“Right,” Ursa said.
Ursa knocked on the cabin door. Lacey opened the door, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “You really don’t give up, do you?”
“He’s our friend and we’re worried about him,” Jo said.
“How long will he be your friend when you leave at the end of the summer?”
Jo was too shocked to respond. But she wished she had when Lacey added, “Do him a favor and forget him now instead of later.” Gabe’s sister closed the door.
She apparently believed Jo and Gabe were in a relationship. And she had already concluded that Jo was going to dump him. Jo doubted Gabe had given her those ideas, and that had to mean Lacey had far overstepped the bounds of her sibling bond. Jo had heard of controlling sisters—the kind who disliked the women their brothers dated—but this was outrageous. Lacey was trying to sabotage a relationship that hadn’t even begun.
Jo didn’t notice Ursa was still on the porch until she got to the car. “Ursa, let’s go.”
Ursa came to the upper edge of the porch stairs. “You said we wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“That’s just a saying.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“He doesn’t want to see us.”
“Maybe he does and they won’t let him,” Ursa said.
“I know, but there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“Yes, there is.”
“What?”
“She didn’t lock the door, and I know where his room is.”
“Oh my god! Ursa, get down here this instant!” Jo hissed.
“I don’t have to listen to you because I’m not from this planet. We have our own rules.” She scampered to the door.
“Ursa!”
Ursa pushed the inner door ajar and slid through the gap. Jo contemplated whether to follow and decided she couldn’t let a child deal with Lacey alone. She entered just in time to see Ursa disappear behind a log wall. Lacey was at the kitchen sink doing dishes, and Katherine sat at the table talking to her. Both had their backs to the front door, and their conversation, along with the running water, had prevented them from hearing Ursa walk in.
Jo crept across the living room, hunched over to keep a smaller profile. She slipped down the hallway and saw Ursa opening a door at the end of the corridor. “Knock first!” Jo whispered, but too late to stop her from entering unannounced.
Jo and Ursa stood in the doorway and surveyed Gabe. Dressed in gray pajama pants and a light-blue T-shirt, he was curled on his side in a log-frame bed with his back to them. Stacks of books were piled everywhere. The only decoration in the room was a star chart pinned to one of the walls.
“Gabe?” Ursa said. “Are you okay?”
He rolled onto his back, his puffy eyes bewildered. “Ursa?”
“Are you sick?” Ursa asked.
“Who told you that?”
“Your mean sister.”
He snorted a soft laugh and sat up, pushing strands of wavy hair off his face. His eyes focused into familiar blue sharpness when he looked at Jo. “She let you in?”
“Actually . . . no,” Jo said.
“My mother did?”
“It’s more of a search and rescue operation,” Jo said.
“You’re kidding?”
“I’m not.”
“They don’t know you’re here?”
Jo shook her head. “The alien made me do it.”
His grin was short-lived. “Jesus, I must look bad,” he said, running his hands over his beard and through his hair.
“You look good,” Ursa said. “You don’t look sick at all.”
“Yeah, well, there are different ways of being sick.” He dragged his legs over the edge of the bed, clearly unaccustomed to moving. His eyes settled on Jo’s. “What made you think I needed rescue?”
“They wouldn’t let us see you.”
“Why did you want to?”
“We need eggs.”
He smiled.
“You missed your egg morning out on the road. It’s caused a county-wide crisis.”
“Not a national emergency?”
“Your delusions are a bit far-reaching,” she said.
“Maybe they are.”
“Can I see the kittens?” Ursa asked.
He stood a little shakily. “Thou shall see the Shakespearean cats, my lady.”
“You don’t have to get up,” Jo said. “We only wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“I do have to get up. I have to see Lacey’s face when she gets you in her crosshairs.”
“I’m a little scared about that,” Jo said.
“I’ll run interference. But I warn you, she doesn’t take her cracked baby brother very seriously.”
“Cracked like an egg?” Ursa said.
“Hey, good analogy.” He slid his feet into old tan loafers. “Let’s go see those kittens.”
“Are their eyes open yet?” Ursa asked.
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen them for a few days.” He led the way down the hallway. When they arrived in the open space between the kitchen and living room, he waved at his sister and mother. “Don’t mind us,” he said, “just passing through.”
“Gabe!” Lacey said.
“What?”
“How did they get in?”
“Who?”
“Them!”
“Wait . . . you can see them? I thought they were my hallucination.”
Lacey strode over to Jo. “You had the nerve to sneak into our house?”
“I didn’t,” Jo said. “One hundred percent of the nerve came from another source.”
“And no one is going to yell at a little girl—right, Lace?” Gabe said.
“So you’re okay now? Just like that?” Lacey said. “Couldn’t you have done that before I drove over here to do your work?”
“I never told you to come.”
“Who the hell was supposed to take care of Mom?”
“Can we push the play button on this recording later? My friends don’t want to hear it. Let’s go,” he said to Jo and Ursa.
“Where are you going?” Lacey said.
“Ursa wants to see the kittens,” he said.
“Yeah, and what about that? I told you no more cats.”
“My cats are all spayed. The mother was a stray that showed up pregnant.”
“Well, I haven’t found them yet, but I’m thinking of taking them to the river.”
Gabe charged her with startling intimidation, and she backed away until her butt hit a kitchen chair. “You do anything to those kittens and they’ll find you in the river! I mean that, Lacey!”
“You’re friggin’ nuts!” Lacey said.
“I am, so don’t mess with me! And don’t say things like that in front of this little girl ever again!”
Lacey’s sour gaze fell on Ursa. “Who is she? Mom says you feed her every day.”
To keep Ursa from hearing more, Gabe lifted her into his arms and hastened to the door. “I’m sorry,” he said in Ursa’s ear. “Don’t worry about any of that.”
Jo pushed on his back in her urgency to get out. They scurried down the gravel drive on the west side of the house. Halfway to the barn, Gabe set Ursa on her feet. “My bad,” he said. “You’re too old to be carried.”
“It’s okay,” Ursa said.
Jo glanced over her shoulder to see if Lacey was following. She wasn’t, and the cabin had disappeared behind trees that surrounded it on all sides.
“I’m sorry you two had to see that,” Gabe said when they reached the barn. “My sister is . . . she and I have never gotten along. She was in college when I was born, and she’s always been more like my mean stepmother than my sister.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Jo said.
“Can I go see them?” Ursa said.
“Go on,” he said.
Ursa ran inside. Gabe and Jo followed her to the stacks of hay at the rear of the building. “The mother cat is surprisingly tame,” Gabe said, picking up the orange tabby that had come to greet him with her meows. He held her to his chest, and she rolled her head against his fingers as he scratched behind her ears.
“She obviously wasn’t born in the wild,” Jo said.
“I know. I think someone dumped her on my property when they saw she was pregnant. People around here know I keep barn cats.”
Jo stroked the cat in his arms.
“She gave birth to the first kitten next to my toolshed, but she let me move her to the barn. The kittens are safer from predators in here because I keep the door closed at night.”
“Predators like your sister?” Jo said.
“Yeah, worse than a rat snake, right?”
“Should we hide them better?” Ursa asked.
Gabe squatted in front of her. “I won’t let her hurt them.”
“But she said—”
“I think she’ll leave tomorrow. She hates farm chores.”
Ursa took Jo’s hand and led her to a nest of multicolored kittens tucked between two big bales of hay. “I’m betting there’s more than one father,” Jo said.
“She’s discovered your deepest, darkest secret,” Gabe whispered in the mother cat’s ear.
Jo smiled at his humor. He’d looked bad when they first saw him, but he’d livened remarkably in the last ten minutes. The alien kid apparently had better instincts than Jo.