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SEE HIM COMING
He looked down at his feet, back at me. I felt the full weight of his gaze. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
My mother came up behind me. “Let him in,” she said to me, but didn’t reach for the door herself.
“Who is he?”
“He’s Frank’s boy,” she said, looking at me sheepishly, then at him.
“You knew he was coming?”
“I knew he might come,” she said, turning her face back to me but keeping her eyes on him, as though she couldn’t pull her gaze away.
“And?” I said, feeling my stomach clench.
“And now he might stay on here awhile."
“Where?” I said. “There’s no room for him.”
She nodded over toward the couch. It was small and dirty, uncomfortable even to sit on, never mind sleep. “There. Just for a few nights. Don’t worry; I’m not going to give him your room.&r
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