Monday's Child (2 page)

Four

Kevin Browne was careful to stand back, well out of the way. As an extra precaution, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and then tucked his elbows in close to his body. He breathed as quietly as he could, which, because he had a cold, was through his mouth.

Jill Baker appeared to be unaware of his presence as she worked intently at the computer, but he knew differently. He knew better.

She was never unaware.

Spooky, how nothing seemed to get past her.

Some of the other kids thought she had eyes in the back of her head. Since his last name came after hers in the alphabet and he sat behind her in class, he’d had plenty of opportunities to check out the back of her head, and so far he hadn’t come across a second pair of eyes.

That didn’t mean they weren’t there.

An avid fan of scary books and movies, Kevin believed
anything
was possible. Lately, he had come to suspect that she was an alien life form from another planet in a far away galaxy.

Aliens were particularly good at disguising their alienage, although there was usually something that gave them away. A fondness for reptile breakfasts or green blood or dissolving in the rain . . .

Alien or not, the very last thing he wanted to do was get her mad at him.

Again,
a little voice in his head whispered.
Don’t get her mad at you again.

Kevin had been living dangerously lately. Sometimes he couldn’t help it.

“You’re asking for it, Kevin,” his mother always said, and maybe she was right.

On Monday, he’d tried to glue Jill’s books together, squirting practically a full container of Elmer’s Glue-All between her Reader and her math workbook, but the stuff didn’t have a chance to dry and all he’d wound up making was a mess.

He was good at messes.

At morning recess on Tuesday he’d accidentally on purpose kicked a soccer ball directly at her while she was playing hopscotch, waiting until her back was to him, but she’d jumped aside at the last moment and then gave him a look that had made his insides churn.

And yesterday, when everyone was lining up to go to the auditorium for the Easter pageant rehearsal, he shuffled his feet across the carpet and then reached out to touch Jill, giving her a jolt of static electricity.

Jill looked as though she might like to give
him
a charge. Something dark and dangerous was going on behind her eyes.

But Miss Appleton had come along the line just then, telling everyone to face the front, stop talking, and act like young ladies and gentlemen.

Saved!

There wouldn’t always be someone coming along to save him, he knew, and he also knew when he was treading on thin ice. As the youngest in a family of five boys, he’d developed a fine sense of when he’d reached that point beyond which retribution waited.

Knowing when to stop was the only thing that had kept his brothers from killing him, and it was what kept his hands in his pockets now.

Jill Baker frightened him.

The thing was, a part of him
liked
being scared. He liked the feeling he got when the hair on his arms stood up or when his heart raced and ice water seemed to flow through his veins.

He enjoyed the sensations of fear.

Even just standing this close to her made his muscles tingle, and he had a kind of fluttering in his stomach. Neither were unpleasant feelings.

Once he’d tried to tell some of the other guys how he felt and they’d misunderstood.

“Kevin loves Jill, Kevin loves Jill,” they taunted.

A couple of the girls in his class had overheard and they joined in the torment, probably because Jill was absent that day and they felt safe. Before long, all the kids on the playground were singing:

“Kevin and Jill, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes sister in a baby carriage.”

It was one of the few times in his life that he’d been glad when recess was over.

He didn’t love her, or any girl.

In fact, of all the girls he didn’t love, he didn’t love Jill more than any of them.

His mother and father called Jill a heartbreaker, and his brothers teased him about her, because they said she was pretty and when she grew up, watch out.

Kevin would die before he’d admit it, but he knew they were right, except he thought she was pretty in the way that certain spiders were. Being pretty didn’t make them any less deadly.

As for the part about being a heartbreaker,
that
he could believe.

He often wondered, if he made her mad enough, would she pull his heart out of his chest and break it before his dying eyes?

A shiver ran up his spine.

“Kevin,” a voice said from behind him.

Startled, he jumped and, off-balance with his hands still in his pockets, fell against the wall. He struck his left shoulder and elbow hard, bringing sudden tears to his eyes.

Jill turned from the computer, her hands resting in her lap.

Miss Appleton looked at him and shook her head. “Honestly, Kevin. Sometimes I think you’re an accident just waiting to happen. Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Sure?” At his nod, she continued: “The two of you can come join the others now. We need to get the Easter baskets finished.”

Jill had gotten up, and he stayed back, leaning against the wall, as she passed by him. She came close enough that he could smell the lemony scent of her hair and, in spite of his resolve not to, he found himself looking at her.

She gave him only the briefest of glances, but it felt very much as though her fingers were closing around his heart.

Without a thought as to the consequences, he stuck out his tongue.

Five

“Georgia?”

Georgia looked up from the list of new acquisitions to see Faye Paxton standing in the doorway, a curious smile on her face.

“I’m sorry, Faye,” she said, taking off her reading glasses, “were you talking to me?”

“I think maybe
at
you. It’s past one. You want to go have lunch?”

“Lunch?”

“You know, what most people eat between breakfast and dinner.” Faye came into the small cluttered office and began to sort through a box of books that one of the patrons had donated to the library. “Or have you chained yourself to the desk again?”

“No, I can take a break,” she said after glancing at her watch. Where had the morning gone? She penciled an X on the invoice to mark her place and then stood up. “But I do need to run a couple of errands, if you don’t mind.”

“You know me, I never mind,” Faye said, closing the book she was holding and returning it to the box. “More errands, huh? I guess he’s really got you running in circles, doesn’t he?”

It struck her as an odd remark, even coming from Faye, and Georgia looked at her with a frown. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Not a thing.”

“Faye . . .”

“Just making idle conversation.”

“You? When have you ever?”

“I am now.”

Georgia regarded her skeptically. It wasn’t like Faye to be evasive, or for that matter, tactful. She’d never been one to shy from asking the most intimate of questions, nor did she hesitate to offer advice, unsolicited or otherwise.

Reticence was simply not in Faye’s makeup.

“You know you can’t keep a secret no matter how hard you try,” Georgia said. “You might as well tell me now and save yourself the aggravation.”

“Since you put it that way . . . I guess someone has to, and I’d rather you hear it from me. But—” Faye took her by the arm and led her towards the door “—I think I’d better wait until we’re somewhere more private.”

“Where’s more private than here?”

“Are you kidding? The ventilation ducts in this place act like amplifiers. A careless word and it’d be all over town in a minute, if it isn’t already.”

“What
would be all over town?”

Faye’s expression was grim. “You don’t have a clue, do you?”

At Faye’s insistence, they went to eat first. Settled in a booth at Hamburger Haven, Georgia waited until they’d ordered their lunches and the waitress had brought their drinks.

“Well?”

Faye busied herself with her iced tea—squeezing the lemon wedge, adding two packets of sugar, and stirring. And stirring.

“What are you doing?” she asked finally.

Faye avoided meeting her eyes. “This isn’t easy.”

“Just tell me.”

“I will. Only let me do it my way.” She folded the empty sugar packets into neat squares. After a moment she took a deep breath and looked up. “I went out to dinner last night.”

“Yes?”

“To Baker’s.”

“And?”

“Did you know that Dave hired a new hostess?”

Georgia sat back. “He told me he was going to. I know he was interviewing, trying to find someone to take Linda May’s place while she’s having her baby. I didn’t know he had.”

“Then you haven’t met her?”

“No, obviously I haven’t.”

Faye ran a manicured thumbnail along the crease of her napkin. “She’s gorgeous.”

“Is she?” Georgia attempted a smile. “That ought to bring in the business.”

“Funny business, maybe.”

“No, really. An attractive hostess is an asset to any restaurant.”

“Well, honey, she was certainly swinging her assets around.”

“Faye . . .”

The waitress chose that moment to arrive with their food, giving them each other’s order and spilling the au jus for Georgia’s French Dip in the process.

“Enjoy,” she said with a snap of her gum, and quickly disappeared.

They switched plates.

“Anyway,” Faye said, probing her Chef’s salad with her fork, “they seemed to be very friendly.”

“As opposed to being unfriendly? I don’t see the harm in that.”

“I mean
friendly
.”

Georgia felt the heat rise in her face. “I assume they remained clothed?”

Faye’s eyes widened. “Whoa! Don’t get mad at me. I’m only telling you what I saw.”

“No, you’re telling me your interpretation of what you saw. What really happened?”

“Well,” Faye put down her fork and leaned forward, lowering her voice, “they were kind of whispering and laughing when we first got there, and then later she was standing at the reservation counter and he came up behind her and put his arm around her.”

“That’s it?”

“It all seemed a bit too cozy, if you ask me.”

“Listen, I appreciate your concern, but I think you’re making something out of nothing.” She dipped a french fry into the au jus, twirled it, but didn’t eat it. “I’ve seen him do the same thing with Linda May.”

“Linda May is happily married, perpetually pregnant, and not, if I may say so, a raving beauty.
This
girl is trouble with a capital T.”

“Trouble,” Georgia said, smiling faintly. “Right here in River City?”

“I wouldn’t make light of it, if I were you.”

Georgia reached across the table and patted her friend’s hand. “Don’t worry so much. Dave and I are fine.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

Faye held her gaze for a moment before nodding slowly. “All right. Good.” She picked up her fork and speared strips of turkey and cheese. “God, I’m famished, aren’t you?”

“Starving,” Georgia said. But she didn’t eat.

There was an auxiliary post office in the same small shopping center that housed Hamburger Haven, and Georgia went in to mail the bills—better late than never—and buy stamps. Not wanting to stand in line, she fed five dollars’ worth of quarters into the vending machine, made her selection and turned to leave without waiting for the book of stamps to drop.

Faye followed after her and tucked the stamps into the outside compartment of her purse. “You forgot these.”

“Did I? I don’t know where my mind’s at.”

Faye only smiled and shook her head.

At the pharmacy door she picked up a refill of Dave’s sinus medication and nearly walked out without paying for it.

“So,” Faye said, hurrying to catch up with her, “how is Jill these days?”

“Jill’s okay,” Georgia said. “Except for having a button fetish.”

“Buttons?”

“She collects them.” Georgia paused, shading her eyes to look in a display window.

“Hmm. Kids are strange.”

“I don’t know, I used to collect all kinds of weird things when I was her age. Which reminds me, I wanted to get her an Easter present.”

“In here?” Faye peered in the window. “This is an auto parts store.”

“No, no. I’ve decided that she’s old enough now to have a pet.”

“What, a goldfish or something?”

“I was thinking of a bunny.”

Pet Corner had a corral full of bunnies and it took some doing, but Georgia found the perfect one, a black and white flop-eared dwarf rabbit.

The rabbit’s fur was unbelievably soft and she stroked it gently, marveling at the feel of it. She could feel the animal’s heart racing and she cuddled the small form to her, trying to soothe the poor thing before putting it into a separate holding pen.

She then selected a cage, feeding bowls, rabbit chow, vitamins, and other necessities, arranging to have everything delivered to the house after work. As the cashier was ringing it all up she added a book:
How to Care for Your New Rabbit, or You’re No Bunny till Some Bunny Loves You.

The total came to seventy-six dollars and thirty-nine cents.

“Ouch,” she said, looking at what was left of her cash. “Will you take a check?”

“Sure, with I.D. and a major credit card.”

She dug out her checkbook but upon opening it, she groaned.

Faye peeked over her shoulder. “As bad as that? Need a loan?”

“It isn’t that; I’ve got the money,” Georgia said, although that wasn’t exactly true. She tore out the top check. “I forgot to give this to Jill for her school pictures. She was late this morning—”

“Ma’am?” the clerk interrupted. “Seventy-six thirty-nine, please.”

“Oh, sorry.” She scribbled hurriedly. “Faye, don’t let me forget to call the school. I want the pictures, and I don’t think they’ll even take them unless you pay in advance.”

Faye laughed. “Don’t be silly. As pretty as Jill is, there’s not a photographer in the world who could resist that face.”