15

Arnie pushed the door of his house open and peeked inside. The television was on.

"Hey, kids," he said.

The three teenagers on the couch looked up.

"This is my friend, Linda." He introduced each kid and family connection. In the back of his mind, all he could think about was how weird it was to have Linda in his house. When they'd first met, he'd always wanted to bring her to his home place and show her around. Now she was here and he felt strangely unsure of himself.

All three kids jumped up. They gave Linda a careful once-over. "Bye, Uncle Arnie," one of them called as they left.

"Welcome to my tiny house." He used the remote to turn off the TV and opened the curtains to bring in the daylight. The kids had left a bag of chips and some open cans of soda on the coffee table.

Arnie picked up the sodas, still half full, and took them to the sink.

"You trust them by themselves?" Linda took her time looking around the room. She paused to scan his bookshelf.

Arnie laughed. "They're family."

"Do you know how teen parents are made? You don't think about them bringing their boyfriends and girlfriends and calling this the make-out house?"

After a pause, Arnie said, "Now I do. I hope you're okay with meat and bread for lunch because that's what we're having."

"I'm starving. Anything is fine. Bathroom?"

Arnie pointed down the hall. As soon as she closed the door, he worried whether it was clean enough. He opened the fridge and pulled out the leftover meatloaf and gravy and set it to reheat.

Linda returned and didn't have a look of horror, so it must have been okay. She walked around the main room studying the old photos and heirlooms on the walls. Arnie opened a bag of dinner rolls and threw a few in foil and put them in the oven. He pulled the butter out of the refrigerator.

"How long have you lived here?" she asked.

"When I got home from college there was an ancient mobile home on this lot. I lived in that for a year and, after freezing my ass off all winter, convinced the family to help build this. I know it's small. I always figured if my situation changed, I could knock out a wall and build on." By situation change, he meant starting a family. He'd had a version of this conversation with Katie, at her instigation. That woman loved to seize on a project. She’d sketched out some ideas for rearranging the place—knock down that wall and put a master bed and bath on this side—like it was an undertaking for them together. They were not on the same page in the relationship, that was for sure.

Linda nodded. "Sounds about right. The house Granny lives in started out as a two-room cabin. They did two additions but not like they examined what they had to make a plan. They would add something on and then cut a door in the wall. It's a funny old house. I haven't been there in ages."

"Coffee?" he asked, surprised by a flare of nerves like he'd brought home a date and wasn't confident how to proceed.

"I can make coffee," Linda said.

Arnie pulled a filter out of a drawer, intending to toss it on the counter, but it fell to the floor. He grabbed another one. "Coffee beans in the freezer. Grinder on the counter. This is the extent of my hosting. If there's something you want, help yourself."

Everything he said sounded like it had two meanings.

Linda prepared the coffee with ease, more at home in his kitchen than he was at the moment.

She said, "Those photos, the historical ones. All family?"

"I come from a long line of leaders," he said.

"I've heard all about your family." She gave him a patient smile.

"Right," he said. He put plates and utensils on the counter. "Coffee cups are in that cupboard."

They each prepared a plate and carried it to the table.

"Not bad for sad bachelor food," Arnie said.

"Since when are you a sad bachelor?" Linda said, her lips turning up into a bemused smile.

Arnie didn't know why he’d said that. The joke fell flat. "I meant I eat like one."

There was the sound of tires in the driveway, and a familiar truck flashed by the window.

Terrific.

"That's my mom. The kids must have mentioned your name. I should have known she would want to meet you."

A strange look passed over Linda's face. "How does she know who I am?"

There was a knock on the door.

"You can come in, Mom," Arnie yelled.

Diane Jackson, professional busybody, charged into the room while dragging a bulky plastic bag. She had short hair that she dyed dark brown to hide the gray, and eyes that missed nothing. His entire life he couldn't get away with anything. He'd throw a rock at a car on one side of the rez and thirty seconds after he arrived home, Mom would know and punish him for it.

"Grandma replaced her comforter, but the old one was practically new. I thought you might—" She feigned surprise at seeing someone there as she gave Linda a careful look. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Nothing that can't be interrupted by Grandma's blanket," Arnie said.

"It's a comforter," she said.

"Mom, this is my colleague, Linda. She's meeting with some folks after the budget and planning meeting."

"Why aren't you there?"

"Because I'm here." He got up and took the bag with the feeble-excuse-for-a-visit comforter and threw it in the guest room. "Thanks. Linda is borrowing the green car because…well, it's a long story. Linda, this is my mom, Diane."

"Nice to finally meet you," Linda said, wiping her mouth and standing up.

"The kids said you had someone here and I wanted to see what was going on," Diane said, her cover story already forgotten. "What about—?"

"She didn't come with me this weekend," Arnie said, not wanting to explain everything in front of Linda.

"Is everything—?"

"Mom, do you remember when I was young and complained about your nose in all of my business? You said when I grew up and paid my own bills then you would leave me alone. Remember that?"

Mom made a production of thinking it over. "Not really." She turned her attention back to Linda. "And you're lending her the green car? I thought you were friends."

"It's not that bad. She only needs it for one day." To Linda, he said, "You won't have any problem with it, promise. I'll be back in town next week if there is any trouble."

Arnie hoped this wouldn't be weird, but his hopes were quickly dashed. His mom pulled out a chair to sit with them. "I remember stories about Linda when you two were in college. I can't believe we never met before. I thought he'd bring you here eventually, but it never happened."

"If I had a chance to go home, I wanted mine," Linda said, clearly enjoying this bizarre interruption.

"Will you be staying for dinner?" His mom eyed their plates, no doubt preparing a lecture for later about how poorly he fed his guests.

"I can't today. I've been busy with company, and I need to get back home so I can get organized around the house," Linda said with complete seriousness.

Arnie stifled a laugh. Linda was a competent mastermind in many fields, but organization was not one of them.

"We'll try to change your mind. I know others in the family would love to meet you."

Arnie urged her to leave using the power of his glare. "Thanks, Mom. We have to work now."

She ignored him. "How late will the meeting go? You'll need dinner if it's late."

"Hard to say," Arnie said. He got up from the table and took his empty plate to the sink.

"You're welcome if you change your mind," Mom said.

Linda turned into the woman who knew how to bend people to her will as politely as possible. "I appreciate your generous offer," she said. "Another time, for sure."

"I will hold you to that," Mom said, with no doubt that she meant it. She gave Arnie a knowing look as she left.

Linda continued eating while failing to pretend she wasn't amused. When the truck was gone, she said, "Relax, Arnie, I know how moms are, and I can see where you get your stubborn streak."

"You have no idea," Arnie said. "If the discussion goes too late you can stay here." He didn't know why he said it or even thought it. The words had popped out, pure hospitality, and now the idea of Linda spending the night made his mouth go dry. He hoped it didn't come to that.

"I wouldn't want to trouble you," she said.

"It wouldn't be trouble," Arnie said, not wanting her to dismiss the terrible idea so easily. "We're colleagues. There's a guest room. It has a lock, clean sheets. Grandma's comforter." Why would she need a lock on a guest room door? Also, the sheets were probably dirty.

"It's not that far to drive," Linda said. There was a long pause before she added, "I think it would be awkward."

"What if Ester needed a place to stay? Would that be awkward?" Why was he still talking about this? Of course she would want to go back, she had her own thing going with ol' whatshisname.

Linda took her plate and coffee cup to the kitchen and put them in the sink. "I guess not, but I'm sure I'll have plenty of time to get home, so we don't have to worry about it."