Liars and Fools by Robin Stevenson Page A

the marina or over to Joni’s place or still sitting in the kitchen eating waffles and waiting for Abby’s mom to pick her up. Anything but this.
    Kathy jumped out of her car and opened the back door for me. “Thanks for coming,” she said. “I was so glad when your dad said you’d changed your mind.”
    She wouldn’t be so glad if she knew why. I slipped into the car behind Caitlin, who was wearing a short white skirt and a fluffy pink sweater. The car was spotless and smelled new, like leather and shampoo. I thought of our old Toyota and the way it always had empty pop cans and potato-chip bags scrunched under the seats.
    I buckled my seat belt, avoiding her eyes, and we drove in silence for a while. I was trying to think of ways to ask Kathy about her work without being too obvious. She drove fast, moving into the passing lane and skimming along Douglas Street toward the mall. The engine purred quietly, and some classical music played softly on the stereo. Dad never speeds, but that may be because our car starts to rattle before we even get close to the speed limit.
    I hate you, Kathy, I thought. I watched her face in the rearview mirror. If she could read my mind, she wasn’t showing any signs of it. I tried thinking loudly, projecting my thoughts toward her like arrows. Stones. Missiles. I hate you, and I’m not going to let you be with my dad . The car purred along, smooth and quiet, and Kathy didn’t say a word.
    â€œSo,” I said, “I was wondering how you became a medium.”
    There was a pause. Caitlin glanced over her shoulder at me.
    Kathy’s hands tapped the steering wheel. Nervously, I thought. Didn’t that suggest she was hiding something?
    â€œIt’s a long story,” she said. “Are you sure you want to hear it?”
    â€œI’m really interested,” I told her, trying to inject some sincerity into my voice.
    Caitlin turned and glanced at me again, but said nothing. When she turned away, she thumped back against her seat, stiff-shouldered. I wondered what that was about, but kept my eyes on the half of Kathy’s face that I could see in the rearview mirror.
    â€œI had another child, before Caitlin,” Kathy said.
    â€œYou did ?” I wondered why Dad hadn’t told me that.
    Caitlin turned on the radio. Country station.
    â€œCaitlin, do you mind? We’re talking.” Kathy snapped it off again, sounding annoyed. “She was born the year after Jack and I got married. Her name was Nicole.”
    Was. Did that mean what I thought it did? Kathy paused as if she was waiting for me to ask, but I didn’t say anything. I was not going to feel sorry for Kathy, even if she told me she had a dozen dead kids. She couldn’t suck me in that easily.
    Kathy turned and looked at me. “I wanted to have lots of babies. But…well, after Nicole, I couldn’t seem to get pregnant again. The doctors never found a reason. It was five years before Caitlin was born.”
    â€œThe light’s green,” Caitlin said. The car behind us honked its horn.
    Kathy stepped on the gas, and we accelerated abruptly. Caitlin opened her window and stuck one arm out, palm facing the wind.
    â€œAnyway.” Kathy looked up at the rearview mirror, and I accidentally met her eyes for a second. I dropped my eyes back to my lap quickly. “Three years ago, Jack and the girls were in a car accident. They were on their way to a soccer game. Nicole’s team was in the playoffs. Jack was driving. It wasn’t his fault; the other driver was drunk. He plowed into them. Ran right through a red light.”
    My throat tightened. “Oh. That’s awful.”
    â€œYes. Jack was killed instantly. Nicole died in hospital a few days later. She was only a couple of months older than you are now—a few days away from her fourteenth birthday. And Caitlin was almost uninjured. Everyone said it was a miracle.”
    Some