"Iced tea's fine," I say. "Thank you, ma'am."
"Call me Greta. I'm not a ma'am. Well, I am fifty this past year, but please don't remind me." She smiles widely. "I'm sorry, Jake, but half the town already knows that you found this girl in the woods today. Everyone's talking about it."
"It's the EMTs," Jake says, frowning.
"And the nurse and the staff at the hospital and the police department." Greta shakes her head. "It's a small town," she says, looking at me. "Everyone talks."
"I see," I say. "Well, I'm sorry if I put anybody out. I'm not..."
"Oh, I didn't need to stay at the parade for the firework show."
"It's all right, Mom, you can go. I can stay here with Faith."
His mom takes the glass of iced tea from her son. Jake hands me mine as well. We take a sip, standing in the kitchen awkwardly. Jake mentions how Greta wanted to hang out with her friends today at the Fourth of July parade.
"Honestly," I say, "you should go back and have fun with your friends. I'm probably going to fall asleep early. I'm just so grateful that I don't have to stay at a shelter tonight. This is so much more cozy. It's honestly the nicest place I've ever been in my life."
Greta's face crumbles. "Oh, sweetheart. This place? It's just simple. Nothing fancy."
My eyes widen as I take in her kitchen. She has stainless steel appliances and a cookie jar. She's got a fancy mixer on the counter and dish towels that are clean. The floor is swept, just like my grandma taught me to do.
"Now, let me show you your room," Greta says. "Come on. And Jake, why don't you take some hamburger patties out of the freezer? At least you guys can cook out tonight."
I walk down the hall, seeing framed photos of Jake and his mom through the years. Jake clearly loved the outdoors even from a young age. There's photos of him in front of mountaintops and holding fishing rods, with dirty cheeks, stomping in mud puddles.
"Your son's always loved being outside?"
"Oh, I could never keep him indoors. Joining the military is the best thing that ever happened to him. He was so restless. He needed to see the world. He needed to go out and stretch his wings." We pause then at a photo of Jake in uniform.
"He's in the Army?" I ask.
Greta looks over at me, clearly very proud of her son. "Yes, he is. He's home on leave right now. He just got back two days ago."
"Oh," I say. "I didn't realize. And here I am taking him away from you. I'm sorry, honestly."
"Oh, you didn't take him away from me," Greta says, pressing a hand to my shoulder. "You met him when he was out in the woods running away. That boy," Greta clucks her tongue and looks away, "he has been through a lot the last few years. Being back here where everyone's life seems so picture-perfect and pristine, I think it's hard on him. He's a changed man after being in Iraq."
I swallow. "Oh wow," I say. "You must be so proud."
"I am," she says. "I've always been a single mom and Jake here, he was my only child. He's been my whole wide world. And having him go off to war? Well, it was terrifying, of course, as it would be for any mother. But Jake has always known how to follow his heart."
I smile, admiring her son in the photograph. He looks so determined, so absolute. It's a sort of strength in a man I've never known before.
"Well, come here. Let me show you the room."
"It's beautiful," I say when we step inside. There's a quilt over the double bed, an oak dresser in the corner, and a lamp on the bedside table.
"There are shelves of books in the living room if you want something to read. Maybe Jake'll play cards or something with you tonight. I know he's pretty keen on keeping an eye on you after, well, after everything you've been through."
"He told you about my dad then?"
Greta nods. "He did, not in a gossipy way like the rest of this town, but in a looking out for you sort of way. He'll sleep on the couch tonight, so don't you worry. I'm not going to be late, though I can't promise I won't be tipsy. The ladies and I like our white wine, so a night like this when everyone's going to be at the parade in town..." She smiles.
"Well, I hope you have a great time with your friends," I say, meaning it as we walk back out of the bedroom.
"Oh." Greta raises her hand in memory. "One sec. Let me grab you some a changes of clothes. We're not exactly the same size, but I think they’ll do. Besides, they must've hardly had anything to offer you down at the hospital."