Shattered (16 page)

“I have something I need to talk to you about,” she says quietly as she parks her van in the driveway.

“What?” I nervously ask.

“We can talk in the house.”

Now I
know
she found my pills. Why else would she be acting so weird? She was probably “cleaning” my room today, which I’ve clearly told her not to do anymore. But she probably did it anyway. And then she probably got to snooping while she was in there. She seems like the snoopy type. And now she knows what I’ve been doing. As I go into the house, I feel certain of it. She knows.

“Come into the kitchen,” she tells me as I’m about to sneak off to my room—eager to see if the pills are gone.

“Just a minute,” I say in a grumpy tone.

“No, Cleo. Please, come in here now. I
really
need to talk to you.”

I give her a smoldering look, then reluctantly follow her.

“I know how you can be.” She turns on the teakettle. “You will go into your room and never come out again.”

“But I have this headache. I want to—”

“Here.” She reaches into the cabinet where my mother always kept a few first-aid things and over-the-counter medicines. “Take some ibuprofen.” She sets the bottle on the counter, fills a glass of water, then sets it in front of me. “And drink all that water. It will help.”

I shrug as I pry open the bottle, shake out two capsules, pop them into my mouth, and wash them down with water. Then I stare at her with my darkest look, waiting for her to blast me with her discovery. Just get it over with.

“I don’t really know where to begin.” A deep
V
creases her brow. “But I need to just get this out in the open, Cleo.”

I hold my breath now, bracing myself for her accusation, trying to prep my brain to work out some line of defense. Maybe I can tell her that Lola left that box of tampons in my room. I’ll act dumb and say they aren’t even mine. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. It’s amazing how easy it is to lie... once you get started. The tricky part is trying to remember which lies you’ve actually told.

“There was a... well, a rather odd message on the answering machine today.”

I frown, trying to grasp what she is saying. Did T. J. call here? Did he ask about meeting me in the park? Did he mention doing a drug deal? And why would he do something so totally stupid?

“I guess I should just come out with it.” She has a confused expression. “But I confess it’s got me completely bewildered.”

My fists are clenched as I wait for her to get this over with, trying to corral my explanation and make it more believable. Like Lola brought those tampons here when she spent the night, then forgot them the next day when she left for California. And how I just stuck them in a drawer and forgot about them. I imagine how I can make a really shocked expression. But Aunt Kellie is talking again, and I missed the first part of what she said.

“So it was from your mother’s friend.”

“Huh?” Now I’m totally lost.

“Trina. The one who got married recently.”

“Who got married?”

“Remember?
Trina.
She had that bachelorette party. On the night your mother was... uh, killed.”

“Trina?”

Aunt Kellie nods. “She left a message.”

“She called here at the house?”

“Yes. She left a message for your dad. But, of course, I heard it when I played back the messages after I got back from getting groceries this morning.”

“Right...” I nod, still trying to grasp this. “Trina called and left a message. But I don’t get it. Why are you so upset?”

“You need to hear this message.” Aunt Kellie goes over to our answering machine. She pushes a button, skips a couple of old messages, and then I hear a female voice.

“Hello, Hugh. This is Trina Billings. I recently got back from my honeymoon, and I, uh, I heard the terrible news about Karen. I’m just so sorry. I can’t even say how sorry I am. Sorry and sad. But I’m also quite confused, Hugh. You see, my sister saved everything that was in the newspaper in regard to Karen’s murder. And I read it last night, but it just doesn’t add up”
She clears her throat.
“Now, I realize you were on a business trip, but you probably were aware that Karen came to my bachelorette party that night—the night it happened. And she didn’t stay late either. She wanted to go home to be with Cleo since you were away from home. But the newspapers say Karen was murdered in the city. And the city, as you know, is two hours away from Riverside. I just don’t understand why she would’ve gone there late at night”

There’s a long pause, and I wonder if that’s it. But I can tell by Aunt Kellie’s face, there is more.

“And certainly, I don’t want to trouble you about this, Hugh, but it’s just been nagging me all night long and I can’t figure it out. It’s so odd. And I understand that you probably have a lot on your mind, but if you have time, I’d like to hear what really happened and why she was in the city that night. Again, I am so sorry for your loss. Karen was one of the sweetest and finest people I know. I just don’t understand. So please give me a call”
And then Trina rattles off a phone number.

“See?” Aunt Kellie turns to me with a perplexed expression. “I just can’t make heads or tails of it. Can you?”

I do not know what to say. I almost wish the message had been from T. J. now. I wish he’d called and talked about selling me drugs. Really, that would be preferable to this.

“Why would your mother drive all the way from Riverside to go into the city that night?” Aunt Kellie looks truly bewildered. “It really doesn’t make sense. I can understand why Trina called. It’s just so very odd.”

Okay, I’m trying to think fast now. Something... anything... to shift this blame away from me. “Well,” I begin slowly, “it was Trina’s wedding the next day. Maybe Mom went to the city to get her a present.”

“But the wedding present is still here. It’s in a cupboard in the laundry room, all wrapped, with a card and everything. In fact, I’ve been meaning to figure out how to get it to Trina and her husband.”

“Oh...” I nod, still trying to think of something. “Maybe Mom wanted to buy a new dress.”

“A new dress?” Aunt Kellie looks skeptical.

“Well, that night—you know, before she went to the party—she was kind of going through her closet, searching for something to wear, and she wasn’t too happy with the choices. Maybe she decided she needed something more fashionable to wear to the wedding.”

“I don’t know...” Aunt Kellie is unconvinced.

“That
might
be it,” I continue. “Especially after she saw her old college friends at the party. She might’ve realized that she really did need something prettier for the wedding.”

“Even so, wouldn’t she have asked you to go with her? Trina said she left early to come home and be with you. Besides that, what kind of stores would be open that late at night? And you know how your mother hated going into the city in the daytime, let alone at night. Trina is right. It just doesn’t add up.”

Now I frown at my aunt. “So what do you think? Why would my mom go to the city like that?”

She slowly shakes her head. “If it was anyone else... I mean, anyone besides Karen who’d gone into the city late at night and got caught in foul play, well, I might be suspicious.”

“Suspicious?
”

“You know. If it was
someone else.
Not your dear, sweet mother. I might suspect another person’s character. I might suspect that person might be having some kind of clandestine meeting. An illicit affair or blackmail or a drug deal.” She grimaces. “But that’s the result of reading too many mysteries. Because I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that your mother would never ever have been involved in anything shady like that.”

“No, of course not.”

“Anyway, I just thought you should know about the message.”

“Yeah...” I rub my head now, which is actually hurting quite a bit.

“Oh, dear, I forgot all about your headache.” She frowns. “You really don’t look well, Cleo. Maybe you should go lie down.”

“I think I’ll do that.” I turn to go.

“One more thing.”

I wait, once again bracing myself for additional bad news. Like maybe she really did discover my drug stash after all. But maybe I don’t care anymore. Maybe the whole world is about to come crashing down on my aching head anyway.

“I’m just not sure what to tell your dad.”

I turn to peer at her. “Tell him
what?”

“
What Trina said.” She cocks her head to one side, looking at me like she’s questioning my intelligence. “Her message on the answering machine.”

“Oh... yeah.”

“It’s just that I hate to worry him with this. I mean, while he’s on his business trip. He probably needs to stay focused, don’t you think? Do you suppose it can wait until he gets home?”

I shrug. “I don’t see why not.”

“Yes. That’s what I thought.”

I feel a tiny morsel of relief as I go to my room. At least she’s not calling Dad with this news right now. That buys me a bit of time to figure things out. Also, she seems completely oblivious to my dirty little secret. Still, I have a strong sense that it’s all just a matter of time before this fragile house of lies comes crashing down on me.

If only it could bury me alive.

D
espite my resolve to quit these pills, I need them more than ever now. And I don’t think twice about meeting T. J. at the park on Saturday morning for a new supply. Although I resent the way he acts like he’s my new best friend, I try not to let on. I try to act pleasant, hoping he’ll take pity on me and reduce his price. But when he suggests “other ways” that I can get a discount, I feel like punching him. And when he tries to lure me to his derelict car to “party” with his loser buddies, I feel like I could hurl all over his ugly leather jacket.

“You can turn your nose up at me now,” he yells as I hurry away. I’m clutching my baggie like it’s full of diamonds. “But just you wait—you’ll come begging, Cleo. You’ll get down on your knees for me.” He lets out a wicked laugh that sends a cold shock wave running through me.

I start to jog now, telling myself over and over,
This is the last time... the last time.

I can’t keep living like this. Not that this is living. It isn’t. I would rather be dead. Except that now I’m not sure where I’d go when I die. I used to believe I’d end up in heaven, where I’m sure my mother must be right now. But now I feel certain that I am destined for hell. And that scares me. Apparently it doesn’t scare me enough. Because another week passes, a week that is frighteningly similar to the previous week. But even more freaky is that I barely even notice. It’s like I’ve tumbled into this rut—or perhaps it’s the gutter or a deep, deep ditch—and I can’t climb out. And I can’t believe that no one seems to notice my fall. Or maybe they do, but I’m just so spaced out I can’t tell. So turn the days of my life.

Dad’s still on a trip. Aunt Kellie is baking casseroles. Daniel’s talking about college. And I am buying illegal drugs from a thug in the park down the street. For all I know, T. J. could be connected to the “druggie” who murdered my mother. Or wait... maybe that’s me.

My life has been shattered into dozens of jagged little pieces of guilt, shame, deceit, regret, pain, sadness, lies, loss, hypocrisy, selfishness, addiction, denial, fear, and despair. All the good parts seem to be missing, and I doubt I can find them. Even if I could, I don’t think I can ever put myself back together again. And sometimes, like late at night when I can’t sleep, it is very tempting to just swallow all those pills and escape permanently. Except for that big question that hangs over my head like the blade of a guillotine:
Where will I end up?

So I take pills that buzz me into an energetic frenzy, which allows me to dance and dance until my heart is racing and my hands are shaking and I feel like I will throw up or pass out... or just die.

I was relieved when Daniel told me he’d be gone this weekend. His dad is taking him to visit the college campus where he’ll be going next fall. Daniel invited me to come along, but I couldn’t walk that tightrope—balancing my need for my pills with being a “normal” girlfriend around him and his dad. I told Daniel it’s because my own dad is coming home this weekend. But the truth is, I am not looking forward to seeing my dad now. Although I’ve concocted a reasonable excuse for why my mom was in the city the night she was killed, I don’t know if I can make him believe me.

“Do you want to go with me to the airport to get your dad?” Aunt Kellie asks on Saturday afternoon.

“I don’t think so,” I say as I get a glass of water. I’m wearing my tights and leotard. “I need to practice.”

She nods like this is a good excuse. “I’ve got dinner in the oven, but if you’d like to set the table...”

Out of habit, I frown like this is a great imposition. But then I remember my resolve to help out more. “Sure, I can do that.”

She looks relieved. And as soon as she’s gone, I set the table, whirling about the dining room like a dancing busboy, getting everything just so. I even put out the cloth napkins—although Aunt Kellie prefers paper—and fold them exactly like my mother used to do. Then I head back to the basement and dance and dance until I’m too tired to think and it feels like I’m about to have a heart attack.