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He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the stone. He rubbed it fiercely.
Ian stared even deeper into his eyes and mewed.
“It needs a bath. Can you give cats baths?” she asked.
He wanted to grab it and twist its neck. Couldn’t she see that this animal was evil?
He had nurtured Ian as he did his sister, feeding it the evening he had bought the groceries. Buying his sister the kind of gum that was supposed to make her not want to smoke her cigarettes.
“I asked you a question. Can you give cats baths?”
He laced his fingers behind his head in order not to strike out. To hurt the cat. To hurt Allie. To really hurt her.
“Why aren’t you answering me?”
“Yeah, if you want your eyes scratched out,” he said, his voice gravelly.
She screwed up her face and started stirring the food again. Then she looked thoughtful. “Why do you have books on Ted Bundy in your room? Don’t they scare you?”
He silently watched as a black widow spider hurried across a cabinet.
“And those magazines with the naked chicks. The pornos. It’s gross that you have so many of them. But you know what freaks me out even more? How you rip them up. Why do you do that?”
Lightning flashed behind his eyes. He leaned into the counter.
Allie looked startled for a moment. “You okay?”
He did his best to pull air into his lungs. He looked up and saw she was angry.
“What’s wrong with you?” she snarled at him. “I wanted to make up with you tonight! Quit being such a fucking freak, so we can get along for once,” she snapped.
The air came in trickles, but he needed more. The room started to spin and he clutched the counter more tightly.
“You walk in here looking like you’re some crazy person,” she said. She pointed at his shirt. “And what’s that all over you? For all I know it could be someone’s blood.”
It is someone’s blood, he thought. I made a horrible mistake.
“I try to look past it all, to be friends with you, because I know you need one, but you won’t even fucking talk to me!” she spat, tears in her eyes. “You’re more interested in your piece of shit cat than you are me!”
She lunged for Ian and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. Then she pulled open the screen door and flung him into the darkness.
He was gone by the time she turned back around.
Chapter 62
THE NEXT MORNING, Haley spent an hour at Mrs. Perron’s. The two talked out on the porch while contractors worked inside, installing an addition to their living room. Haley wondered why the Perrons would add onto the house now that only two people lived there, and figured it was just part of Mrs. Perron trying to keep busy.
Unlike her own mother who coped by doping herself with sleeping pills, Mrs. Perron survived by cleaning and keeping busy. She’d installed new floors in their two-story home, re-papered most of the walls, and had the roof re-shingled. Now she was paying for an addition. The absolute only part of the house that seemed to be left unchanged was Tiffany’s room.
“Be careful out there,” Mrs. Perron told her as she left. “He’s goin’ after the pretty girls.”
***
ONCE HALEY ARRIVED home, she stopped at her mailbox. Seeing that it was empty, she loitered for a moment, closing her eyes and resting a palm on the warm metal. She was tired. Very, very tired. But for the first time in a long time, she was determined. And it felt good.
“Where’ve you been?” a voice called.
Haley opened her eyes and shielded them from the sun. Her mother was standing under the carport. Sasha stood next to her, wrapped in a bath towel.
“The Perrons,” she said, walking towards them.
“Where’s Becky?” her mother demanded.
“I don’t know. Why?”
Sasha ran from the carport, toward her. The towel dropped to the concrete driveway.
“Hay-wee! I falls into da water and sees a gatuh!”
“What?” Haley exclaimed, staring up at her mother. “He fell into the bayou?”
“He could’ve killed himself. I found him at the shallow end by the dock,” Mrs. Landry said. “But what if he hadn’t been? What if he would have fallen from the pier?”
Haley’s heart pitched.
“I dids. I dids see a gatuh. He had sharp teeths! He almost gots me, but Missus Landry got out o’ huh bed and sayfed me.”
The naked damp-haired little boy hugged Haley. He had no idea of the magnitude of what happened. What could have happened. Haley’s stomach felt like it was on the tumble cycle.
“If it hadn’t been for your father waking me up to tell me he was out there—” her mother said and stopped to hug her sides.
Haley’s face began to burn. She ignored her mother’s words. She wasn’t going to make this all about ghosts, death, the past. They needed to live in the present for once and for all. She had made the decision earlier and she was going to stick to it. No matter what everyone else chose to do.
“This is your fault!” she screamed at her mother. “Becky’s fifteen, Mom. Fif-teen! If you’re not looking after her, no one is. What’s it going to take to get you to come to your senses? Sasha falling in the bayou again and actually drowning?” Sasha let go of her waist and took a couple of steps backward. He stared at Haley, his eyes wide. But Haley’s voice only grew louder. Becky getting snatched up by some freakin’ lunatic while she’s out their taking rides from strangers? Happening across the lunatic stranger who took Tiffany? For one of us to die like Daddy did? It seems like that’s what it’ll take for you pay attention to us again!”
The woman’s face crumbled. “Oh God. I’m. . . a horrible mother.”
Haley hadn’t meant to scream, but she wasn’t sorry she had. It was months of built-up hurt and frustration that needed unleashing. She felt an immediate sense of relief.
She watched a lizard scale the front of the house and her eyes filled with tears. “Yes, you’ve been horrible. Becky’s impressionable and she needs you. We both do. This has to stop or you’re going to ruin her.”
Her mother gazed into the middle distance.
“Daddy’s been gone for nearly a year,” she added. “But we’re still here. We’re still here and Becky needs you. Be here for her. Be here for us. If you don’t, you’ll regret it. We all will. You’ll not only lose him, you’ll lose us, too. We’ll hate you and then you’ll have nobody.”
The woman nodded, her eyes flooded with tears. But for the first time since the accident, they were open. Really open.
Chapter 63
ERICA SNEEZED AS she hurried into the front door.
Pamela was in the living room, wearing denim overalls, a paint brush in her hand. “Oh, dang it, I wanted this to be a surprise!”
Ribbons of tape were everywhere, and the once white walls of the living room were now a cool, navy blue.
“Does my father know you’re painting in here?”
Pamela’s smile spread. “No, he’s still at work. It’s his surprise too. Don’t it look nice?”
In a way it did. It was the type of look she imagined many New York City apartments boasted. Contemporary. A little airy. Cozier somehow. Erica had the suspicion that her mother would have thought the color gave the room more character.
She shrugged. “It’s okay.”
“You don’t mind, do you? I wanted to talk to you but you haven’t been home much. Then, I thought I’d just surprise you.”
No, she didn’t care. She wouldn’t care if Pamela had painted the living room walls black. This was her father’s house, not hers. Besides, she had much more important things on her mind than Pamela and her silly redecorating.
Through the fumes, Erica could smell Pamela’s perfume. It was new. Better. She’d also taken notice of the books the woman left around the house. Some romances, but most of it was nonfiction. From the titles, it was apparent Pamela wanted to learn how to cook more ethnic food and had a fascination with the subject of self-help. The woman liked to learn.