Chapter 6: The Easterly Boy

The Ohio buyer didn't answer my call that night.

He didn't answer my email either.

Sheree said he'd stopped answering hers on Thursday.

I flew to Lexington on Saturday with two suitcases and Granny's blanket in my carry-on, worried about what I'd find.

The Easterly boy was waiting at arrivals.

I hadn't seen Jeb Easterly since I was fifteen and he was a senior who never looked up from his truck engine.

He'd gotten bigger.

He was leaning against a post by the baggage carousel, six foot something of flannel, with a short dark beard and a pencil behind one ear.

There was sawdust in his hair.

He wasn't holding a sign. He wasn't holding anything.

He watched me walk all the way up to him without moving.

"Jeb?"

"Torrie."

That was it. That was the whole greeting.

He looked at my two suitcases.

"You bring the whole city?"

"Just the parts I like."

He picked up both suitcases and walked off.

I had to jog to catch him.

His truck was parked in the short-term lot. It was red under the dust, with a bed full of cut lumber and a fire company sticker on the back window.

He opened the passenger door for me, then shoved a chainsaw case off the seat.

"Sorry. I wasn't expecting company till Granddad told me last night."

"He told you last night? I called him on Tuesday."

"Granddad doesn't tell me things. He sends me places."

He got in and started the engine. It coughed twice before it caught.

We drove out of Lexington with the windows down.

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