“Fine with me,” said Hal. And although I thought he let Caleb off the hook too easily, it did give us more time to be alone.

“Okay,” said Audrey, “just let me go see your brother and then we’ll go.” She smiled at me, and Caleb followed her down the stairs.

Hal followed Caleb and Audrey, but I stayed put. Somehow I knew this group visit to the basement wasn’t for me. Alone in the kitchen, with Caleb’s game still paused on the big-screen TV, I surveyed the overflowing quantity of goulash. “Looks like we’ll have plenty of leftovers,” I said to the Final Fantasy warrior.

Thirteen

Cally

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 6, 2002

Night

When we got to the cabin, it was pitch-black outside. Digger parked the truck at the bottom of the driveway, shining the headlights onto the locked gate. He got out but left his door open, and cold air blew into the truck. It was too far for me to reach and pull shut, so I snuggled the baby close and waited.

In the headlights, Digger unlatched the long metal gate and pushed it open, skimming across the tops of drifted snow. He tossed his winter gloves at my feet and shifted into four-wheel drive, which was one of his favorite things to do. The long uphill driveway was covered with about a foot of fresh powder, only a few deer tracks, no signs of humans.

“You never told me you had a cabin,” I said, wondering if we were trespassing.

Digger focused on the snowy climb, leaned forward toward the windshield, and switched on the brights. “Yeah,” he mumbled, “it’s my uncle’s place.”

“The same uncle you worked for in Missouri?” I leaned forward with him, trying to see it.

“No, my uncle Charlie, on my mom’s side.”

“Oh,” I said, trying not to sound disappointed. I didn’t like Digger’s mother, and she didn’t like me. Didn’t like when I came to their house after school. That was one of the reasons we found other places to be alone together. That was also the reason I’d escape out his window and climb onto the roof of the garage whenever she came up the stairs calling his name. I’d get plenty of warning: her footsteps were loud under her large body. Her voice was like a man’s. She and I did not get along. But this cabin would be a perfect place for us to camp out.

The truck moved easily over the snow, and soon we were at the top of the hill. The trees were like dark statues, thick and tall. In the headlights, I strained to see: a simple rustic cabin and a shed, and more trees beyond.

“This is it,” he said.

“Does it have heat?” I said, peering as if I could tell by looking at it.