Page 72 of Out of the Storm

“Swell!” Gary replied,reallyleaning into the word, only because he knew how much Jeff would enjoy it.

With a snort-scoff, Jeff said, “Come on, radio man. Time for me to meet your family.”

By the time the two of them arrived at Gary’s mom’s house, the sun had risen higher in the sky, and the summerlike heat was making both of them sweat, especially underneath their helmets. Jeff had muttered a few choice words on the ride over, lamenting that his hair was going to look like crud. And, well, probably it would. But Gary’d bet his life on it looking cute too.

After they parked their bikes, they removed their helmets. And boy, was Gary right.

Jeff wasa mess. With his hair sticking up every which way, he looked like someone who had stuck their finger in an electrical socket.

With a sour face, Jeff reached up to touch his hair. “Do I look like shit now?”

“Nah.”

“Liar,” Jeff said, walking over to Dawn’s car. He bent down so that he could see himself in one of the sideview mirrors and then tried to brush his hair back into place with his fingers He succeeded. Mostly. “Maybe I should wait outside.”

“Oh, you look cute. Stop worrying.”

Jeff just huffed and ran his hand through his hair one more time. Then Gary led Jeff over to the back door, which was pretty much never locked. He poked his head inside and was immediately hit with the smell of cigarette smoke—a permanent feature of his childhood home. He wrinkled his nose, stifling a burgeoning sneeze.

“Hello?” he called out as he pushed the door open all the way and made his way inside.

Jeff started to take off his shoes, but Gary shook his head to let him know not to bother. If either of them removed their footwear, his mom would probably make a comment about it. No one elsein the family ever removed their shoes in the house (except in the evenings). Better not to invite unnecessary commentary that could eventually turn into some kind of criticism.

Gary’s mom called from the living room. “Gare?”

“Yup, it’s me,” he called back. “I brought a friend too.”

Jeff followed Gary into the living room, where Gary saw his mother sitting in her favorite chair and smoking a cigarette while reading what looked to be a romance novel, which, in Gary’s experience, had never ceased to put her in a slightly foul mood.

“Hey, Mom.” Gary forced a smile. He thumbed over to Jeff. “This is my friend, Jeff.”

“Hi, Jeff. Sorry for the mess,” his mom said without looking up from her novel.

Other than a couple of bills that had piled up on the side table and a few ashtrays that were half-filled, the place was practically spotless.

“Uh, no problem,” Jeff said, glancing sideways at Gary with one eyebrow raised.

Gary would have to explain to Jeff later that his mom would have apologized for the mess even if the baseboards could pass a white-glove test. Was it that the cigarette smell made everything seem filthy to her? Maybe she ought to stop smoking, then. But, oh, he’d have to endure either a verbal smack or a woe-is-me monologue if he ever suggestedthatagain. He had learned that lesson back in high school.

So instead, Gary just cleared his throat nervously. “Where’s Dawn?” he asked, glad when his voice didn’t soundtoosmall.

His mom finally closed her book and looked up at him. “Don’t you want to spend time with your mother? I never hear from you.”

Gary shifted his weight from one foot to the other, fighting the urge to crumple in on himself. He dropped his eyes to the carpet.

“I’ve been busy.”

“I know, I know,” she said with a small sigh. “You’re a big-time local radio star now.”

Gary let out an uneasy laugh. Geez, she wouldn’t even let up in front of company, huh? How embarrassing. He looked over at Jeff with what he hoped would be an apologetic enough smile and then turned back to his mom.

“So . . . Dawn?”

“She’s upstairs.”

“Okay.” Gary turned to Jeff, his chest now tight with anxiety. “Do you want to come up?” he started, but then for whatever reason, he couldn’t help but backtrack, blurting out some stupid excuse for Jeff to no longer be in the house with him. “Or, hey, maybe you can take a look at my bike chain for me? I thought it seemed a little loose earlier.”

After a brief pause, Jeff offered a kind half-smile in return. “Sure.” He looked back at Gary’s mom. “Nice to meet you, Mrs.—or, uh, Ms.—Graham.”

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