you testify.”
“No, they won’t.” She sounded defiant, but he could see the doubt in her eyes. “Wayne said everything would be okay. He’s got really good lawyers.”
“He’s in big trouble, Christine.”
“They can’t put him in jail,” she insisted. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Tom didn’t argue; there was no point. When Christine spoke again, her voice was small and frightened.
“What am I supposed to do?” she asked. “Who’s gonna take care of me?”
“You can stay with us for as long as you want.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
This didn’t seem like the right time to tell her that he didn’t have any money, either. He and Max and Luis were technically volunteers, donating their time to the Healing Hug Movement in exchange for room and board and a paltry stipend. The only cash in his pocket had come from the envelope Christine had handed him when she’d arrived, two hundred dollars in twenties, the most money he’d seen in a long time.
“What about your family?” he asked. “Is that a possibility?”
“My family?” The idea seemed funny to her. “I can’t go back to my family. Not like this.”
“Like what?”
She tucked her chin, examining the front of her yellow T-shirt, as if searching for a stain. She had narrow shoulders and very small breasts, hardly there at all.
“Didn’t they tell you?” She ran her palm over her flat belly, smoothing the wrinkles from her shirt.
“Tell me what?”
When she looked up, her eyes were shining.
“I’m pregnant,” she said. He could hear the pride in her voice, a dreamy sense of wonder. “I’m the One.”
Part Two
MAPLETON MEANS FUN
THE CARPE DIEM
JILL AND AIMEE HEADED OUT right after dinner, cheerfully informing Kevin that they didn’t know where they were going, what they were doing, who they would be with, or when they might be home.
“Late,” was all Jill could tell him.
“Yeah,” agreed Aimee. “Don’t wait up.”
“It’s a school night,” Kevin reminded them, not bothering to add, as he sometimes did, that it was odd how going nowhere and doing nothing could take up so much time. The joke just didn’t seem that funny anymore. “Why don’t you try to stay sober for once? See what it’s like to wake up in the morning with a clear head.”
The girls nodded earnestly, assuring him that they had every intention of heeding this excellent advice.
“And be careful,” he continued. “There are a lot of freaks out there.”
Aimee grunted knowingly, as if to say that no one needed to tell her about freaks. She was wearing kneesocks and a short cheerleader skirt—light blue, not the maroon and gold of Mapleton High—and had deployed her usual unsubtle arsenal of cosmetics.
“We’ll be careful,” she promised.
Jill rolled her eyes, unimpressed by her friend’s good-girl act.
“You’re the biggest freak of all,” she told Aimee. Then, to Kevin, she added, “She’s the one people need to watch out for.”
Aimee protested, but it was hard to take her seriously, given that she looked less like an innocent schoolgirl than a stripper halfheartedly pretending to be one. Jill gave the opposite impression—a scrawny child playing dress-up—in her cuffed jeans and the oversized suede coat she’d borrowed from her mother’s closet. Kevin experienced the usual mixed feelings seeing them together: a vague sadness for his daughter, who was so clearly the sidekick in this duo, but also a kind of relief rooted in the thought—or at least the hope—that her unprepossessing appearance might function as a form of protective camouflage out in the world.
“Just watch out for yourselves,” Kevin told them.
He hugged the girls good night, then stood in the doorway as they headed down the stairs and across the lawn. He’d tried for a while to restrict his hugs to his own child, but Aimee didn’t like being left out. It was awkward at first—he was far too
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