Neither of them could meet my eyes.
Kevin continued, and I could picture all of it. Thursday evening, the twins announced they were going to meet classmates for a study group. Kevin gave them a ten-minute head start, grabbed his keys, and followed the bus from three cars back.
He parked across the street from the car wash, under a flickering sign that advertised hand wax for $12.99. And there they were, my sons, pulling on boots that were too big for them.
“Ethan was doing windows,” Kevin said quietly. “Noah was on the wheels. They didn’t stop for almost two hours. They barely talked. They just worked.”
“I didn’t understand it,” he added, turning to me. “They have everything they need at home. I thought someone might be pressuring them, or that they were in some kind of trouble. So I went back the next afternoon.”
“And the next,” Noah muttered.
