Problem Child, page 11
A glance toward the old trailer reveals the little window that used to be my room. The glass is cracked. I cracked it.
I stop and stare at the long line that reaches diagonally through the glass from one corner to another. I should have destroyed this place back then. I wanted to. But where would that have landed me? Living in an even more broken-down trailer on this same worthless land.
I leave my mom behind, still screaming my name as I drive away.
CHAPTER 11
I drop in on Central Baptist Church on my way out of town. It’s a Tuesday afternoon, so I expect things to be quiet, and they are, but there’s always a church secretary around keeping things running. I enter through wooden doors badly in need of a coat of paint.
The last time I was in a church, it was a shiny glass-and-metal warehouse for righteous souls, but Central Baptist is a small-town place. The chapel is dark, the pews are ancient, and I’m sure the basement meeting rooms still smell like mildew. They always did.
I’m not struck dead when I step into the small receiving area, so I continue toward a couple of open office doors I see past the bathrooms. Despite the gloomy day, it’s hot in here. If memory serves, it was always hot in here. Too much furnace in the winter, and nothing but a couple of window air conditioners in the summer. At least the basement was cooler during post-service potlucks, and that was all I cared about.
“Hello?” a woman calls from a room farther down. “Can I help you?”
“Hi there!” I lay on my Okie accent as I slide into the doorway. “I’m looking for Pastor Truman? He around?”
“No, ma’am.” The round-faced woman has a friendly tone, but her mouth is pulled into a perpetual frown that highlights the deep lines between her bushy eyebrows. “No. He left us several months ago.”
“Dead?” I ask.
“Oh no! Not at all. He moved up to Missouri, I think. Quite a surprise, but we are working on hiring a new youth minister. Is there something I can help you with?”
“I think Pastor Truman knew my niece Kayla?”
“Kayla?”
The eyebrows draw even closer together. She looks about fifty, but a good threading would take five years off her face, and she has kind eyes.
“She’s missing. You may have heard about that. Sarah’s granddaughter?”
“Sarah. Oh. Of course.” The lines smooth out a little when her face flattens at the sound of my mother’s name.
“Anyway, I found Pastor Truman’s card in my niece’s room, and I thought she may have confided something to him, him being a youth minister and all.”
Her face creases in genuine worry. “I’m so sorry about your niece, but I honestly don’t remember seeing her around here. Pastor Truman was here for several years, though, so maybe that card was from a while ago?”
“Could’ve been. When did he leave?”
“Oh, six months ago, I guess. Just out of the blue! His wife was pregnant with their third, and I guess she missed her family up in Hannibal, so off they went. He only gave us a week’s notice, but happy wife, happy life, right?”
“No scandal, then?”
“Of course not!”
“All right. Thanks for your help. And my mama’s really enjoying that new trailer.”
“Oh, sure, well . . . Tell Sarah we say hi. We ain’t seen her in quite a while now.”
“Since she got the trailer?”
“Well . . .”
“Don’t worry, she’ll be back around next time she needs something. You have a blessed day, now.”
She can’t quite reconcile my sugary tone with my words, and the deep lines are back between her brows, but she tries a cheerful “You too, ma’am!”
Ma’am. Yeesh. That’s getting old. My kingdom for a smart young bartender who knows to call me miss. Maybe I’ll find one later tonight, but the ma’ams are hot and heavy around here. I probably won’t escape them until I fly back north.
Oh well. Onward and upward.
My phone rings as I’m getting back into my car. It’s the office again. I have a brief thought that maybe I’m getting promoted, so I decide to answer it after all. “This is Jane,” I say, adding a subtle quaver of vulnerability to my voice. This isn’t a good time but I’m still answering the call.
“Jane,” he says, and I swing the phone away from my face to glare at it. Are you kidding me?
“Rob?” I snap back. “What do you want?”
“Hey, sorry,” he’s saying when I slide the phone back to my ear. “I know this isn’t a good time, but I need to talk to you about North Unlimited. Shouldn’t take a minute.”
“I’m busy. Whatever it is, you’ll need to do it yourself this time, Robert.”
“I just need to grab a couple of details from the numbers you threw out to the client. There’s something wrong with the Google Doc.”
“You want my details?” I ask. “Surely you have your own notes. You worked so hard on that presentation, after all.”
“Jane, this isn’t about me. It’s about the client.”
“Your client.”
“Yeah, um . . .” Rob clears his throat. “I have some good news. They really liked interacting with you.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes. Absolutely. So Jeremy and I talked it over, and we both want you to take the lead in negotiations when you get back.”
Well, well, well. This is quite the news drop. And I have all the power now. No more kid gloves for Rob. “So you came up with the idea that I should take over negotiations for your client. Is that what you’re saying, Robert?”
“I, uh . . .”
“You need my help,” I suggest.
“Yes.”
“You’re asking for my help.”
“Yes.”
“So ask. And I suggest you ask nicely.”
“Jesus,” I hear him mutter before he takes a deep breath. “North Unlimited has requested that I work with you on this, and I’d really love to have you on board.”
“How nice. What did Jeremy say?”
“He, uh . . . he said you should take the lead on negotiations when you get back.”
“This is so strange, Robert, but I still didn’t hear you ask me a question, so I’m not sure how I’m supposed to give an answer.”
“Would you please work with me on this deal and take over negotiations when you’re back in the office?”
“I’m not sure,” I say. “You have a tendency to take credit even when you haven’t done the work. This setup seems rather fraught with risk for me, don’t you think?”
“I . . .” I hear him swallow. “If I’ve taken credit in the past for your work, I apologize.”
“If? That doesn’t indicate to me that you’ve learned anything from your latest missteps, and I don’t think I can trust you enough to work on this project for me. I’ll get in touch with Jeremy and let him know.” I hang up and buckle my seat belt. Before it even clicks in, my phone is ringing again.
I wait a few seconds before answering. “Yes?”
“Jane, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve taken advantage of your knowledge and leaned on you over the past year. I’ve really appreciated all your hard work, and I promise it won’t happen again.”
“I’m dealing with a family tragedy here, Robert.”
“I know. I know. I just . . . I really screwed up that presentation to North Unlimited, and they’re pretty insistent that I work with you on this. I’m begging you.”
Begging me? Well, I do like that. I raise my eyebrows and settle back into the seat of my car. “Begging me for what?”
“I know you’re concentrating on your niece, and that’s what you should be doing. So I’ll do the work. I’ll get everything together, write up the proposals, all of that. If you could just send me your notes. Then, when you return, you’re lead negotiator. But please don’t freeze me out on this.”
Wow. I purposefully made myself look good and Rob look terrible, but I got distracted by the excitement of hunting for Kayla, and I didn’t push through to claim my place. I assumed one of the partners would step in and take charge.
Plus this whole deal is boring as hell, trying to sell smuggled chicken meat from China to a bunch of schoolkids. There’s nothing particularly sparkly about that. Just imagine the bone-dry meetings I’ll get to look forward to.
Still, I want it. And if I can get Rob to do the legwork for me, it will be an ideal situation. I’ll sweep back into town, check his work, of course, and take my place in the spotlight.
“Are you sure about those promises?”
“Absolutely. I’m absolutely sure. You can count on me to have everything ready for you when you get back.”
“All right, then. I’ll forward my notes when I’m back in my hotel room. You get to work. Send me updates. I’ll step in as soon as I’m done here.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much. This is going to be great.”
Well, he’s right about that, at least. This is going to be great.
CHAPTER 12
It’s the middle of a workday, so I can’t imagine where I could track down the head of a local soccer league. That position can’t possibly be a full-time job around here. League fees wouldn’t support a salary.
I look up the man’s name online and discover he’s an assistant manager at a big chain grocery store near my hotel, so I leave my old town behind again. Can’t imagine we’ll miss each other much, though I’m sure the place sparkles a little less once I pull away. Hard to tell past the steam cloud.
I race a train along the highway and remember how I fantasized about hitching a ride on one when I was young. All those things on all those trains going to people who never set foot on these shitty oil lands. I wanted to follow the tracks and steal their lives. In the end I did.
If Kayla is anything like me, she blew the hell out of this place and will never look back. But I still can’t tell. Is she strong and sick like me or just broken like half the other girls here? There was no point in pressing my mother on the issue. A bitch is a bitch is a bitch, in her parlance. There aren’t exactly layers to explore.
If I don’t dig up more in the next twenty-four hours, I’ll have to head back to Minneapolis without hero status. I can’t stay too much longer, now that I’m the new rising star in the office.
Needing a distraction from the flat drive, I call Luke on the speakerphone.
“Hey, babe,” he says cheerfully, as if he misses me too much to remember we’re taking a break.
I grin at his welcome and purr out a sexy hello.
“Any news on your niece?”
“Not really, but I saw my parents.”
“Holy shit! Are you kidding me?”
“Nope. They’re both still alive and kicking and begging for money.”
“Are you okay?”
“Sure. They didn’t jump me or anything.”
He huffs in laughter. “I meant emotionally.”
“You know me. I roll with the punches.”
“Yeah, but . . . what was it like?”
Hm. I pause to think what a normal person would say, but the truth is I don’t have to pretend with Luke. He knows I’m not normal. He doesn’t quite know what’s wrong with me, but he understands that I don’t have the same emotions as others.
“It was good to see them,” I finally say.
“Really? That’s great. So things have gotten better?”
“No, it was good to see that they’re the same and I’m better. I’ll come back to Minneapolis and they’ll be stuck right here being miserable.”
He laughs again as if I’m kidding. “Okay, but you’re sure you’re really all right? I always feel a little sick after seeing my mom, and you’ve said yours was pretty mean.”
“She’s still mean as a bear with a bladder infection, but she looks like shit, so all in all it was a good time.”
“But nothing on your niece?”
“I’m not sure. Apparently she was living with my parents when she disappeared. My mom is convinced she took off with a truck driver, and it doesn’t seem to occur to her that taking off with a strange adult doesn’t mean a sixteen-year-old is alive and well. Funny, huh?”
“And there’s still no sign of her?”
“No. I’m running down a few leads. She had some loser boyfriend named Little Dog—Jesus, that name. He took off himself a week later, so either he’s with her or he skipped town because he knows something incriminating.”
“Maybe he’s looking for her.” Luke is a sweet guy with a bit of a blind spot, which is how he ended up with me.
“So you think a guy named Little Dog is looking out for the safety of a teenage girl to the exclusion of the rest of his life?”
“Okay. Maybe not.”
I feel a sudden surge of lust mixed up with something I don’t recognize. Longing? “So what are you up to?” I ask, trying for some sort of flirtatious affection. “You’re not cheating on me, are you?” I’m sure he’s not, but it’s good to let him know I’m checking.
“Jane, come on!” He laughs like cheating on me is the most preposterous idea he’s ever heard, and I smile at the sound of it.
“You basically broke up with me before I left, so pardon the question.”
“I didn’t break up with you. I asked you to move in with me. There’s a big difference.”
Maybe my anger made me play this all wrong. I should have been working his feelings to my advantage from the start, and instead I was being pissed off about it. I need to keep him tied to me as long as I want him. I need to pull him close even if it disturbs me in ways I don’t understand.
“I love you,” I volunteer. It’s a rare declaration, usually gasped out during sex, because that’s my only real form of intimacy.
“Aw, babe,” he sighs. “I love you too. I’m sorry we fought, and I’m worried about you. That’s a lot to take on down there. Even if you think you’re doing okay, you’re probably absorbing a lot of damaging crap, and that’s hard on anyone.”
I should be sure to act vulnerable now. He’ll want to protect me. I don’t need it, but I want him to protect me. There’s no one else who’d even bother.
“My mom talks about Kayla like she always talked about me,” I offer. I haven’t told him much about my family. The truth is leverage, and I never give anyone that. But today the truth is a tool. “She calls her a whore and a slut. Says she doesn’t care what happens to her.”
“I’m sorry,” Luke says, and he means it. I’m glad he feels sorry for the little girl I used to be, because all I can do is hate her for her stupid softness. If Kayla is soft, I’ll hate her too, but there’s still a chance she’s something more. I’m getting hints of it but no proof.
“Were they . . . ?” He stops, then tries again. “Were they happy to see you? Or was there drama?” Luke knows all about drama, thanks to his mother. Only a damaged person would be attracted to someone like me, so I don’t mind.
She wasn’t mean or neglectful like my parents. Luke’s mom is mentally ill, though she refuses to admit it or get help. She was a whirlwind of intensity when he was growing up. Manic and obsessive and focusing all her energy on Luke and his brother. That’s why he likes my cool remove now. I’m a gentle breeze on burned skin.
“There wasn’t much drama,” I finally answer. “My mom just wanted money, of course. But my dad seemed sort of happy I dropped by. He told me I looked good.”
“That’s nice.”
I grin at the absurdity of that one passing comment making things okay. “I’m sure I’ll get my notice about the homecoming parade they’ve arranged any moment now.”
“Have you seen anyone else you know?”
“Just my jailbird brother.”
“Right,” he says on a chuckle, and I’m laughing too, thrilled that he sees the humor in it and I don’t have to hide my morbid giggles. It’s all so ridiculous.
“What’s your next step?” he asks. “Have you talked to the cops?”
“No. I can’t imagine I’ll bother. I know exactly what they think of troubled teenage girls. They can say she ran away, put her picture up on a website, and wash their hands of it. I’m checking out a couple of other leads tonight. If nothing pans out, this may be the end of it.”
“Be careful.”
“I will.”
“Call me again tonight?” I can tell by the purr in his voice that he wants more phone sex, and I’m sure I’ll be in the mood to give it to him, but better to leave him hanging for now.
“We’ll see.”
We sign off just as I pull up to the grocery store, which is doing its best to compete with Walmart by offering a drive-up pharmacy and “free cones for all kiddos!” I head right inside and serve myself a free cone before I wander the store to look for the assistant manager. If I discover he’s recently disappeared too, I’ll start to suspect my niece of murder.
That would be kind of fun, actually. A tiny little killer in my family. I’m just settling into the fantasy of that when I come to an open doorway and peer in to see a sandy-haired man behind a computer. “I’m looking for Frank,” I say.
He brightens up and stands quickly. “Hello! I’m Frank! What can I do for you?”
Crunching into my cone, I study him for a moment. Frank looks about thirty-eight, maybe forty. He’s got a little gut, but he has the healthy good looks of a guy who played a lot of sports in high school. He’s white and tan and still has a full head of hair, which he spends a little time on in the morning. But there are broken blood vessels in his nose. I’m thinking he drinks at least a six-pack every night. Anything to get through this life, am I right?
“You’re in charge of the soccer league around here?” I ask as Frank skirts his desk to come shake my hand.
“That’s right! You found me!”
“I’m so sorry to bother you at work. Is this okay?”
“Absolutely! Come on in!” He shakes with a good grip and his hand doesn’t linger. I smile up at him, but he just waves me toward a chair, not the least bit desperate for female attention. “The bosses don’t mind,” he assures me. “It’s good for the community. Good for the store.”
“Of course.”
“Looking to get your daughter into soccer?”
