after Mac, catching up with him outside the spare bedroom.
“Mac, wait.” She huffed, slightly breathless from racing up
the steps with a belly full of beer and pretzels.
He paused in the dark doorway, not looking back.
“It’s not like it seems.” Reaching out, she tentatively
touched his back.
His muscles tightened under her fingers. “Really? So you
didn’t tell somebody else what I said to you the other morning in the privacy
of our bedroom?”
“Well, yes, but …” Her cheeks burned with guilt. She glanced
over her shoulder, wondering if Jess was lurking around the corner. “Listen,
can we go in the bedroom and discuss this behind a closed door?”
There were too many ears around this place, and Claire was
already zero for three on keeping secrets.
Mac’s eyes were shrouded when he turned to her. Shadows
defined his cheekbones. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Because you have a way of distracting me, especially when
you start removing your clothes. Maybe it’d be best if you spent another night
in the R.V. with your mom and sister.” He flicked on the light and backed into
the room. “Sleep tight, Claire. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
“Mac, come on.”
“Or your mother.” With his lips flat-lined, he shut the
door.
* * *
Kate rubbed her eyes and dropped onto the couch. She wanted
nothing more than to nestle all snug in her bed while visions of cell bars
slipped from her head.
The R.V. smelled like baked plastic. The heat that had built
up during the day seeped slowly out through the windows Kate had opened after
Gramps had dropped her off. She could hear the tinkling of Manny’s wind chimes
every now and then above the racket the frogs were making down by the creek.
Ten minutes under Gramps’s shower had washed the musty,
locker room smell of the police station from her skin and hair, but no amount
of water could rinse off the layer of shame and humiliation that now coated her
from head to toe. If Kate ever saw Butch again, she’d run and hide under the
nearest cactus.
Henry finished chomping down his dinner and walked over to
her. He rubbed his snout against her leg and whined quietly.
Smiling, she patted his head. At least someone still liked
her. With a grunt, he dropped onto his belly at her feet.
Kicking off her old Snoopy slippers, she fell back onto her
pillow. The soft cotton sheet underneath her felt cool against the back of her
legs. Kate hummed softly, trying to block out the sound of her mom brushing her
teeth in the bathroom.
If she heard one more peep out of Deborah about how
embarrassing it’d been to walk into that police station in broad daylight, Kate
was going to shave her eyebrows and join a cult.
But worse than the lecture Deborah had been cramming down
Kate’s throat was the lack of comment from Gramps. The few looks he’d shot her
in the rearview mirror on the way home had made her feel nine years old—fresh
from the principal’s office after fighting on the school bus. With each passing
milepost, she had slumped deeper into Mabel’s leather embrace, wishing she
could slip down between the seats and curl into a ball in the trunk.
Kate couldn’t wait to close her eyes and make it all go away.
She clapped her hands twice, and the overhead light turned off. Ah, sweet,
nonjudgmental darkness.
She heard her mother emerge from the bathroom and shut the
bedroom door behind her. Apparently, there’d be no “goodnight, dear” from her
mom tonight. Thank God for the silent treatment.
Breathing deeply, Kate focused on relaxing her legs, then
her lower back, her arms, her fing …
The front door banged open. The smack of the aluminum into
the wall triggered the Clapper.
Kate popped up like a whack-a-mole, blinking in the light.
Henry jumped up, growling.
Claire stood just inside the threshold, her face stony, eyes
flaming.
“Christ, Claire.” Kate sank back against cushions. “You
scared the crap out of me.”
“Good!” Claire shut
“Mac, wait.” She huffed, slightly breathless from racing up
the steps with a belly full of beer and pretzels.
He paused in the dark doorway, not looking back.
“It’s not like it seems.” Reaching out, she tentatively
touched his back.
His muscles tightened under her fingers. “Really? So you
didn’t tell somebody else what I said to you the other morning in the privacy
of our bedroom?”
“Well, yes, but …” Her cheeks burned with guilt. She glanced
over her shoulder, wondering if Jess was lurking around the corner. “Listen,
can we go in the bedroom and discuss this behind a closed door?”
There were too many ears around this place, and Claire was
already zero for three on keeping secrets.
Mac’s eyes were shrouded when he turned to her. Shadows
defined his cheekbones. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“Because you have a way of distracting me, especially when
you start removing your clothes. Maybe it’d be best if you spent another night
in the R.V. with your mom and sister.” He flicked on the light and backed into
the room. “Sleep tight, Claire. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
“Mac, come on.”
“Or your mother.” With his lips flat-lined, he shut the
door.
* * *
Kate rubbed her eyes and dropped onto the couch. She wanted
nothing more than to nestle all snug in her bed while visions of cell bars
slipped from her head.
The R.V. smelled like baked plastic. The heat that had built
up during the day seeped slowly out through the windows Kate had opened after
Gramps had dropped her off. She could hear the tinkling of Manny’s wind chimes
every now and then above the racket the frogs were making down by the creek.
Ten minutes under Gramps’s shower had washed the musty,
locker room smell of the police station from her skin and hair, but no amount
of water could rinse off the layer of shame and humiliation that now coated her
from head to toe. If Kate ever saw Butch again, she’d run and hide under the
nearest cactus.
Henry finished chomping down his dinner and walked over to
her. He rubbed his snout against her leg and whined quietly.
Smiling, she patted his head. At least someone still liked
her. With a grunt, he dropped onto his belly at her feet.
Kicking off her old Snoopy slippers, she fell back onto her
pillow. The soft cotton sheet underneath her felt cool against the back of her
legs. Kate hummed softly, trying to block out the sound of her mom brushing her
teeth in the bathroom.
If she heard one more peep out of Deborah about how
embarrassing it’d been to walk into that police station in broad daylight, Kate
was going to shave her eyebrows and join a cult.
But worse than the lecture Deborah had been cramming down
Kate’s throat was the lack of comment from Gramps. The few looks he’d shot her
in the rearview mirror on the way home had made her feel nine years old—fresh
from the principal’s office after fighting on the school bus. With each passing
milepost, she had slumped deeper into Mabel’s leather embrace, wishing she
could slip down between the seats and curl into a ball in the trunk.
Kate couldn’t wait to close her eyes and make it all go away.
She clapped her hands twice, and the overhead light turned off. Ah, sweet,
nonjudgmental darkness.
She heard her mother emerge from the bathroom and shut the
bedroom door behind her. Apparently, there’d be no “goodnight, dear” from her
mom tonight. Thank God for the silent treatment.
Breathing deeply, Kate focused on relaxing her legs, then
her lower back, her arms, her fing …
The front door banged open. The smack of the aluminum into
the wall triggered the Clapper.
Kate popped up like a whack-a-mole, blinking in the light.
Henry jumped up, growling.
Claire stood just inside the threshold, her face stony, eyes
flaming.
“Christ, Claire.” Kate sank back against cushions. “You
scared the crap out of me.”
“Good!” Claire shut
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