Bed of Lies (16 page)

"You know Zach, too?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"He's a wonderful man." The woman looked relaxed and almost happy for a moment. So Julie got brownie points just for knowing Zach. "He's marrying a good friend of mine's daughter, in fact."

"What?" Julie had only half been paying attention until she heard the word "marrying" in connection with Zach.

"Zach. He's engaged to Senator Baker's daughter, Gwen. I went to school with her mother a long, long time ago. They're wonderful people. I couldn't be happier for all of them."

"I didn't know Zach was engaged," Julie said. "He didn't mention that."

Not at dinner with Steve and his family or at their engagement party. Not on the floor or in his bed, either.

Julie nearly groaned aloud. How many relationships had they ruined that night?

"Are you all right?" Ms. Reed asked, coming a step closer.

"Yes. I'm sorry. I just... was just surprised. I've known Zach a long time. I used to be good friends with his sister Grace."

"And you knew Emma, too?"

"Yes."

"That's the reason I brought up the family. I suppose you know Emma's a child psychologist. She has a private practice here in town and does some work for social services from time to time. If you wanted someone to talk to Peter, she's wonderful."

"I'm sure she is." And she had that firsthand experience—alcoholic father who beat on their mother on a regular basis. "If we need a shrink, she'd be the one we'd call."

Ms. Reed didn't seem to know how to take that.

"Sorry. This house brings out the sarcastic streak in me, I'm afraid. But I meant what I said. I'm sure Emma's very good at her job. If Peter needs to see someone, she's the one I'd want to help him."

And then, because no other stalling tactics came to mind, Julie turned to the stairs and looked up. "I guess I should go up and say hello to him."

"Go ahead. I'll wait here."

Julie wondered what that meant. Was there some sort of test she had to pass? The fit-parent test? If she did, where in the hell were these people when she was growing up or for the first thirteen years of Peter's life?

She went to the stairs and slowly started to climb. From above, she heard someone scrambling away. So he'd been listening at the top of the stairs.
Great.
She thought back over what she'd said.
There's really no one else to take him?
That should win her some points right off the bat.

She made it to the top of the steps and into the hall. What used to be her room was off to the right. Briefly, she wondered what was there now. Her mother and stepfather's room was to the immediate left and Peter's was at the other end of the hall, door closed.

She forced herself to knock. "Peter? It's me. I need to come in."

No answer.

"Peter? Come on. Just let me in."

Still nothing.

She tried the door. It was locked.

She had vague memories of locking herself in her room, her mother on the other side of the door screaming at her, her stepfather shoving the door open. She wasn't going to do that.

"Fine." Julie sat down on the floor instead, right on the other side of the door. "We can talk this way, if you want."

Utter silence came from the room.

"I'm sorry for leaving the way I did, Peter. I just... couldn't stand it here anymore. I had to get away. I thought it was the only thing I could do. For me." She couldn't have saved him then. "I missed you."

He wrenched open the door and glared down at her. "You did not."

"I did," she said, thinking,
He's so big. So grown up.

What had happened to the little boy she'd left behind?

Julie got to her feet, dismayed to find that they stood nearly eye to eye. If anything, when she was shoeless he'd probably be a bit taller than she was. His bare feet were huge and somehow manlike, wide and long and bony. He had what seemed to be an impossible bulk to his chest, shoulders and arms, a sprinkling of dark hair on his upper lip, dark eyes brimming with anger, dark, thick brows and an unruly head of hair in sad need of a trim.

It seemed at first there was nothing left of the boy. But after a moment, he got tired of glaring at her and looked away. From that angle his face still looked a bit boyish. Like it didn't fit on his body. Like all of his parts were growing at a different rate, and his face was one of the last things to turn manlike.

"I did miss you," she said.

"Yeah. I could tell." He shrugged and stared at the opposite wall. "All the phone calls. The letters. Birthday presents. Christmas stuff. You were really thinking about me, weren't you?"

"I'm here now," she said. "Doesn't that count for anything?"

"You don't want to be here," he shot back.

"No, I don't." No lying about that. "But I don't want you here alone, either, and that meant more to me than how much I hated the idea of coming back here."

"You didn't have to," he said, shrugging again. "I can take care of myself."

"No one's going to let you do that, Peter. You're only thirteen."

"I'll be fine till Mom and Dad get out of jail. It's not like they take care of me when they're here."

True, but... "The lady downstairs won't let you stay here by yourself. I don't want you to be here by yourself with no parents and no one to take care of you."

"Look, I don't need them," he growled. "And I sure as shit don't need you."

Julie took a breath, not liking arguments like this any more than when she'd been a teenager herself. She should probably give him hell about his language. That seemed like the motherly thing to do. But they had more important issues to settle, like the fact that he was stuck. Someone had to take care of him. Like the fact that she truly did care, even if she'd done a lousy job of showing it.

"Well, I'm here now." She could be as stubborn as anybody. "And I'm going to do my best to take care of you."

"I told you, I don't need anybody to take care of me."

"Then there shouldn't be much for me to do," she said, switching tactics midstream. "Maybe I'll just consider this a little vacation. I haven't had one in a long time."

He seemed taken aback by that. Was this the way? Agreeing with him and just staying? God, she didn't want to stay.

"You could come back to Memphis with me," she said.

He made a face. "What's in Memphis?"

"Not much," she admitted. No job. No fiancé. A few friends, but no one she was close to. "I live there. They have good barbecue. Nice music. The Mississippi..."

Peter shook his head and snarled, "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Fine. We'll stay here," she bluffed. Surely he wouldn't really want to do that. Surely he'd always wanted a chance to get away, just like she had.

He seemed at a total loss then. Like he'd expected a good fight. Like he might enjoy it. She took perverse pleasure in denying him the opportunity.

Peter's bottom lip started to tremble and a telltale glistening came into his eyes as he stood there, as defiant as ever on the outside and crumbling inside.

She reached for him. "I'm sorry, Peter. I'm so sorry."

He backed up a step, his chin jutted up, and his tears never fell. "I hate you," he said. "I hate you almost as much as I hate them."

Then he slammed the door in her face.

* * *

The social worker had obviously heard every word. She was standing halfway up the stairs as Julie came back down. They walked into the living room. Neither of them sat down.
Might as well get this over with,
Julie decided.

"So, what now? Do we have to fill out some paperwork? Sign something? It's been a long day already, and..."

"We have forms to fill out, and there will be things to sign. But I wanted you to have some idea of what you'll be dealing with, with Peter, first. If you're sure..."

"I'm sure," Julie said.

"All right. Why don't I take Peter back to the shelter, and I'll come back? Then we can get started."

"What's he doing in a shelter?"

"It's the best we could do. I'm sorry. We didn't have any open slots with foster parents at the moment."

Kiddie jail.
To think she'd joked about it. In that moment she was glad she'd come. Peter must have been so scared, thinking that she wouldn't.

"I'll go see if he's gotten his things together, and we'll go," Ms. Reed said.

"Wait, go?" Julie still didn't understand.

"I'm sorry. Obviously I didn't make myself clear," Ms. Reed said. "Yesterday, when both his parents were arrested, Peter was taken into the custody of the Division of Child and Family Services. Once we do that, he's our responsibility. Mine and the judge's and a whole host of other people's, and our job is to make sure he's in a safe place."

"He'll be safe with me," Julie said. "I'm his sister."

"But you're not his legal guardian or his parent. Which means we have some work to do. References, court records, criminal background check, work history, that sort of thing."

Julie wondered if she'd pass. "And how long does all that take?"

"If everything checks out—quickly—we might be able to get you temporary custody in forty-eight hours or so."

"Oh."

"It's for his protection. To make sure he's placed with a responsible adult."

Responsible? That would be me?

"I just broke up with my fiancé and quit my job. Yesterday," she said. "Is that a problem?"

"It depends... You and your fiancé... is it... an abusive relationship?"

"No."

"Do you drink? Use illegal drugs?"

"No."

"Ever been arrested?"

"No."

"What about stability? How long had you been in that job?"

"Just two years, but I'd been with the company for five. I started working there while I was in school."

"That's good. Your employment record won't show any problems?"

"No." Somehow she'd managed to be a model employee.

"We'll need to speak with your former employer."

"That would be my former fiancé," she said, wondering if Steve would tell Ms. Reed that Julie was sleeping with Zach, the fiancé of Ms. Reed's good friend's daughter. "Working there didn't seem like a good idea after breaking our engagement."

"I can understand that. We're not asking that you be a saint, or someone who's never made a mistake. If everything you've told me checks out, we should be fine. Provided you can handle your brother."

Julie laughed yet again.

"You did fine up there. He's angry at the whole world right now, with good reason. It's better to have it come out than for him to be bottling it up inside. And it's going to be hard for him to trust that you're going to stay, because he must feel like his parents just abandoned him. You can work past that, in time, if that's what you really want. If you don't, it would be better for him if you left right now rather than let him come to depend on you and then lose you, too.

"Think about it," Ms. Reed said. "I'm going upstairs. It was late when we gave up on finding a foster home to take him last night, and he didn't pack any more than he needed for one night. I don't think he believed me when I told him he wouldn't be back home for a while. If he's finished packing, I'll take him back to the shelter and then come back here so you and I can get started."

"Thank you."

Julie sat down on the sofa. This was going to be more difficult than she'd feared. From upstairs, she heard shouting, Peter mainly. "Why?" he said, and "I don't understand." Did he want to stay with her after all? Maybe she was better than a shelter, at least.

He came downstairs a few moments later, a scuffed-up duffel bag in one hand and a basketball in the other, Ms. Reed following closely behind. He paused for a moment by the front door and glared at her before stalking outside.

Ms. Reed handed her a key. "To the house. It's Peter's."

Julie took it and went to the door, calling after him, "I'll be right here, Peter, and you will be, too. Just give us a couple of days."

He didn't acknowledge her words in any way, just walked across the overgrown grass of the front yard and stood rigidly, his back to her, by the social worker's car.

"Try not to worry so much. He's far from the first scared, angry teenager we've dealt with," Ms. Reed said. "We'll be in touch."

And then Julie found herself in the last place she wanted to be. With no job, no fiancé, and a brother who said he hated her. Oh, and a social worker who was good friends with the mother of the fiancé of the man she'd slept with two nights ago. As she saw it, she didn't have a chance in hell of making this work.

She also needed to talk to Zach. She could say she was sorry again, and then maybe beg him not tell his fiancée about the two of them, for Peter's sake.

Julie looked at the clock. Almost three o'clock. Thirty-six hours after they'd done the deed. If she knew Zach, he'd already confessed.