2 Crushed Read Online Free Page A

afternoons.
    He looked up and smiled. “Thanks,
Mom.” His attention immediately returned to the task at hand. He was a natural
at complicated directions and intricate details. Even at nine years old he
seemed to have an innate sense of how things fitted together. She relied on him
to direct her on any project that included boards, screws, or wrenches of any
kind.
    “What are you building there?” she
asked, glancing about the room. The pile of socks and shorts she’d folded and
left on the top of his dresser earlier was still there. She slid open the top
drawer and placed them inside.
    “It’s a replica of the space
station. I saw a picture on the Internet at school.” He pushed a tiny block in
place, his eyes narrowed into a squint. “But I’m not sure if this is right. I
think I might have to print out a copy.”
    Margaret ruffled his hair. “You’re
something else.” She headed for the door.
    “Billie’s brother is pretty cool,
isn’t he?” he said.
    She stopped, one hand on the
doorframe. “Why do you say that?”
    “He’s really good at soccer and he
has a guitar. I bet he can play that rock and roll you like.”
    She tried not to laugh. “I think
your cool meter is broken, babe. That guy was a jerk.”
    Davy narrowed his eyes as he
considered her view. “Maybe he’s like new wine. He just needs time to soak up
the flavors around here and you’ll like him better. I didn’t know if I liked
Billie when she first came and started living in Jack’s house,” he said, his
voice thoughtful, “ but now we’re like best friends.”
    “Yeah? Well I didn’t know about
Billie right away either, but I’m pretty sure I won’t change my mind about her
brother.”
    He stared up at her a moment.
“Don’t you like men, Mom?” he said finally, his blue eyes intent.
    The question struck her heart like
an arrow. She didn’t want Davy to think she was a man-hater, one of those women
that put all of the male species into one box. He was, after all, becoming one
of them. But lately she’d felt a growing tendency to blame everything wrong
with her world upon the macho sex.
    The rattle of the garage door
brought her son to his feet. “Uncle Handel!”   He ran past her, leaving the question
still hanging unanswered in the room.
    She followed him down the hall and
into the kitchen where Handel stood before the open refrigerator, staring
inside with a practiced eye. “What’s for dinner?” he asked without turning
around. He lifted the carton of orange juice and drank straight from the spout.
    Beloved brother or not, Margaret
wanted to throw herself at him and pummel him with her fists. Not because he
was drinking from the carton like a pig, although that annoyed her too, but
because he was acting as though this were any other day of the week. She‘d
waited patiently for his call all morning and afternoon, and he hadn’t had the
sense to pick up a phone. How could he walk in here and ask what’s for dinner
as though her whole world wasn’t ready to fall apart? She knew him too well to
think he’d actually forgotten to call. Something must have happened that he
could only relate in person. So she continued to wait, her arms crossed tightly
over her chest, jaw clenched in anticipation.
    “Uncle Handel, guess what?” Davy
interjected into the dark void of Margaret’s thoughts.
    Handel replaced the carton, let the
door swing shut, and slowly turned toward them. Margaret saw his face change
from somber to pleasantly cheerful, obviously for Davy’s benefit. Was that pity
she detected in his eyes when he glanced her way? It was hard to say. Her
brother was usually very adept at hiding his feelings. After all, he was a
lawyer.
    “Do I have to? I had a really long
day, Kid. Guessing takes energy, and I’m all out.” He slumped playfully against
the refrigerator as though he could barely stand upright.
    Davy grabbed Handel’s arm and
pulled him toward the kitchen table. “Sit down and I’ll tell