CHAPTER SIX

Kaitlyn had finished geometry and was now working on To Kill a Mockingbird. After coming to the end of the same paragraph twice, she lay the book down. The sound of Conrad’s head smacking the hard floor kept returning, how he’d gone limp, the coppery smell of the blood oozing from the big cut on his scalp. Just before he’d fallen, she had hated him from the bottom of her heart. But after that, the whole thing seemed stupid.

The tiny flowers in the wallpaper seemed to be slowly swirling. Even Conrad’s friends said it was an accident. Mr. Brady told her about the meeting with Conrad’s mother and Uncle Jack, and that Uncle Jack hadn’t gotten angry. Probably because he didn’t care. Early on she used to wonder what she’d done wrong. But Aunt Zoë told her it was him, not her, that he’d become a different person after Aunt Zellie had died. Zoë told her the story of their meeting, of how Uncle Jack had recognized her from a dust jacket photo on the book she’d written. But what did it matter? In two weeks, she’d be back to her old life, her old school, and a new and better relationship with her stepmother.

Kaitlyn heard the bedroom door creak open. There stood Julia draped in a dark blue blanket. “Trust me,” Kaitlyn said. “You are not invisible.”

“You promised to read me a book. Aren’t you done yet?”

“No. And I’ll never finish with you interrupting me. Now go. Vamoose.”

“But you’re just laying on your bed.”

“Leave or I’m calling Aunt Zoë.”

The door clicked shut. Being here had been okay. Better than she’d expected. She’d felt happy most of the time, which was . . . sort of strange. At first she’d missed the freedom she’d had with Stella—she could watch television or listen to music all night if she wanted because Stella was either out with Donald or zombified in her own room with the door locked. Thank God Stella would be back to normal.

The door cracked open again. “Out,” Kaitlyn said. “Or I’ll boycott playing with you completely.” The door shut.

Stella getting sentenced to the rehab unit instead of prison had been the best thing that could have happened. She was getting help every day. They’d talked by phone a lot early on, Stella telling her how the death of Kaitlyn’s father had pushed her into six years of bad decisions, one of which had been Donald. “Your father’s love kept me in the right lane, honey. His love was like magic.”

Now Donald would be out of their lives for good. Stella had begged for forgiveness, saying she’d again be someone Kaitlyn could trust and depend upon. Kaitlyn had promised to stop being critical, to think before she talked. “But Mom, it’s scary finding used needles on the coffee table. That’s got to stop.”

“That’s done, sweetie. I’m just asking for your help.”

The last couple of weeks, though, Kaitlyn had begun feeling a little worried. Stella had seemed less interested in hearing how Kaitlyn was doing. She would ramble on about how she was getting tired of rehab. Those kumbaya moments during the first few weeks, when they’d cried together, were gone. Kaitlyn swallowed against an ache rising in her throat. Please make this work.

The door swung open widely. “It’s after seven o’clock, Kaitlyn,” Julia said, marching in without her invisibility cloak. “You said you’d be done.” Kaitlyn watched Julia climb up on the desk chair and open her social studies book. “I’m almost five. I wish I had homework.”

“I wish you did too,” Kaitlyn said. “Please leave the book alone.”

“Are you smart?”

“I’m a genius.”

“My mommy was smart. She wrote a book.”

“I know. I’m going to read it someday.”

“Me too,” Julia said. “Is it fun being a teenager?”

“It’s about as much fun as having an interstellar dingbat run you through with a lightsaber.”

“What’s that like?”

“It burns and tickles at the same time.”

“I want to be a genius too.”

“Is that a fact? How much is two plus two?”

“Four,” Julia said. “That’s too easy.”

“How much is two hundred plus two hundred?”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

Aunt Zoë appeared in the doorway, her eyeglasses dangling from a cord. “Julia, did Kaitlyn say it was okay to be here?”

“I’m done for now,” Kaitlyn said. “She’s okay.”

“Kaitlyn’s giving me questions, Aunt Zoë. She asked me how much two hundred plus two hundred is. That’s too big.”

“Don’t they teach you anything in preschool?” Kaitlyn said. “How many apples are two apples plus two apples?”

“Four apples!”

“So, how many hundreds are two hundreds plus two hundreds?”

Julia squirmed and asked her to repeat the question. Kaitlyn did.

“Uh . . . four hundreds?” Julia said.

“Not bad,” said Kaitlyn. “But here’s the big test. Are you ready?”

Julia nodded, eyes gleaming.

“How much is two thousand plus two thousand?”

“Mmmm . . . four thousand?”

Zoë laughed.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” Kaitlyn said. “How much is two million plus two million?”

“Four million!”

“Dang, girl,” said Kaitlyn. “Aunt Zoë, are you listening to this?”

“I am.”

“I want to be smart too,” said the little girl.

“Did you want to read to her, Kate?” Zoë asked.

“Sure.”

“When’s Daddy coming home?” said Julia.

“He’ll be here when he gets here. Stop pestering and go get a book for Kaitlyn to read. What would you like tonight?”

“The Twits!” Julia said, hopping off the chair. “I love The Twits.”

“Takes one to know one,” Kaitlyn said.

“You’re a twit,” said Julia. “I’m not a twit.”

“True. You’re a pest not a twit.”

Julia laughed and ran to her room.

“What a scalawag,” Zoë said. “You’ve got a lot of patience with her.”

“Not always.”

“She really adores you. She’s going to be heartbroken when you leave.”

“Are you saying that to make me feel better?”

“I don’t know what I’m saying,” Zoë said, folding her arms over her chest. “Have you talked to your stepmother tonight?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you going to tell her about what happened in school today?”

“I guess I should, right? I still feel so bad about Conrad.”

Zoë sighed. “Things happen. It wasn’t your fault. Talking might help.”

“Maybe,” Kaitlyn said. Aunt Zoë had been great these past couple of months. She really seemed to get it. “Aunt Zoë, do you ever wish you had kids?”

“Sometimes. But God didn’t put that on my agenda. Anyways, my whole career was taking care of animals, so that substituted to some extent, I suppose.”

As the sister of Aunt Zellie’s mother, Zoë was Kaitlyn’s great-aunt. Before taking an early retirement to come stay with Uncle Jack and Julia, she’d been a veterinarian’s assistant in California. She was divorced and had shared a secret with Kaitlyn one time. Her ex-husband had come out of the closet after they’d been married for fifteen years. He was gay, but they were still friends.

“You’d have made a great mother,” Kaitlyn said.

Zoë put her glasses on. “I’d probably have been a tyrant.”

Julia returned with the book. “Can I sit with you on your bed?” she said.

“If you promise not to fart.”

“Ewww! I knew you were going to say that!”

With Julia finally tucked in bed, Kaitlyn called Stella’s unit at the rehab center. The ward clerk answered.

“Could you get me Stella Andersen, please?” she said. “It’s her stepdaughter.”

“I recognize your voice, honey. You don’t always have to tell me who you are. Let me go find her.”

The phone went quiet. It was a refurbished iPhone that Aunt Zoë had gotten her when she’d first arrived in the summer. Stella had broken her old phone during an argument on the Fourth of July, the same day Stella wrecked the car, which was what finally led to rehab. Minutes passed. The hallway carpet was cool against her feet. Uncle Jack’s bedroom door was open and light was seeping out. He still hadn’t gotten home yet. She’d never seen inside his room. She looked at the phone. Why was it taking so long? Zoë was in the living room, reading. She stepped inside. The light was coming from Uncle Jack’s closet.

The room didn’t smell like the rest of the house. It was leathery. Almost musty. The curtains were closed and the bed was made. The only thing on the dresser was a wedding photo of him and Aunt Zellie. He always made his own bed, Zoë said, because he didn’t want her to feel like a housekeeper. Zoë thought this was pigheaded because she didn’t mind doing housework herself, but Uncle Jack was strange about some things. A wounded bird ever since Zellie died. “If he acts cold,” she’d said, “it’s not you. He’s like that with a lot of people.”

He was the dean of the medical school, but she didn’t really know what kind of things he did. The very first time she’d met him was the day he and Zellie had gotten married, when her father was still alive. She’d been ten. She, Stella, and her father had driven to New Canterbury for the wedding. It was later that summer that her father was killed in the fire. Uncle Jack had seemed such a happy person. Everyone was happy that day, even Stella.

The light was coming from his closet. The door was wide open. She looked inside. On the right were men’s shirts and pants and jackets. The opposite side, to her surprise, was hung with dresses, blouses, skirts, and sweaters. Zellie had been gone for three years and Uncle Jack still hadn’t cleared away her things. She stepped in. It smelled of wood. Touching a black dress, she rubbed the fabric between her fingers. Flower-petal soft. She touched it to her cheek. It smelled faintly of flowers too. Oh my God, she thought, letting it go. How can he stand it? It was hard enough for her to look at her father’s old baseball glove, which she kept hidden under her mattress after Stella had mentioned selling it.

The sudden sound of a voice startled her. The phone. She’d forgotten about it. She backed out of the closet.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” said the clerk.

Kaitlyn padded back into the hallway. “That’s okay. Is anything wrong?”

“Listen, honey. We can’t seem to locate Stella right now. I’d be happy to give her a message.”

Somewhere toward the front of the house an outside door slammed shut. Uncle Jack was home. “You can’t find her? What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“Not to worry. She had a day pass today and it looks like she may not be back yet. It’s about that time though.”

“I didn’t know she got passes.”

“I was surprised too. But her doctor okayed it. Let me look. Yep. Today was her second. I’ll have her call you when she gets in.”

Zoë was sitting in her favorite chair, a recliner, a shawl over her legs.

“Is Uncle Jack home?” Kaitlyn asked. “I heard the door.”

“No, that was Tony. He said to tell you to come over if you want to play some darts with him and Chad. Did you talk with her yet?”

“I tried but she wasn’t available. I think I’ll go play darts.”

“Not available?” Zoë asked.

“She was out on some kind of pass.”

Zoë’s eyebrows arched. She set the Kindle on her lap. “Talk to me for a minute,” she said.

“Later, okay?” Kaitlyn grabbed her heavy blue fleece jacket and slipped on her old running shoes. She went out. It was a bright, crisp night with a lot of stars and a three-quarter moon above the mountain behind the barn. Her breath vapor hung in the air. As she rounded the house heading for the barn, she could see way down into the valley in front of the house to where the lights of New Canterbury twinkled. Must be pretty here when it snows. But she’d be gone by then.

Tony was Uncle Jack’s younger brother. He was about forty and lived in the barn. When she had first described him to Aishia, Kaitlyn had strung her along, saying that Uncle Jack made Tony, who had a type of autism, live in the barn. Aishia was shocked until Kaitlyn added that Jack had turned the barn’s second floor into an apartment, and it was great.

She found Tony and his friend Chad, who had a less severe type of autism, on the far end of the barn’s ground floor past the green tractor. The area was lit by two rows of hanging LED shop lights and was bright. Tony and Chad were wearing matching green sweatshirts with the name of their computer business on the front: NetNuts.

Kaitlyn had introduced them to darts, and now Tony and Chad played all the time. Tony, maybe because of his special archery talent, was improving fast. The dartboard hanging there was the only thing she’d brought from Dayton other than her clothes. Her father had taught her to play when she was Julia’s age.

“Hey guys.”

She’d gotten used to Tony’s condition. He just couldn’t show much in the way of feelings and tended to hyperfixate on things. He didn’t drive, and he didn’t like to make eye contact. Old photos showed him with a bushy beard, holding a bow at a statewide archery competition. He had many archery trophies in his apartment and still practiced in the backyard. His dark brown beard was well trimmed now.

Chad was younger than Tony and had short blond hair. Chad waved her over. “Hey, Katie,” he said. “You better watch out. We’re warmed up. Hold out your hand and I’ll get you started.”

She held it out, palm up. Concentrating, Chad placed three darts side by side, lining them up with the vanes in the same orientation. She hid a smile. Chad’s quirks were less noticeable than Tony’s, but he had the same tendency to obsess over small details. Chad had a car, though he still lived with his mother. Both men were super smart, especially when it came to computers. Their joint business venture involved fixing them, salvaging components, setting up networks, and even building fast systems for gamers.

“You want to play 301 or 501?” asked Chad.

“301,” she said. Chad turned and coughed into his elbow, to which she responded, “You’ve got a cold.”

“Not much.” He coughed again. It was coarse and didn’t sound good.

She raised the dart, squinted, and threw a triple twenty. Chad and Tony cheered. She prepared to throw again, but her phone began chirping. Kaitlyn answered it.

“Hey, sweetie,” Stella said. “Didn’t know you were going to call, or I’d have left a message with Ida. But I’m supposed to be getting my own phone back in a few days, hallelujah. Ring the bells.” Stella had a fit of giggling.

Kaitlyn felt a shiver of alarm. The phone tight against her ear, she strode to the other side of the barn, heart pounding. “Where were you?”

“Out on a little pass, Kaitlyn. No problem. Got one last night too.”

“How did you get a pass?”

“By following the rules. Hey, don’t pee on my parade. I can’t tell you how good it felt to be out. I’m way ready to get my life back. Just two more weeks. Not even.”

“You sound stoned. Are you stoned?”

“I wouldn’t call it stoned. Half-baked, maybe.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Listen to me, young lady. I don’t appreciate that tone.”

“I can’t believe this, Stella.”

“Whoa. Stop right there. Let’s get something straight, young lady. You will call me Mom or Mama, like always, and you will show me the respect I deserve. That’s that. How am I going to build up my own self-respect? That’s a lesson I’ve learned. How many times have we talked about this?”

“The point is, Mom, where did you go?” She paused as a tremor passed through her like a mini earthquake. “Where did you go?”

“Don’t be such a brat, Kaitlyn. I’ve been in this place for almost three months, all right? I’ve learned a lot about myself. I’m creating a toolbelt of good habits, which you will soon see. But a little weed now and then isn’t going to hurt anybody, and it’s everywhere here. I’m not alone. It’s like drinking a beer.”

“That’s not what you said this summer.”

“You sound so self-righteous. When I get out and we’re a family again, everything is going to be just like we talked about. You’ll be proud of me. You’re not going to lose me like you lost your father.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not saying anything about it being your fault, Kaitlyn, so simmer down. Please.”

“All right, but where did you go?”

Stella sighed. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

“And I never want to.”

“You’re a strong person, Kaitlyn. I love you and I miss you so much. And I need you just like I needed your father.”

Kaitlyn drew a deep shuddering breath and let it out slowly. “I know,” she said. “It’s been hard for me too. Just tell me where you went.”

“I had some pizza and wings and then I took a walk by the river. Hey, I saw a couple of shooting stars! Two of them. Maybe your mom is in for some good luck finally.”

“Were you alone?”

“I thought you called because you wanted to talk.”

“Just answer.”

“Here we go,” Stella said. “Albert Einstein. You know everything about everything.”

“Was it Donald?”

“Listen, while you’ve been living in that big house with your doctor uncle, I’ve been alone. Certain people understand me, and Donald Citrian, for all his faults, is one of them. Yes, Donald took me to dinner. Yes, back in the summer I said that we were over. But I have a perfect right to change my mind.”

“What does your therapist think?”

“That I need to make my own life decisions. I need your understanding.”

“Is he coming back to live with us?”

Stella blew her nose. Kaitlyn reflexively moved the phone away.

“You know that he would never do anything to harm you. He always treated you like a daughter.”

“It’s not Donald or I that I’m worried about—it’s you.”

“I’ve got so many new life tools hanging from my belt now. I’m going to start working again. You should have seen those shooting stars, my God.”

Kaitlyn looked over at Tony and Chad. Chad threw a dart and made a little jump as it hit the cork.

“Are you still there?” Stella said.

“Yes.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“I’m playing darts with Uncle Tony and Chad.”

“I personally would not feel comfortable around a nutjob like Tony with a dart in his hand. Who’s Chad? Did you find a boyfriend?”

“I’ve told you about him. He’s Uncle Tony’s friend and business partner. Chad Chadwick.”

“His parents ought to be whipped for giving him a name like that. Jesus.”

“He’s very nice.”

“I bet you miss your friends back here a ton. Won’t be long now.”

“I didn’t have that many.”

“What about Jody? You guys used to be joined at the hip.”

“You forget that her parents pulled her out last year after that kid John Schultz overdosed in the bathroom.”

“Oh, yeah. I remember that. Where was it her parents sent her?”

“St. Theresa’s Academy.”

“You still friends?”

“Sort of. I called her last week but all she talked about was some boy whose parents have a condo in Orlando.”

“That’s what you need. A boyfriend with a condo in Florida. I’ll chaperone.”

“It’s not funny. Listen, something happened at school today. I got into a fight.”

“Sweetie, I’m afraid it’s going to have to wait till the next time we talk. I need to go and do a routine pee test. Fortunately, I’ve got a supply on hand.”

“Please don’t tell me that.”

“Do you miss me?”

Kaitlyn’s chest muscles were quivering. “I can’t believe you’re going to let Donald back in the house. I can’t believe it. Shouldn’t I have a say?”

“I have to go. Let me hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“How about I love you, Mom? And I know how much you love and need me?”

“I love you,” Kaitlyn said, flatly.

Stella didn’t respond for a few beats, then she said, “Take care of yourself, Kaitlyn,” her voice going crisp and hard. “I’ll see you in two weeks. And stay away from hamsters.”

The line went dead.

Kaitlyn began to tremble. Hamsters. A powerful ache swelled in her throat. She was reminding Kaitlyn of how her father had died. She thought back to that terrible night, how the fire alarm had woken her, her father leading her outside, how Kaitlyn had remembered her hamster back in its cage, how her father had dashed back in, thinking he still had time.