Half In Love With Death (21 page)

“Actually, I'm going to Sheila's tonight for pizza. Okay?”

“That's fine, hon.” She hadn't even noticed I'd changed out of my school clothes. She sat down at the table with Dicky. “Your dad must be working late again.”

“I'm sure he'll be home soon.” I forced a smile.

“With him, I'm not sure about anything.” She took a sip of her gin and tonic.

I looked away, not wanting to talk to her about Dad. I tugged on the hem of my dress, trying to smooth it out. Though the AC made it cold in the kitchen, my palms were wet with sweat.

“Guess I better go.” I edged out of the room.

Mom looked up. “Do you really need to smell like a room full of flowers for pizza with the girls?”

“Mom,” I said.

Her perfect lipstick lips smiled. “Come on, Caroline, no need to be shy, you can tell me if there are going to be boys there. When I was your age, I had a different boyfriend every week.”

I shrugged. “Mom, please.”

“Caroline likes a boy,” Dicky said, and I wanted to smack him. A pink silk scarf that belonged to Jess was draped around his neck. His small hand rhythmically stroked it.

“Cool scarf.” I smirked.

He frowned at me, his gaze so intense his eyes almost crossed.

Mom laughed. “I think it suits him.” It had been a long time since I'd heard her laugh. For one second I wished I wasn't going out; that I could sit in the kitchen with them, that Dad would come home with a kiss for Mom, that everything would be like it used to be. I stared down at the black mirrors of my shoes, and Tony's poem came to mind: “There is darkness in the rain. Darkness touching every living thing.” And I thought, there is darkness in this room with all the lights on. As I turned to go, Dicky was kissing the pink scarf.

• • •

Tony smiled as if nothing in the world was wrong and kissed me when I got in the car. His mouth tasted like Juicy Fruit gum. He was wearing black pants that weren't jeans, and a neatly pressed cream-colored shirt. There was a wet shine to his dark hair. He'd dressed up for me.

We drove to a restaurant called Emilio's. I'd never been there before, but Jess had told me it was a really romantic place. As I walked in I saw that in spite of her tendency to exaggerate, what she'd said was true. Candles flickered on round tables covered with white cloths. Green wine bottles and bunches of fake grapes, their lustrous purple globes glowing in the soft light, decorated the walls. The waiter seated us at a table next to a window. It was like I was in a foreign land, distant from all my worries.

“I thought you'd like this place,” Tony said as we opened our menus. He plucked a rose from the vase on the table, held it to my cheek and said, “For you.” I ordered lasagna. He ordered chicken parmesan and a bottle of Chianti, “For me and my fiancée.” The waiter didn't even blink.

“Fiancée?” I said.

He shrugged. “When I say that, they never ask for ID. You like red, don't you?”

I told him I did. After the waiter filled our glasses, I took a sip, trying to relax, but I could barely swallow it. My hand was closed in a tight fist. Tony uncurled my fingers one by one.

“Come on,” he said. “Is it so hard to smile?”

I tried, but it was a fake smile.

He went on, “I got the car all tuned up. We'll leave for Redondo on Friday. You can tell your parents you're going to a sleepover.” He paused. “Before you know it we'll be sitting here again, all three of us, sharing a bottle of wine together.”

“Right.” I tried to picture Jess in her red bathing suit, smiling, all of us okay, everything the way it was supposed to be.

“You still like me, don't you, Caroline?” He paused. “I think I can tell when I like a girl and she likes me, right?” He tilted his face, his smile uncertain.

I looked up. “I do.”

“That's better,” he said. “I got a little something for you.” He reached into his pocket. I expected a ring like he'd given Edie, but he took out a small, flat box. “Go on and open it.”

Inside was a blue pendant on a thin gold chain. When I looked more closely, I saw it was actually a tiny blue flower sealed in glass. “It's beautiful,” I said as he lifted the necklace from the box.

“It's a forget-me-not.” A chill went through me. I could never forget him. “It belonged to my mother,” he said. “My real mother.” I raised my eyebrows. “She died after I was born. She gave me up, but she gave me this. I guess I should be grateful.” He frowned.

“It probably meant a lot to her,” I said.

“I've waited years to find the right person to give it to.” His fingers tickled as he fastened it around my neck.

“It's very precious to me.” I smiled.

“Glad you like it.” He stared at me with a hurt look on his face. It must have been so hard to be abandoned by his real mother.

When the waiter brought our food, Tony ate like a starved man. He refilled his glass from the bottle on the table. He went to refill mine, saw it was almost full, and shook his head. He held it to my lips and said, “Drink.”

I took a small sip. The way the ricotta in my lasagna spilled out onto the tomato sauce looked like vomit, but I forced myself to eat some. I tried to push my thoughts of Geraldine out of my mind, but I couldn't. Each moment was like a petal peeled away from a cold flower. I was afraid of what I might learn, but at the same time I had to know.

I was amazed that Tony was able to eat calmly, as if the news about Geraldine hadn't shaken him in any way. The police must have asked him a lot of hard questions, especially if they thought the anonymous tip had come from someone he knew. I sipped more wine. He finished off his. As he wiped the last of the tomato sauce from his plate with his bread, I raised my eyes to him. “I feel so bad about Geraldine.”

He leaned back. “I do, too. It's a tragedy.” He refilled his glass.

I went on, “It was terrible the way they talked about you on the news, like you'd done something wrong. How can you stand it?”

He looked as if this was the craziest thing he'd ever heard. “Caroline—I mean, Caro.” There was a wild shine to his eyes. He wrapped his warm hand around mine. His cheeks had a rosy glow. “Those clowns blame me for everything. I'm used to it.”

“You're not worried?”

“When we get back from California with Jess, they'll be calling me a hero.” He was talking too loud. The whole restaurant could probably hear him. “I can't wait until we're out of this place and on the road.” His voice filled with excitement.

“I can't wait either.” I forced myself to finish off the last of my wine, though I hated its sour taste.

Tony went to pour me more, but the bottle was empty. He smiled. “It's time to go dancing.”

As we walked toward the car, I glanced back at the restaurant's blinking red neon sign, wishing for the courage to ask about the shoe. I took a deep breath.

“Tony,” I said.

“What, my love?” He staggered a little as he opened the car door. He'd had more to drink than I realized.

“Nothing,” I said. He turned the key in the ignition and we glided out of the parking spot as if the car had wings. I leaned my head against the back of the seat, my worries trapped inside me. He whistled as he drove across an overpass, the city lights below gleaming like rhinestones on black velvet. He fiddled with the radio. Donovan sang, “Candy Man.” Tony went to change it, but I told him I liked it.

He grinned. “You like it better than my songs?”

I shook my head.

“Good,” he said, “'cause I am the candy man.”

I smiled listening to the sweet, sad melody.

“We're going to the Hi-Ho Club.” He took a turn so fast I almost fell off the seat. I couldn't believe that soon we'd be dancing. Excitement whirled inside me until I remembered I was only getting to go because Jess was missing. I wondered if my happiness would always have an undertone of sadness, just like the song.

As we drove deeper into the darkness, we flew past shadowy houses, a gas station or two, and then nothing but telephone poles. There were fewer and fewer cars on the road. I wondered where the Hi-Ho Club could possibly be. I'd thought it was on Speedway, but we were heading into the desert.

He glanced toward the glove compartment. “Open that up,” he said. “I put the other white shoe in there. You can change into them before we get to the club.”

I froze. “I forgot to bring the other one.”

“You forgot again?”

I nodded.

He pushed his shoulders back. “That's okay. We'll stop by your house and you can sneak in and get it.”

“Tony.” I struggled to clear my throat. “I don't want to wear those shoes. The ones I have on are fine.”

He turned to me. “No, they're not fine. I want you to wear those shoes.”

I felt cold all over, and slid toward the door.

He said more quietly, “They'll look pretty on you.” He went on, “It'll be okay. We'll stop and get it. You'll have no problem sneaking in. We both know your dad and mom will be too soused to notice.”

Darkness stretched on either side of the lonely highway as far as I could see. I had to tell him. A nervous smile crossed my face. “I don't want to stop and get it.”

He swerved to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes. Then he opened the glove compartment and pulled out the shoe. I flinched as he held it up.

“Caroline, what is your problem with this?”

“I'm sorry.” Tears filled my eyes. I didn't want him to be mad at me. That was the last thing I wanted. “It's just that . . . ” I stammered, “I think that's Geraldine's shoe.”

He dropped it in his lap. “Caroline, why do you think this is Geraldine's shoe?”

I looked away. “I don't know.”

He leaned toward me. “I think you do know.” He fixed his eyes on me, blue even in the darkness. “Tell me, why is this her shoe? Come on, Caroline, lots of girls own white shoes.”

I tugged on my snowflake earring. “I know that, but those white shoes came from Sears, and Geraldine's did, too, and we never shop there. Mom says only people who can't afford anything better shop at Sears.” I paused. “And they have an ankle strap, and Geraldine's had an ankle strap. And . . . .” I took a deep breath. Hot tears slid from my eyes. “Her shoes are missing.”

He sighed. “You have a point there.”

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “I meant to tell you earlier, but I didn't know how. And when you told me about your mom, you were so sad I didn't want to upset you. But I was hoping you'd be able to explain it, because I'm worried sick that Jess has done something terrible and that's why she ran away, and you're the only person I know who I can ask about this.”

The silence of the desert rose up around us. Stars twinkled in the cold quiet of the night sky, so many of them; it was as if someone had shaken sugar on the darkness. He turned my face gently toward his. “I can explain, but there are some things you may not want to know.”

The blue irises of his eyes were like that flower encased in glass. “I want to know,” I said. “Knowing is better than not knowing.”

He looked at me sadly. “Once you know something you can't unknow it.”

“I need to know.”

The keys jingled as he fiddled with them. I thought he might drive away without saying anything, but he turned so he was facing me. “I went out with Geraldine a couple of times. She wasn't my type, but she'd gotten it in her head that she was in love with me.”

I caught my breath. So he did know her.

He rubbed his forehead. “She came to one of my parties. We all were there, Debbie, Moose, and your sister. I'd just started seeing Jess.” A quick smile crossed his face. “I knew your sister was the one. We had something special. Geraldine wasn't happy about that. She followed me everywhere that night. She drove me crazy, watching me and Jess with this hurt look like she was right and we were wrong. She acted like she knew everything when she knew nothing. You know that kind of person?” He put his hand on my knee and his eyes searched mine. I worried he thought I was that type of person.

“When she saw me and Jess kissing, she began drinking White Russians.” He frowned. “She got drunk, drunker than I am now.” His gaze slid over me. “The last time I saw her was in the living room. She said I'd ruined her life. I tried to let her down easy. I told her I had loved her but it was over. I held her, but she wouldn't stop crying.” His eyes sort of twitched and he looked away. “Jess came in and saw us together. She started screaming at Geraldine. Your sister was so jealous. She said some mean things, the way she always does.” I nodded.

He went on, “Geraldine ran outside. Jess ran after her.” He put his head in his hands and exhaled hard. “I found Geraldine at the bottom of the pool, Jess sitting on the edge, white as a ghost. She told me Geraldine was so drunk she fell in. I dove in and tried to save her, but Caroline . . . .” He paused. “She wasn't like me. She didn't come back to life. I held her in my arms. She was like a little rag doll.” He looked down at his hands as if he were still holding her. I wanted to say something, but it felt like my throat was closing.

“Jess just sat there not saying a word, Caroline. I think it was an accident, but the way things looked, we had to get rid of the evidence. So, me, Debbie, Moose, and Jess dug a grave in the desert and buried Geraldine.”

My mouth fell open. “You buried her?”

He sighed. “We had to.”

“But why didn't you call the police?”

“We couldn't do that.” He stared out at the desert. “They would have gotten the wrong idea.”

My skin grew cold, my mouth dry. I thought I might throw up. “You did it for my sister, didn't you?”

He reached over and took my hand in his. He held it tight for a second and then said, “When we got back I found the shoes by the pool. Geraldine must have taken them off before she fell in. Jess wanted them. Not sure why, but you know how she gets when she wants something.” I nodded.