In the middle of Des Plaines Illinois three boys find themselves in a tangled knot of angsty lust and amateur love.
Evan Webster has an average American life. When he isn't at swim practice or the movie theater, he's trying to make time to study bi...
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"Uncle Danny," Clem chimed, leaning against the doorframe. "Do you need help cleaning Uncle Evan's room?"
Nadine and Bones had left Evan's bedroom untouched when he left for college, but it became cluttered when he got sick. Mr. Webster was still living at the house when his son moved back in, watching his quick decline. After Evan died, Mr. Webster gave the house to Nadine and Bones, insisting they raise Clem as a family. Danny was a frequent visitor, but he'd been avoiding the familiar room until now. He wanted to be the one to clean out Evan's bedroom, mainly because he needed closure. It was unreal—how a person could make such a bold mark on the world and then disappear without a trace.
"We've talked about this, Clem," Danny replied, reaching for a shoebox. "I'm not your uncle."
"You're an auntie?"
Danny whirled, stammering. "No, I'm not a—Do I look like an auntie?"
The little girl shrugged. "Your hair is long."
"That doesn't mean—" He stopped himself, sighing. "We'll revisit this conversation when you're older."
He stared into the closet, getting choked by grief. Every object had some sort of memory attached to it.
"You should ask mommy to give you a haircut." The five-year-old girl wasn't going to leave Danny alone.
He shuffled some more boxes around, saying, "Yeah." His hair was the last thing on his mind.
"You kind'a look like a water buffalo."
Danny shot her an annoyed glance. "I thought your mom wasn't letting you watch the nature channel anymore?"
"She's not," she replied, hanging on the doorknob out of boredom. "Mrs. Hagley lets me. But she covers my eyes whenever the lions—"
"Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to help me?"
Clem perked up, smiling as she trotted into the room. "I'm really good at folding clothes," she boasted. She tucked some hair behind her ears as if she were preparing for hard work. "Daddy lets me fold his socks every Saturday."
Danny hummed, trying to look for something that would keep her occupied. "I already cleared out all his clothes. But," he said, reaching behind her to grab something off the dresser. He shook Evan's old piggybank and it jangled with coins. "Dump all these out and count 'em. You can keep it all."
Clem happily took the ceramic pig and hopped onto the bed. "What's this?" she asked, sitting next to a beat-up license plate.
"That," Danny said. "Was something very, very special to your Uncle Evan. I have to give it to your mommy."
