Chapter 16: Spare Room

Birdie didn't come to me in the hallway.

She stood beside my mother with her rabbit and looked at the floor.

"Mama says you're going away."

I knelt on the tile so my face was lower than hers.

"I'm not going anywhere, bug. Not ever. Mama is wrong about that."

My mother's hand tightened on her shoulder. "Birdie, come on. The nice lady is waiting with the swab."

Birdie opened her mouth wide for the cotton, and she didn't look back.

That night she was a stranger.

On Saturday afternoon Brody drove her to Eli's gray house for the one supervised weekend the judge had allowed.

He carried her duffel bag and wore a clean shirt.

He had not had a drink since the dock.

"Mom picked me as the supervisor," he said on the porch. "She thinks I'm on her side."

"Are you?" Eli asked.

"I'm on the couch." My brother set the duffel down. "That's as much of a side as I've got."

Birdie walked in and looked around.

Eli had stuck a note with her name on the guest-room door.

He had bought a nightlight shaped like a moon.

"It's a spare room," he said, uneasy. "I wasn't sure what you liked."

Birdie touched the moon.

"Do you have grilled cheese?" she asked.

"I do," Eli said. "Do you want the triangles or the squares?"

She thought it over very seriously.

"Triangles," she said, and then, so quietly I almost missed it, "Nellie makes them."

I turned to the stove so she wouldn't see my face.

We ate at the counter, and she let Eli cut her sandwich.

She showed him her cartwheel in the hall.

She fell asleep in the spare room at eight, with the nightlight on and my hand on her hair.