The Family Fang - Kevin Wilson [76]
When Buster opened the front door of his parents’ house, he found Suzanne Crosby standing on the porch with a garden salad and a tray of lasagna. “Is this a bad time?” she asked. “No,” Buster said, accepting the food, before he frowned and made some effort to clarify his previous statement. “It is a bad time,” Buster said, “but you should still come in.” Suzanne answered, “I can’t stay long anyway,” and then walked inside.
Buster wondered how long it had been since a non-Fang had entered the house. Months? Years? He had the initial desire to tell Suzanne about the momentousness of the event, and then realized how creepy it would sound and so he resisted the urge. He led Suzanne into the kitchen, where Annie was still staring at the paper, the pen held in such a way that she seemed ready to stab someone with it.
Buster stood in front of Suzanne, blocking her from Annie’s view, and presented the food to his sister. “Did you order food, Buster? What the hell? We’re supposed to be brainstorming,” Annie said. “No,” Buster said, “Suzanne brought them for us.” He stepped aside and Suzanne waved at Annie, embarrassed. “I just wanted to say that I was sorry to hear about your parents,” Suzanne said, referring, Buster assumed, to the news stories, especially online, that had begun popping up, “and so I thought I’d bring you guys some food. I didn’t mean to impose.” Buster looked at his sister, pleading, and Annie looked at Suzanne for the first time and her posture relaxed. “I’m sorry, Suzanne,” Annie said. “We’re still trying to deal with all this. Thank you for the food.”
“You’re welcome,” Suzanne said.
“So let’s eat,” Buster said, unwrapping the aluminum foil from the lasagna, but Annie pushed away from the table, pen and pad in her hands, and said, “I’m not hungry right now. I’ll leave you two alone and get to work on this in my room. Thank you again, Suzanne.”
“I really loved you in Date Due,” Suzanne offered to Annie’s retreating form, and Annie said, just before she shut the door to her room, “That’s nice.”
Now it was just Buster and Suzanne, the food on the table. “I really should go,” Suzanne said. Buster stared at her short, thick fingers, her dark red fingernails, dozens of rings, cheap trinkets, that ran all the way up to her knuckles. He knew that Annie was waiting for him in her bedroom, The Case of the Missing Fangs still unsolved, but he liked having Suzanne in the house, having a guest. “Have dinner with me,” he asked her. “I don’t want to eat alone.” She nodded and he retrieved plates and silverware, filled two glasses with ice and water. He filled his plate with food she had prepared and took careful bites, suddenly embarrassed about his missing tooth. “This is good,” Buster said, and Suzanne thanked him.
“I read your book,” Suzanne said.
“When?” Buster asked.
“The day after you came to talk to our group,” she answered. “I looked you up online and then I borrowed your book from Professor Kizza. I skipped class to read it in the park. It was so good.”
“Thank you,” Buster replied.
“It was so sad,” she said.
“I know. The more I wrote, the sadder it got.”
“But the end is hopeful,” she said. “Kind of.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes.
“I really didn’t know if I should come over here,” she said.
“Why?” Buster asked, having a decent idea of why, but wanting to hear her say it.
“I was pretty sure you were just hitting on me when you called me out of class.”
“Oh, god,” Buster said. “I’m sorry about how weird that was.”
“It’s okay. So, I read your book, and I read about you and your sister and your parents online, and I realized maybe you’re just . . . lonely. And I’m lonely. And I really want to be a writer, and I think you could help me get better. So I want to be friends.”
“Okay,” Buster said.
“I’m nervous,” Suzanne said. “I think I’m doing a good job of hiding it, but I don’t do stuff like this.”
“Well, I’m glad you came over.”
“I’m sorry about your parents.”
“Thank you,” Buster said.
“I better go,” she said.
“Thank you,” Buster said again.
Before she left, Suzanne removed a large stack