Puck stood balanced on the bumper of the truck, staring down at Ozzie, and rubbing his head with both hands. He mumbled incoherently and then shook his hands in the air. Tugging unnecessarily at his too-big pants, he flashed his ankles again as he stalled.
“What’s the matter? I told ya, he won’t bite.”
Instead of jumping, Puck turned around and slowly climbed down, peeking over his shoulder at Ozzie in fear. When he stepped off into the gravel, Ozzie tucked his head and shoulders down with his butt wiggling up in the air and whined, asking for Puck’s attention.
“Don’t mind him. He’s doing his doggie yoga,” Grayson joked.
Puck giggled and hiked his pants up again. He bent down and hesitantly pet the dog, biting his lip in concentration. Soon, they were fast friends, with Puck throwing a stick and Ozzie fetching it while Puck chortled like a schoolboy with a very bad cold.
It was as though Grayson ceased to exist.
He left them to it and went in to get the burgers he had thawing on the counter. Regardless of his bizarre guest, it would be nice to not eat alone for the first time in days.
Puck stared down at his plate while Grayson tucked into his own food.
Oh, he’s praying. Grayson felt bad for starting too soon. While he was a Christian—or at least he considered himself one; he did believe in God after all—he didn’t often pray. Maybe he should. A small prayer for his family to finally show up safe and sound couldn’t hurt.
He put his burger down and lowered his own head, and while waiting respectfully for Puck to finish, he tried to formulate some semblance of a prayer of his own. Giving up, he silently spoke to The Big Guy: Just bring ‘em home soon, God.
A full minute passed and Grayson took a peek. Puck wasn’t praying; he was staring at his food. A slow tear trailed down his cheek.
Awkward.
The kid was probably missing his mother. Grayson cleared his throat. “What’s up, Puck?”
“I don’t like lettuce. Jenny likes lettuce.”
Oh for crying out loud.
Out of habit, Grayson had dressed Puck’s burger the same way he did for his daughter, Graysie: loaded.
He sighed and stood up, pulled the top bun off the burger and snatched the lettuce off and then dropped the top back onto it and sat down. “There. No lettuce. Now eat.”
Puck happily dug in as though the last few minutes hadn’t happened. He sat with his legs spread wide, taking up nearly one entire side. He was a big man. Or man-child. He clumsily gobbled his first burger down in four bites, smearing ketchup and mustard around his mouth. The boy was starving. He swiped at his mouth with his arm and dug into the second burger on his plate.
“Use your napkin, Puck.” Grayson lifted his own napkin and wiped his already-clean mouth in example. “How old are you?”
Puck frowned and rapid blinked his eyes. “Um… ten and eight?” he said through a mouth full of food.
“You’re eighteen?”
Puck nodded and kept chewing.
“What have you been eating for the past few days while your mama’s been gone?”
“Pork ‘n beans, mostly. Mama Dee didn’t get the circle lids last month. I can’t open the others. If I bring them over here, can you open them for me, mister gray man?”
“Grayson. My name is Grayson. You don’t have to call me mister, either. What’s a circle lid?”
“The ones you pull the circle and the top comes off.”
“Oh, a pull-top. I guess you can’t open the others because the power’s off? Don’t you have a handheld can opener?”
“Mama Dee does. I don’t know how to work it. I’m the only one who can open the jars though. She said we could eat three jars while she was gone. I ate those the first day. And Jenny ate some, too.”
“What was in the jars?”
“Mama Dee’s veggie soup, and some slimy green leafy stuff—Jenny ate that—and apple sauce. Me and Jenny shared that one.”
So Mama Dee knew how to can food. The green stuff sounded like collard greens. Or spinach. Hopefully she had a full pantry to feed Puck and Jenny until she returned.
“I think until Mama Dee gets back it would be okay to eat whatever you need, Puck. Just don’t eat too much. Maybe stick to the canned food for now. I can show you how to open a can. Jenny doesn’t know how either?”
“No.”
Maybe Jenny was special too?
“So, you said Jenny’s not your sister?”
“No. We’re not really kin.” Puck saved the last bite of his burger for Ozzie, who gently took it from his fingers and then closed his eyes as Puck rubbed his head and ran his hand down his back. The kid was obsessed with the dog. He’d seen Grayson pass Ozzie his own burger that was swallowed in pretty much one bite, but still shared his own food with him. Now that he was over his fear, he couldn’t keep his hands off of the dog, petting him constantly. “But I love Jenny.”
Grayson raised his eyebrows. Love like a sister? Or more? Maybe that’s why she was sleeping in the barn instead of the house. “You mean you love her like you love Mama Dee?”
He shook his head. “No. More. Jenny is pretty. I like her hair.” Puck smiled innocently.
Grayson studied the boy. With his size, maybe Jenny was sleeping in the barn because she was afraid of him. Maybe she didn’t love Puck like Puck loved her…
“Listen, kid. While Mama Dee is gone, it might be best if you sleep in the barn and let Jenny sleep in the house. You’re the man there, right? It makes more sense for the men to sleep outside.”
Puck pursed his lips together. “I don’t know if Mama Dee would like that. She doesn’t let me sleep in the barn. I wish Jenny could just stay in the house with me. I’m scared.”
Could be Mama Dee was more worried about the boy than the girl. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed and maybe he couldn’t be trusted to fend for himself outside. And if he was so scared in the house, he’d probably be terrified in the barn at night. It really wasn’t safe for either of them to be in the barn right now anyway, with those thugs having chased Puck up a tree. They might come back.
He’d never seen Puck’s home, but the neighbors had described it as a dilapidated shack in a clearing in the woods; run-down and crumbling. He probably needed to go over and check on these kids himself. But would Mama Dee be okay with that? People who live in squalor usually didn’t take kindly to strangers dropping by and maybe passing judgement.
“How many bedrooms is in your house, Puck?”
Puck held up first one finger, turned it around to look at it, and then another.
“Two? I’ll tell you what. You tell Jenny about those bad kids. Tell her until Mama Dee comes back you both need to stay in the house. There’s safety in numbers.”
“But if Mama Dee gets mad, can I tell her you said so?”
“Absolutely. Tell her I said so. But listen, you two need to sleep in separate rooms, okay? Maybe Jenny can sleep in Mama Dee’s bed.” He gave Puck a very serious fatherly stare. “No kissing or anything like that, is what I mean.”
Puck laughed—a loud honking noise that surprised both Grayson and Ozzie. “Jenny wouldn’t like that, Gray Man.” His angelic face turned solemn and wistful. With big eyes, he said, “Jenny lets me touch her hair sometimes. But then sometimes she gets mad and tries to kick me.”
This was sounding more and more creepy. Grayson was concerned about these two kids being alone, but apparently Jenny knew how to handle Puck if he got too handsy. He seemed almost afraid of her.