he hunches over at the shoulders. And she doesn’t think she likes his twitchy face.
Mercy almost can’t look at Tammy; she is so beautiful, so confusing. Her hair is so shiny and her eyes are pale and blue. Wolf eyes, she thinks. Is this really her mother? Tammy crouches down to Mercy’s level, but Mercy holds out a hand, keeping her at bay. She is afraid. Plus, there is something else she needs to do. “Just wait. I’ll be right back. I need to talk to Grandma Claire.”
Mercy and Speckles continue down the long driveway toward Claire and the man. It looks as if there has been an accident: the driver doors of both vehicles stand open; Claire’s car is still running, and a bell sounds from inside. Ding, ding, ding. Darren and Claire stand there with their arms at their sides, looking each other up and down, as if checking for injuries. They are crying and laughing at the same time. This makes no sense to Mercy. She doesn’t understand why anyone would do this. She has only ever done one thing or the other: laugh or cry. She is never happy and sad at the same time.
“Grandma Claire, what is it?” Speckles is weaving in and out of the feet of the adults, whining. “Are you happy or are you sad?”
Claire thinks that, for once, everything looks beautiful through her tears. Everybody and everything is watery and shining. “Oh, I’m happy, hon. Just a little worn out.”
“She cries all the time, you know.” Mercy directs this to Darren. “Here.” Mercy takes one of Darren’s hands and one of Claire’s and brings them together as though they are shaking hands. They hold on and squeeze.
“There,” says Mercy. “Try that.”