One for the Murphys Read Online Free

some time. A couple of months.”
    A. Couple. Of. Months. Those words took a long time to come out. Like she drew them as a line in the sky. I can’t stay here a couple of months. There must be something in my face, because she tilts her head and asks, “Carley? Haven’t you been in school since you’ve been in Connecticut?”
    I think for a second to lie but decide there’s no point. “Mymother said that I would learn more about the real world by living life rather than sitting at a desk.”
    Worry is written on her face. “Well, I’ll give you a few days to settle in, Carley, but I think it’s important that you go to school.” She pauses, then asks, “Why don’t you come down and help me make dinner?”
    “I’m not hungry.”
    “Now, I thought we agreed that you’d come to the table tonight.”
    I nod. And it turns out that “helping” with dinner is easy. She pours me a glass of milk while I sit on the counter. I am surprised to find she cares if I want a small or big glass and if I’d like a squirt of chocolate.
    I swing my feet, but seeing her glance over at my foot hitting the cabinets stops me. I can’t sit still, though. I try to come up with something to say that doesn’t sound dumb, but I can’t help thinking about my mother. Imagining her face and hearing her voice. Wondering if she’s going to be okay.
    Mrs. Murphy glances over at me. I know I should say something, but I worry about saying the wrong thing. I worry that I’ll make her mad. I worry that I shouldn’t have messed up her cabinet today. The only bright spot is that her husband is staying at the firehouse tonight.
    “So… uh, Mr. Murphy is a fireman?”
    “Yeah. And he’s like a little boy about it. Loves it. That… and the Red Sox.”
    “Does he usually stay there overnight like this?”
    “All the firefighters do. Actually, Jack’s the captain, so sometimes it’s a few days at a time.”
    I am relieved. “Does he get mad?” I blurt out.
    “Why would you ask that?”
    “I broke his picture upstairs. I was thinking he’d be mad.”
    She waves her hand in the air. “Honestly, Carley. Jack didn’t even notice that the picture disappeared.”
    I bite down on the rim of the glass. “But does he get mad about things?”
    “Jack? No.” She puts down the knife. Then she takes a step and reaches toward me. I lean away quick.
    “I’m sorry, Carley. I sense you like people to stay away from you.”
    My head wishes that, but the rest of me doesn’t.
    “Carley. Jack is a very good guy.” She tries to make eye contact. “You’re safe here.”
    She seems to believe I’m safe, but I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe again.
    Mrs. Murphy measures out water for some sauce on the stove. She adds a little, holds the measuring cup up to study it, pours a little out, studies it, adds a little, adds a little more, studies it, and finally pours it into the pan.
    I guess a little extra water would be deadly for us all. We didn’t even own measuring cups at home. My mother always said that one of those highball glasses from the casino was close enough to a cup.
    “Do you want help?” I ask, pointing at the lettuce. I am nervous about doing it the way she wants, but I ask anyway.
    “No, no. You relax. Just keep me company.”
    I can’t believe that anyone would ask me to keep them company. She must be nuts.
    “So,” she begins. “You grew up in Las Vegas. That must be an exciting place to live, huh?”
    “Not if you’re a kid. Can’t do anything, really.”
    “I see.” She washes a tomato. “Well, I grew up in a town that couldn’t be more different than Las Vegas.”
    I say nothing.
    “So, then, I guess you just moved to Connecticut recently?” she asks me.
    “Yeah.”
    “Do you like it?”
    Is she
kidding
me? “Not so far.”
    She seems flustered. “I’m so sorry, Carley. That was dumb.” She turns to me with such softness. “Do you need anything else? Are you comfortable?”
    “I’m good.” But