In the passenger seat of Chad’s gray Nissan truck, Lina nervously clasped her hands in her lap as they approached her family’s silent house on Upland Road. Slowly pulling into the gravel driveway, Chad parked next to the burgundy Ford Taurus. It was early evening. Light bordered the drawn curtains of the living room, but the small square porch landing with its single bare bulb remained dark—having effectively become her stepmother’s domain. Lina and Chad watched expectantly as if waiting for some sign.
“This ain’t good,” Lina said.
“Why’d your daddy call, anyway?”
“Wouldn’t say, just needs me at the house. Papa never calls no more, not since Mama ran off.”
“Wasn’t good when my foster parents called either, but maybe this is different. Your daddy seems decent.”
“He used to be, but I’m pretty sure the weasel’s putting ‘im up to something.”
“If you want, Babe, I’ll come in with you.”
“Like you’d do me any good,” she scoffed.
“Why you have to push me away like that?” Chad asked, looking hurt. “I’m only trying to help.”
Lina groaned. What a baby. She took a deep breath and said, “Better get this over with. Not like I never been taken on a carpet before.”
“I wouldn’t mind taking you on the carpet.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Okay, but call me if you need me.” He placed a kiss on her shoulder.
Flinching as his lips pressed near the tender gunshot wound on her shoulder, she gathered her resolve and opened the door. Stepping onto the driveway, she paused and glanced back. Chad’s copper-toned complexion, from his Sauk-Suiattle roots, was full of a juvenile adoration that made her want to strangle him. I hate puppies. Instead, she gave him a weak smile and closed the truck door before striding with determination to the dark porch.
Reaching the front door, she gave two hesitant knocks and opened it.
-- : --
“Angel,” her father greeted. He sat near the end of the small frayed sofa in the living room and his smile brightened. “You look just like your mama.”
I hate it when Papa calls me Angel. He used to call Mama that when they was fighting. Lina leaned against the doorframe and stared at her elderly father. He wore a pressed white dress shirt, dark slacks, and a narrow black belt with a shiny silver buckle—a twentieth anniversary gift from the Hampton Lumber Mill. Her father loyally wore the same outfit Monday through Friday, even though it had been over two years since he had retired. His feet were shoeless and covered by black socks; a pale toe poked through a hole in the left stocking. The almost-proud outfit clung lifelessly to the 74-year-old man’s spare frame and emphasized his frail health. His smooth manicured office hands sat folded in his lap and a nervous smile waited on his pale lips.
He started going downhill the day that weasel scratched her way indoors. She already got her claws in Kolt. Once Papa’s gone, what am I supposed to do? Raising the brat’s a chore already. Ain’t no family left gonna care about me—no one except Luke. Closing the front door, she hovered with uncertainty. What am I afraid of? I ain’t a little girl no more. I’s twenty-three for God’s sake.
Perched on the padded arm of the sofa, Faye gripped her husband’s shoulder with one hand. Stepping away from the door, Lina’s gaze locked with Faye’s and she sensed her stepmother’s fury from the bluster in the older woman’s eyes. Her and Papa look like they been arguing. That’s a good sign.
“JD, why don’t you take your things to your room?” Cecil said to the three-year-old. “Kolt’s playing a game back there. See if he’ll let you join him. Tell him Papa says so.”
Tucked in the lazy chair like a mouse watching television, JD darted a glance at Lina and a knowing fear reflected in his eyes. Leaping up in a skittish flurry, he snatched up his comic book and Transformers action figure, then looked to his mother sheepishly and said, “Bye, Mama,” before racing off to the relative safety of the closet-sized bedroom that he shared with Kolt in the back of the house.
Oblivious to the drama about to unfold, the monotonous low drone of the television continued. Tension settled over the room and Lina smelled the approach of an emotional hailstorm as Faye’s eyes bore down on Cecil with expectation, until her stepmother could no longer contain herself.
“We want you out of our house!” Faye shouted.
Cecil jerked upright with a huff of surprise.
“Wait a minute, Faye,” he said soothingly, placing his hand on her thigh to placate her, “that’s not how we agreed to handle this.”
“We done decided.”
“We did… and we will. I mean—let’s hear Angel’s side before doing anything rash.”
Glowering at her husband, Faye snatched a pack of cigarettes and a disposable lighter off the side table. Removing the filter, she stuffed it back in the package and placed the cigarette between her lips. Lighting it, she leaned back and took the first draw before turning a cold gaze on Lina, like an impatient spectator waiting for the game to begin.
“Why don’t you sit down, Angel?” Cecil asked softly. Lina hesitantly took a seat in the lazy chair.
“What’s this about, Papa?” she asked, disgusted by the quiver in her voice.
“Seems Faye’s missing the silver earrings I gave ‘er.”
“The one’s you stole,” Faye said.
Cecil scowled at his wife without correcting her.
“Shit, why’d I want them? They’s so ugly it ain’t no wonder Papa gave ‘em to ya.”
“Angelina, watch your tongue,” Cecil warned.
“What’d you do with ‘em?” Faye demanded. “Probably pawned ‘em by now to buy more drugs.”
“I ain’t gonna take this!” Lina said, scooting forward and preparing to leave.
“Faye, please,” Cecil said.
“Deputy says you was wearing ‘em the night you and that piece a white trash robbed them people down-below. I bet you was high again.” Faye was unable to stop the torrent of her pent-up frustration from spilling over. “You ain’t no better than that mother of yours. Least Holly knew better’n to steal from her own family. If you was mine, I swear I’d see you disappeared just like the whore that spawned you!” Faye’s cheeks flushed.
“Jesus Christ!” Cecil exclaimed, half rising off the sofa before settling back. The room was shocked into silence by her father’s rare profanity. Reaching out and grabbing his wife’s knee, Cecil’s own displeasure broke free, “I’m tired of all this fighting in my own household! Angelina, explain yourself right this minute!”
Her father’s brusque tone brought tears to Lina’s eyes. “Why don’t you get onto her? She’s the—”
“Young lady, I’ll give you to the count of three. One…”
Staring at her father, Lina’s eyes widened. Why you giving in to that mangy weasel?
“Two…”
“I… I don’t know about no robbery,” Lina stammered. “Chad and me took JD and Kolt out and… and I dressed up is all. Maybe I borrowed the earrings, but that’s all. Wasn’t no trouble. Just ask JD.”
A look of vindication relaxed the lines in Cecil’s face. “I knew she wouldn’t do something like what the law said. It’s a mistake’s all.”
“Then how’d my earring get in back of that car?” Faye asked. “The white one with the window shot out.”
Cecil eased forward and the lines reappeared in his face as his eyes pleaded with Lina.
“I… I can’t say, Papa,” Lina whispered, unable to meet her father’s stare. She looked down at her hands, clasping them together to stop them from trembling. When Faye sat forward, Lina felt trapped.
“See that, Cece? Guilt’s written all over her face.”
Unable to find even a half-truth that wasn’t damning, Lina slumped forward and hid her face in her hands. Her silence remained undefended.
Collapsing into the sofa, Cecil leaned tiredly into Faye, who held him like a prized possession and turned a smug expression toward Lina. While Cecil’s eyes lost their focus and his face filled with pain, the quiet stretched on until Lina felt the torment eating at her stomach.
Rousing from his thoughts, with a new anxiety written across his features, Lina’s father asked wearily, “How many times do I have to clean up after your selfishness?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “You been like a feral child ever since Holly… left.”
Lina withdrew her hands and looked at her father in fear. Please, don’t make me beg in front of the weasel.
“Holly’s gone.” Faye pointed her skinny finger at Lina. “That tramp ain’t around no more to blame for leadin’ you astray. This is all your doing now, honey.”
“Angelina, this time you gone too far. I can’t allow you to wreck our family again, not like you and Holly nearly done before.” He struggled to keep his voice from breaking. “You’ll… you’ll have to find another place to live. We’ll keep JD so the boy’s schooling won’t be disrupted, least ‘til you get settled some place permanent.”
“But this is my house! I’m your daughter!” Lina said, leaping to her feet. Luke’s still working to get our home back… the cabin ain’t ready. Her mind spun into chaos. Things is happening too fast!
Stroking Cecil’s shoulder, Faye stared at Lina with a satisfied look.
“But I won’t put my daughter out to catch her death in winter,” Cecil said. Faye stiffened. “You can stay ‘til spring when the weather—”
“No! I’ll have none of that!” Faye exploded.
Cecil withered under Faye’s glare and his watery eyes reflected defeat. He looked down at his hands with their pronounced blue veins and brown spots.
“Mind you, this hellion ain’t making me look bad. I’m a good mother,” Faye said. “Just look at Kolter. I done right by him and I’ll do right by…” She flung her arm toward Lina. “… by that whelp. She can stay ‘til New Year’s, but not a day longer. Lord knows that’s more’n generous.”