Night.
Mom got called in to work a late waitress shift. We’d already had a long day, but Saturday night was the best for tips so no way could she turn down a chance to work the dining room. It meant $100 minimum, Mom said, cash in hand, way more than she ever got just cleaning the rooms.
I made us some macaroni and cheese – the real kind, not the mix stuff from a box – while Mom took a quick shower, put her hair up in a bun, rubbed out a couple stains on the housekeeping dress that she hadn’t washed yet.
While she was wolfing down her food, she tried calling Kyle. She turned away from me while she left her message, like not seeing her face meant I couldn’t hear what she said.
‘Hey, hon, it’s me.’
How could she get her voice to go so high-pitched and girly?
‘I just wanted you to know that I won’t be in tonight, so I’ll see you when I see you, OK?’
When she put her phone into her purse she looked at me and shrugged, as if to say, ‘A girl has to do what a girl has to do.’ Then she gave me a kiss and bounced out the door, humming to herself, like someone who was happy, like someone who didn’t have a care in the world.
The sound brought back the feeling I’d had in the morning, driving to Duluth. Whatever happened between Mom and me, we’d work things out – just the two of us. The men that kept getting in the way – the Kyles – weren’t important. They were just a silly phase that she’d grow out of one day.
I fell asleep watching TV and woke up about midnight. I went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. The new lipstick we’d bought at the Duluth Walmart was still in the bag, stashed in the vanity drawer. I don’t know why I thought this would be a good time to try it on. Maybe it was because I was alone – there wouldn’t be any witnesses.
The lipstick looked odd at first – too bright, unnaturally frosty like bubblegum ice cream that had silver glitter sprinkled on top. It made me laugh, and that gave me another idea. I’d rummage around Mom’s make-up and try on some other stuff, just for fun. So on it went, the thick foundation – a shade too dark, just the way Mom wore it – the lilac eyeshadow, the jet-black eyeliner, the thick, gloopy mascara.
It was funny. Mom was always trying to get me to wear this stuff. She was constantly telling me to ‘accent my femininity’ by wearing skirts and tighter tops to show off my ‘assets’, but I always resisted. Now, looking in the mirror, I knew why. Make-up didn’t make me look feminine, it made me look like a freak. I didn’t look like a grown-up woman. I looked like a male cartoon character – Bugs Bunny or Eric Cartman – dressed up in girls’ clothes to trick somebody.
I was about to rub it all off with face cream when the kitchen door slammed. I heard footsteps and weird noises – metal clangs that sounded like pots and pans banging, glasses tinkling, drawers being pulled out and utensils clattering onto the floor. I knew straight away that it wasn’t Mom, but who’d break into our trailer and steal our cooking stuff?
‘Yo!’ Kyle’s voice. ‘Anybody home?’
I locked the door and turned off the tap.
‘Hey.’ Too late. Footsteps came down the hall. ‘You in there, honey?’
‘It’s me, Etta. Mom’s at work.’
He must have known that. I’d heard her make the call.
I waited for an answer. ‘Kyle?’
I heard men’s voices in the kitchen and stuff being moved around.
‘Kyle? Is that you?’
Nothing. Just breathing, shuffling. What the hell was he doing? It had to be Kyle, but why didn’t he answer?
I stepped away from the door. The room started to wobble so I steadied myself with the edge of the bathtub until I could sit down on the toilet. I put my head between my legs and took deep breaths. Good. That was better. I’d just have to stay here till Mom got home. She could deal with this, she’d know what to do.
Then I thought, no, Mom would think it was crazy to be so scared. She’d never hide out in the bathroom just because of some guy. She’d laugh at me for being such a wuss.
I stood up and listened again – just that low murmuring from the kitchen. I took in another deep breath, tried to relax. Maybe Kyle was already gone, or maybe he was waiting politely for me to come out, like any normal person would do. Maybe he’d have a reasonable explanation for what he was up to, like any normal person. This was only Kyle. It wasn’t the big bad wolf, it wasn’t a zombie, it wasn’t that guy in The Shining, ready to kill me with an axe.
Just my mom’s boyfriend.
I opened the door.
Kyle was waiting, flashing his teeth. Here’s Johnny.