The Moon and More(26)
Author: Sarah Dessen

“Right.” I found the envelope, got them a bag, and handed both over. “Have you stayed with us before?”

“Yep,” she replied. “Just hope the air conditioner works this year.”

“Call us with any problems. Have a great week!” They drove off. I looked at Morris, saying, “You have another job? Since when? And doing what?”

He nodded towards the front of the office. “Working for them.”

A minivan, radio blaring, was pulling up right as he said this. So it was with the number one song of the summer so far—a bouncy dance track called “Mr. Right Now”—playing in my ear that I looked over to see Theo and his boss, Ivy, standing by their white van. They were talking to Margo, and all of them were looking right at me.

*   *   *

“I told you,” I said again. “I don’t even know Clyde.”

We were inside now, in the conference room. Normally I would have been thrilled to be relieved of sandbox duty—Rebecca was suffering temporarily instead—but this kind of third degree was not really an improvement.

“Theo was under the impression that you did,” Ivy said. She wore jeans and a black tank top, her arms pale and sinewy, and she folded and unfolded her sunglasses. “And we could really use some help reaching out to him.

“Why don’t you get in touch with him?” I asked Margo.

“I’ve been away at school for four years,” she replied, glancing at Ivy. She was so clearly starstruck, or New York–struck, or just struck, it was embarrassing. All it took was the word movie or something similar and she threw Clyde, and me, right under the bus. “I don’t know anybody here anymore.”

I would have liked to point out, for the record, that she’d only been a couple of hours away, not overseas. “I don’t know Clyde either,” I said again.

Ivy looked at Theo, her expression displeased.

“So you’ve never had contact with him?” he asked me. For the first time, I realized he looked kind of nervous. There was that flush again. “Because I thought—”

“I mean, I’ve met him a few times,” I said. Which was a huge mistake, because they both literally leaned forward, hearing this. “But he’s a pretty private person.”

“This is a ridiculously small town, though,” Ivy pointed out. “Can’t be too private.”

I glanced at Margo, to see if she was equally offended by the use of the word ridiculously, but she was too busy checking out Ivy’s bag, a big leather number with a bunch of buckles. “He does a pretty good job flying under the radar.”

“Which is why,” she replied, leaning forward again, “we need you, Emaline. We’re not from here, don’t know the back roads and locals. If we want that part of Clyde’s life accurately represented, we need someone to help us get to them.”

I could practically feel Margo breathing, she was so excited by this prospect. Bet she was sorry now she claimed to be all worldly and distanced from Colby. I couldn’t savor this, though, because I was looking at Theo, whose expression could only be described as pleading. Crap.

“I can’t bring you to Clyde,” I told them both. Theo’s shoulders slumped, just slightly, and Ivy shot him a look. I swallowed. “But I can . . . I mean, I guess I could show you around Colby.”

The minute I said this, I knew it was a mistake. I didn’t know Ivy well, but I had a hunch that once you gave her something approximating what she wanted, she wouldn’t let up until she got it all.

“Wonderful,” she said now, smiling at me. “We’ll start this afternoon. Yes?”

“I have to work here,” I say.

“Only until six,” Margo piped up, clearly having now moved on to directing the bus in what was, exactly, the best way to run me over.

“Then why don’t you come over to the house around seven.” Ivy pushed out her chair, getting to her feet. “We’ll talk, figure out a game plan. Yes?”

I didn’t answer, not that she was waiting for me to do so. As Theo moved to follow her, I started to glare at Margo, only to realize he was trying to catch my eye. Ivy was already halfway down the hallway as he mouthed the words thank you. I nodded, despite myself, and then he was jogging after her, towards the exit.

“Well, isn’t that something,” Margo said, watching them go. “Someone’s shooting a movie right here in Colby.”

“It’s not a movie, it’s a documentary,” I told her.

“Either way, it’s interesting.” She craned her neck, keeping them in sight as they got in the van.

I saw Morris was with them as well, sliding open the back door. Earlier, he’d explained to me that he was in the Wave Nails parking lot, having just visited Daisy, when Theo approached and asked if he wanted to make some quick money toting boxes. Fifteen minutes later, he was at the Shipping Depot, unloading cartons. When Theo asked him if he knew anyone who was really familiar with either Clyde or Colby in general, Morris immediately thought of me. What a coincidence.

“I didn’t know you were already friends,” he’d said, as I handed over another envelope to a family in a car with Delaware plates.

“We’re not,” I’d told him. “We just met when I did a vip drop-off over there.”

He looked at Theo again, then back at me. “Huh.”

Morris was not one for innuendo. It was pretty much beyond him. What you saw was what you got, which was alternately refreshing or frustrating, depending on the situation. “What?”

“I dunno,” he said, as the next car pulled up. “He just acted like he knew you well, or something.”

“Really.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “But maybe he’s just like that with everyone.”

Saying this, he had been assuming a lot himself, but I figured it wasn’t worth pointing it out. Still, now, as I watched them leave, I wondered how, exactly, I’d come to feel like I owed Theo anything, especially something I couldn’t even promise to deliver. It couldn’t just be that he was cute when he blushed. And what a weird coincidence that Morris now, too, had been sucked into his orbit, making our paths cross once more. On the flip side, it wasn’t like it was so difficult to find connections. This was, after all, a ridiculously small town.

*   *   *

At six thirty, I finally left the sandbox to go home, exhausted. I was so worn out, in fact, that when I started down the hallway towards my room and saw the door ajar, the sound of a TV drifting out, all I could muster was a loud sigh.