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just being the two of us, all that stuff would rot.
    Elaine and Brian ha ve their customers, though. Behind the neat adobe-facadehouse they live in i s a cluster of six small cabins. In a college town you c an rent them out during the year and then make more money in the summer, renting to small families.
    The Yates B&B i s their only business now. The Drug Enforcement Agency and the local police saw to that. Once the police claimed my dad was a drug dealer, anything he possessed was seized, including his half of the bar.
    But you can’t continue to operate half a bar. Brian ha s suffered, too.
    The body wash smells like coconut and it makes me happy. I stop thinking about the bad and wonder what Amy’s like now . She used to dye her hair a different color every week, just to piss off her mom . Three years of nothing but phone calls and texts separates us. I hope we can reconnect.
    I know we can. She’s my anchor. W ithDad gone, it’s her, Elaine and Brian.
    I wish it could be Mark, too.
    Because I’m already wet, the shower is faster than you’d think. Long hair takes time to wash, but getting it wet enough for a good lather is half the battle. Mother Nature already took care of that part. As I step out into the steamy bathroom I feel a bit faint suddenly. When did I eat something last?
    Oh. An energy bar somewherenear Albuquerque .
    Elaine will have a feast spread out when I go downstairs, I know. My stomach gurgles as if prompted. I chuckle, and it gurgles again, like it’s in on some joke.
    Maybe the joke is on me.
    I pull the enormous beach towel around my body and open the bathroom door slowly, peeking out. I don’t know what to do with my wet clothes, so for now I pile them in the tub. They fall withan enormous plop. They’re that wet.
    The tapping sound of raindrops on the roo f confirms it’s still raining. I wonder if Mark’s okay. If the call was dangerous.
    I wonder w hether he’s thinking about me right this instant.
    Two steps out of the bathroom and I crash into a large body. My hands panic and reach out, letting the towel slip, cold air hitting my bare breast.
    “What the hell?” says avoice I know all too well. There’s mirth in it, and then those blue eyes. Mikey, now seventeen and a lot taller than he was three years ago when I left. His eyes brush over my arm as I pu l l the towel up to my jawline. He turns away quickly, face turning a flaming red .
    “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” he says with laughter in his voice. Puberty has changed his timbre completely, and filledhim out, too. Gone is the gangly teenager I saw last. Long gone is the little boy I babysat so many times.
    “That’s not funny,” I snap back. I want to run into his room, where Elaine said Brian put my bag, but this isn’t little Mikey any more. His back is to me and I see how broad his shoulders are. His hair is overgrown at the collar, blonde like his dad’s and turned up. Cords stand out in hisneck. Does he still play football? It’s like my little brother went and got tall. I have so many questions for him.
    “Go on in my room,” he says in a friendly voice. “It’s kind of icky to think about you naked under that towel.”
    “MIKEY!” Elaine thunders as she reappears . She sounds like one of those stout opera singers dressed like a female viking.
    “Ma!” he whines. I instantly relax. He’s thesame boy, all right. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong!” He runs down the stairs and I hear laughter explode in the distance.
    “That boy,” she says, sighing. But she’s smiling. “He’s grown up, hasn’t h e?”
    “We all have,” I say, suddenly awkward. Standing in front of her naked under the towel makes me feel e xposed. Vulnerable.
    It makes my stomach hurt.
    “ Go! Go,” she insists, pushing on my shoulderstoward Mikey’s room. “Get on some dry clothes and come on downstairs. We’ll eat and play cards.”  
    “Get out your nickels, Carrie!” Mikey calls up. “We need a new