Asking for Trouble Read Online Free PDF Page A

can’t go out like that. It’s cold out there.
Don’t you have something warmer? And what about a hat? And gloves?”
    He straightened up, stuffed his hands into the pockets of
the worn black leather bomber jacket. “I’m good.”
    “It’s supposed to drop into the thirties today,” she said.
“It’s probably there already.” She shoved the refrigerator door shut and hustled
into the laundry room, taking Joe by the upper arms and moving him out of the
way as if he were one of her own boys. She shooed her children out the back
door and onto the porch before opening a worn pine dresser in one corner of the
room, dug inside for a while and came out with a black watch cap and a pair of
brown gloves, handed them to him, then flipped quickly through pegs of coats
and sweaters, pulled a brown plaid woolen jacket out from underneath a couple
rain jackets, and shoved it into his arms as well. “There. All set. You can
keep the hat and gloves. I wish you could keep that ratty old jacket too, but
that’s Dave’s leaf-raking jacket. I’ve been trying to get rid of it for years,
but he won’t let me.”
    He pulled the jacket on over the black leather, because she
clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer, and under her watchful eye, put the hat
on as well. “Thanks. I’ll borrow them, then. But I don’t need a hat. Or
gloves.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said impatiently. “I don’t even
know whose those were. Some friend of the boys’, probably, leaving his
belongings behind and driving his mother crazy. You’re doing me a favor, saving
me donating them like I should have already.”
    He was outmatched, so he mumbled his thanks and went out to
join the others as the proud new owner of a hat and gloves. And it was probably
just as well, because the air had turned
colder, must have been down into the thirties already, like she’d said. Low
clouds had turned the sky to a leaden gray, and a dampness in the air spoke of
rain to come.
    They set off, Joe behind Alec and Gabe on the shoulder of
the quiet street. More of that 1950s sitcom stuff. No sidewalks, just the big
trees lining the street on both sides as far as he could see, a final few
leaves still clinging that would fall in the coming storm. And Alyssa next to
him, of course, a blue knitted hat with a perky pompom covering the dark hair,
a puffy blue jacket zipped against the cold, seeming to bounce on her toes as
she walked.
    “They’re in Twin World,” she said, nodding ahead at her
brothers. “Bonding time. It’s what they do. No outsiders allowed, back to the
womb.”
    Joe shrugged. “That’s OK.”
    “Do you have brothers and sisters?”
    “A sister. Half-sister.”
    “Older or younger?”
    “Older. Four years.”
    “So . . .” She hesitated, then went on. “Is your mom far
away, then? And your sister? Is that why you aren’t home for Christmas?”
    Here they were, the questions, and even though he’d been
expecting them, he tensed all the same. “Yeah. My sister’s in Alaska.”
    It diverted her, as he’d hoped. “You mean she lives there? I
never think about people actually living in Alaska. Did you live there too?”
    “No. She’s in the Air Force. On a base outside of
Fairbanks.”
    “Have you been there? To visit her?”
    “No.”
    “So do you get to see her? I can’t imagine not seeing my
brothers. Not at Christmas.”
    “Not for a while.” Not for a few years, and then it had been
quick, a couple hours at the airport during a layover on Cheryl’s way to a new
duty station. But he didn’t tell Alyssa that. “You’re on the basketball team,
huh?” he asked, trying to think of something new to talk about. Conversation
had never been his strong suit. “Varsity?”
    She laughed up at him. “I wish. JV, but I really hope I can
make Varsity before I’m a sophomore. There’s this girl, Colleen Fitzhugh? She’s
a sophomore this year, but I know she made Varsity in her freshman season, so I
think I can do it.