Dillon turned a blank face in her direction. “What’s up with her?”
The old woman shrugged. “She’s got a mood on, I guess,” she said a little wearily. “Ain’t said a word since she came back.”
Dillon breathed gently with relief. “Maybe she’s upset that Roxy’s gone away,” he suggested, sitting down at the table.
The old man hobbled from the stove and sat down too. Ma Chester shook her head. She brought over a dish of food from the oven and put it down in front of Dillon.
“I ain’t told her about Roxy,” she said. “She might get excited.”
Dillon helped himself and shoved the dish over to the old man. “She’s gotta know some time,” he said.
“Ain’t Joe come yet?” the old man piped suddenly, not stopping his eating.
Dillon glanced up quickly. He didn’t say anything.
“I reckon Joe’s sick,” Ma Chester said uneasily.
Dillon ate in silence. He felt they would be glad to see him go to his room. After the meal was finished he got up and went outside. He sat on the stoop. The evening was very warm, and fluffy white clouds still drifted in the darkening sky.