THE LID of the barbecue is closed; a pot is steaming over the coals in the brick fire pit, reminding me of my dream. When I walk into the kitchen, Caramel runs at me, wiggles his butt, and licks my hand. The ceiling fan is whirring. Marigold’s leaning against the counter while Rolf is stationed by the sink like a soldier on duty. Tully’s sitting at the table. They all stare at me. No one says hello.

“What’s up?” I say. “Where’s Cassie?”

Marigold says, “She fell asleep in front of the TV. She seemed tired today.”

She’s entitled. Seeing as how Floyd did a number on her yesterday. If I said that, what would happen? Nerves are crawling under my skin.

Rolf says, spacing his words, “Are you a bully, Brick? Or am I out to lunch?”

My turn to stare. At him, then at Tully. She raises her chin, her cheeks flushed. She must have weaseled the truth out of Glenn yesterday.

I just about spit the words at her. “You saw me with Glenn yesterday morning. Why’d you wait this long to tell your dad?”

“I told him right after Glenn told me. But then Dad got called to a power outage in Collings Head after a truck hit a light pole, and he was out until late.” She stands up, her cheeks a deeper shade of red. “What does the timing matter? You’ve been bullying Glenn for months. Right here on the road. He’s my friend. Not that you’d understand that word.”

I wonder if he told her how I made him cry.

She says flatly, “I should have twigged to you that day by the ladder.”

Rolf tugs his ear. “I’d trust Tully’s word on anything—but I sure didn’t want to believe her yesterday. I was on the early shift today, so I didn’t have the chance to tell Marigold until an hour ago ... I don’t do anything without talking to Marigold.”

I wish he’d hurry up.

“You haven’t answered the question,” he says.

The question. Oh yeah. Am I a bully.

I go for the truth. Well, I hope it’s the truth. “I quit.”

“You’ve bullied Glenn and the Meisner kid and the Donovans.”

“Yes. But—“

“So you’re a bully at school, at the store, and right here on the road. Other places too, likely. I told you I can’t abide strong-arm stuff. Guess you didn’t hear me.”

“I did. I heard you. Like I said, I’m trying to quit.”

“Quit? Punching a kid out isn’t the same as dragging on a cigarette,” he says. “Do you bully your sister?”

“No!”

“Bullies pick on kids who are smaller than them. Weaker. More vulnerable.”

“I’ve never touched Cassie.”