The Joyce Maynard Collection

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Book: Read The Joyce Maynard Collection for Free Online
Authors: Joyce Maynard
Tags: Fiction, Romance
he got out the window. They had her on-screen now, saying how he’d always been thoughtful and considerate with her. A good patient, though it had definitely come as a shock when he tied her up that way. In my mother’s eyes, this probably made him seem more trustworthy, knowing he hadn’t changed his story for us.
    The other thing they said on the news was what he was in for. Murder.
    Up until then, Frank hadn’t said anything. We were all just watching together, like this was Evening Magazine or some other show that came on at that hour. But when they said the part about how he’d killed somebody, you could see this place in his jaw twitch.
    They never explain the details, he said. It didn’t happen the way they’re going to say it did.
    On the television, they had gone back to regular programming now. A rerun of Happy Days.
    Adele, I need to ask if I can stay with you two for a period of time, Frank said. They’ll have a search out on all the highways and trains and buses. The one thing nobody expects is me sticking around.
    It wasn’t my mother who pointed out this next part. It was me. I didn’t want to mention it, because I liked him, and I didn’t want to make him mad, but it seemed important for someone to bring this up.
    Isn’t it against the law to harbor a criminal? I asked him, a fact I’d picked up from watching television. Then I felt bad that I’d used that word. Even though we hardly knew Frank at this point, it seemed mean to call this person who had bought me a puzzle book, and put in new lightbulbs all over the house, a criminal. He had complimented the color my mother had chosen to paint the kitchen—this certain shade of yellow that he said reminded him of buttercups on his grandma’s farm when he was growing up. He had told us we’d never eaten chili like he was going to make for us.
    You have a wise son here, Adele, Frank told her. It’s good to know he’s looking out for you. That’s everything a boy should do for his mother.
    It would only be a problem if someone found Frank here, my mother said. So long as nobody knows he came by, there’s no harm done.
    I knew the other part. My mother didn’t worry about laws. My mother didn’t go to church, but the one who looked after us, she said, was God.
    True enough, Frank said. But it’s still not acceptable to place you and your family here in jeopardy.
    Our family. He spoke of us as a family.
    This is why I’m going to tie you up, he said. Only you, Adele. Henry here knows he doesn’t want anything to happen to his mother. That’s the reason he won’t go to the police or call anyone. I’m correct on this, right, Henry?
    My mother, hearing this, did not move from her spot on the couch. Nobody said anything for a minute. We could hear the scraping of the wheel in Joe’s cage as he pawed his way in circles, the click of his little nails against the metal, and the hiss of the water on the stove from our Meal in Minutes dinner.
    I need to ask you to take me up to your bedroom, Adele, he said. I’m guessing a woman like you would have a few scarves. Silk is good. Rope or twine can cut into the skin.
    The door was four feet away from me, and still partly open from when we’d carried in the bags from our shopping. Across the street was the Jervises’ house, where Mrs. Jervis sometimes called out to me, when I went by on my bike, to comment on the weather. Beyond that, the Farnsworths, and the Edwardses, who had come over one time to ask my mother if she intended to rake our leaves anytime soon, because they’d started blowing onto other people’s lawns in the neighborhood. Every December, Mr. Edwards put up so many lights people from other towns drove by to see, which meant they often went by our house that time of year.
    People spend all this money putting up lights, my mother said. Did they ever hear of looking at the

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