Because we had guests, I made dinner milder than usual. So many kids weren’t used to eating anything but chicken nuggets, and Marcus did pick out and eat some chicken and potatoes, but most of his dinner was the cheese toast I served on the side. Zee, I got the impression, would have eaten anything I put in front of her, to be polite. The only way to tell she didn’t care for it was that she turned down seconds.

Gentry of course didn’t. As he was coming back to the table with his and Trang’s bowls, Elana whispered to him, “You said her hair was pretty.”

Gentry hesitated, setting the bowls down before he answered her: “’Tis.”

“’Tis not.”

“Elana. We do not talk about our guests.” I gave her a warning look, but the little sass box ignored me.

“’Tis not,” she said.

Gentry sat down and picked up his spoon. Then he put it back down.

“Sister, thou shalt make me wroth if thou art uncourteous to Lady Zhorzha,” he said.

“It’s okay,” Zee said.

“He said your hair was red, but it’s orange,” Elana said.

“It’s from eating too many carrots.” Zee reached over and took a chunk of carrot out of Elana’s bowl and ate it. That made Elana giggle. Gentry smiled, and then Elana couldn’t decide whether she liked Zee or was jealous.

We usually watched a little TV before Elana’s bedtime, but there was an immediate problem when Zee sat on the couch next to Marcus, and Gentry sat on the floor in front of her. I could tell the whole day was wearing on him, because as soon as he sat down, he started stimming. One hand at first, scratching his neck. Then after a few minutes, both hands scratching his shoulders, so that his arms were pressed up near his ears with his elbows pointed up.

“Does your back itch?” Zee said. “I can scratch it for you. If you want.”

I thought it would go nowhere. Sometimes he went so far away when he was stimming that it was hard to get him back. After a few minutes, though, he nodded and scooted back far enough that he could have leaned against her legs.

Zee started scratching his shoulders, just below the seams of his T-shirt. I couldn’t see the look on his face, but Bill and Trang were both looking at him. They glanced at each other, then at me. I gave a very small shrug, because I didn’t want Zee to notice that we were all watching and waiting to see what would happen.

“That’s not fair! Why does she get to scratch your back?” Elana said, and that put an end to that. Zee jerked her hands back, and Gentry jumped up.

“Child, it must be your bedtime,” I said. “Why don’t you boys go to bed, too?”

Elana put up some crying and fussing, but I finally got her down to sleep. Coming back past Trang and Gentry’s room, the light was off, but I could hear them talking. Swords and armor? Or love and ladies? It was always one or the other with them.

Bill had turned over to the news, and that’s what we were watching when Zee came back from putting Marcus to bed. She sat down to watch with us, but it was only a few minutes before the news cycle came back around to the situation at the prison. Bill reached for the remote.

“No, it’s okay,” Zee said. “I feel a little better seeing her. It lets me think she’s maybe okay.”

“I’m sure she is,” I said. “You both seem like strong girls.”

We watched, but there was nothing new to the story. Manhunt continues, that was the sum total of it.

“Would you like a little wine? I thought I might have a glass before bed,” I offered.

That was how I lured her into the dining room, with a glass of that cheap sparkling peach wine I liked. She didn’t seem like a girl with expensive taste, either.

“So, tell me about yourself. I think you can guess getting information from Gentry isn’t all that reliable, since he didn’t tell you about Miranda.”

Zee took a sip of her wine, and then a swallow. She had nice fingernails. Not painted, but clean, neat ovals. Good nails for scratching.

“Well, you know. My sister is Wiccan, like they said on the news. She’s part of a volunteer ministry at the prison.” She was embarrassed, which I hadn’t intended. I reached over to put my hand on hers, and she let me.

“What about you, honey? I know you’re working as a waitress. It’s the only reason Gentry would ever eat at a restaurant. Are you in school?”

“No. My sister’s taking some classes to finish her degree, but I never—I’m not good at that kind of thing.”

“Not everybody is. So, you had a motorcycle wreck? That’s how you and Gentry met?” I tried. I appreciated that she was more comfortable talking about her sister, but I felt like I deserved to know more about her, considering I’d waited two years to meet her.

“Ma’am, I—I feel like I owe you an explanation about me and Gentry. I don’t really—we’re not dating or anything. I don’t know what he’s told you and I don’t want to be rude but—”

I had to get ahold of both her hands and squeeze them before she quit trying to explain. I did my best, but couldn’t stop myself from laughing.

“Oh, honey. It’s okay. I know you and Gentry aren’t dating. I’m not sure he—I’m not sure how that would go,” I said.

“It was awkward.” Zee gave me an embarrassed smile.

Then it was my turn to be surprised, because I didn’t know there’d been dating. I’d laughed at the very idea. I let go of her hands so that we could have a drink of our wine.

“A few times, I tried to convince him to take you flowers, but he didn’t think it would be appropriate, because you might think he was pursuing you.”

“Except after we broke up or whatever happened, after I met his other family, he kept coming by my house, and where I work,” she said. I felt bad for both of them, because obviously she was confused.

“He hasn’t told you why?” I said.

She shook her head, so I took the plunge I’d taken with a few other girls: I explained about his autism, which she seemed to have figured out on her own. Then I told her about the voices he’d been hearing since he was a boy. Gawen, who was like an overgrown playmate, but a bit of a bully. Hildegard, who was pious but awfully judgmental.

“And the Witch, who is sort of Gentry’s spiritual adviser,” I said.

“Really? A witch?”

Zee laughed, which was new to me. Most people didn’t find any of it funny. She wasn’t the first girl I’d explained Gentry’s voices to. I wasn’t proud of myself, but with a few girls, I used the explanation to get rid of them. Girls who seemed needy or inclined to take advantage of his good nature.