Problem Child, page 24
He’s holding two bouquets of flowers and a stupid balloon that says “Welcome Home!” What an idiot. He spots me, his worried mouth flashing into a happy grin, and I feel it. I feel it. A tiny bubble of pure joy that rises up unexpectedly in my chest.
I’m relieved he’s here. I’m happy to see him. And it’s not even about sex.
“Jane!” he calls out, as if I weren’t looking straight at him. What an adorable dork.
Rushing toward us, he hands me a bouquet of gorgeous dark-red dahlias, and if that isn’t the perfect flower for me, I don’t know what is. Kayla, on the other hand, is handed a bouquet of brightly colored gerbera daisies, and I laugh in delight at the mismatch with her mean personality. She scowls down at her gift.
“Kayla, I’m Luke. It’s so great to finally meet you.”
“Yeah.” When I narrow my eyes in warning, she tries again. “Great! Hi, Uncle Luke!”
His smile twitches the tiniest bit, but he nods. “How was the trip?”
I shift my flowers to the other hand and put my arm around Kayla. “It was Kayla’s first plane ride.”
“Exciting!” he says cheerily.
“Yeah,” she responds. “Supercool.”
I turn her slightly toward the baggage area. “Kayla, why don’t you go wait for your bag. It’s baggage claim three.”
“Whatever you want, Auntie Jane.” She smacks her gum and flip-flops off toward the crowd.
Turning back to Luke, I raise my eyebrows high. “A balloon and everything?”
“Don’t make fun of me,” he scolds, but he’s grinning past his blush.
“Never.”
“It’s so good to see you.” And then he hugs me. A huge hug, pulling me tight into his arms, and for once I don’t pull immediately away.
I like taking care of shit, and I’m good at it. I like being in complete control. But it doesn’t hurt to know that someone could take care of me if I needed it, especially because I know I won’t need it.
He loves me. And I want to keep him, so maybe I truly love him too. After all, other people can be selfish and mean and do terrible things, and that doesn’t mean they can’t feel love.
Am I so different?
“She’s kind of a handful,” I say into his chest.
“It’s okay. You’ll figure it out.” Then he pulls back and looks down at me. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”
Together. I’ve never had that. Even when my best friend was alive, we both knew that any plans made could be broken up by the arrival of the right man, whether that was a cab ride home for a quick lay or a long-term relationship arriving to mess up a lease. But Luke says we’ll figure it out together, and we will.
I was running from that when I left. But now I want it. I want it all.
I want to look at houses with him, pretending I’m the nervous wife and he’s the strong husband. He’ll try not to laugh when I go on and on about all the baking I’ll do for our three kids. He’ll blush when I whisper that we need extra space for our “adult playroom” just to watch the real estate agent’s reaction. The game will be so much more fun with him than it would be alone.
I’ll leave our sullen teenager at home, don’t worry. She’ll get the house I choose for her, and I don’t need her selfish input.
Maybe it can all be fun. Maybe I can play my way through suburbia, carving out exactly the path I want to walk as I teach Kayla what she needs to learn. And maybe, just maybe, my sharp and shriveled heart will be enough.
CHAPTER 24
“Are you settled in?” I ask, standing in the doorway of Kayla’s new bedroom in my new house.
“I think I’ll survive,” she says flatly.
It’s our first night here, though we spent a little time hanging around the empty rooms this past week, planning out colors and furniture. She chose gray walls with purple accents, along with a matte-black four-poster bed that looks like it belongs in a modern high-rise apartment, especially with the white comforter and piles of accent pillows. I would’ve killed for a room like this at her age.
She’s put one thing up on the wall: a poster of Harley Quinn from some Batman movie. Her few moving boxes are still piled in a corner near the closet. I assume she’ll be living out of them for a while, because she hasn’t touched them in the three hours she’s been holed up in here.
It’s a small house, not in the suburbs after all, but in a nice part of the city with a great high school. I stroll over to look out her window, but there’s not much of a view this time of year. A fence shaded by the neighbor’s evergreen, but the maple trees are bare.
Her bedroom is near the kitchen, toward the front of the house. Our master bedroom, added in a renovation to the tiny 1940s home, is at the back of the house, well away from her prying eyes and ears.
The house is mine, though Luke is here too. We decided I should be the one to buy, since I’m the one with a family to raise. I’m not charging Luke rent or anything. He’s my boyfriend, after all. He considered renting out his condo in St. Paul, but in the end he sold it. I’m glad he did. I don’t like the idea of him having an easy out. I want him here.
I did keep him in mind when choosing my home. He really likes this neighborhood, and his brother’s house is only a five-minute drive away, so he can see his little niece anytime.
Don’t worry. I’ve made it absolutely clear that Kayla is not to be asked to babysit. That kind of trouble is the last thing I need. It’s been rough enough finally getting her settled into school. She accidentally tested into advanced math before she realized she should have thrown the test. Poor baby. She’s smarter than she wants to be.
She’s also really hating Spanish class, but the counselor insisted that a language is essential for those “on the college track.” Kayla fought it, but there she is in Spanish class anyway, being actively resentful. The instructor is a man, so I’ll have to keep an eye on things so it doesn’t go off the rails. Otherwise she’s in all the normal classes, though woodshop seems like it will turn out to be a mistake. I’d hate to see this girl around power tools.
Overall, the past month has been . . . dare I say nice? As if to support that characterization, my cat hops onto the windowsill in front of me and purrs, gazing out at the world beyond the glass along with me. She’s in cat heaven with empty boxes everywhere, so I think she’s enjoying the new family situation too.
I take a moment to scratch her chin before glancing back toward Kayla.
It has been nice. I’m sure of it. She plays along with my cozy relationship with Luke, sending me secret smiles when he’s turned away. She doesn’t give a damn about him, of course, but she’s mostly polite or at least tolerant.
Luke, on the other hand, is over-the-top friendly with her, like a friend’s dad from a sitcom. It’s funny to watch. He’s adorably eager and he’s doing his best. So am I, honestly, though I don’t have to try too hard. Kayla is fine. And she’s smart. And I’m a sociopath. I just don’t worry about much.
Work is going great, of course. I swooped back into town just in time to catch a few of Rob’s biggest dropped balls, and I became a feel-good story around the office! The partners are impressed. I haven’t even had to cut back my hours, because the new addition to my family is basically self-sufficient. This is the kind of parenting that management can believe in.
As of Friday, Kayla hasn’t started any fights at school or stolen anything that I know of, but her phone is already buzzing with texts from boys. I understand the excitement. It’s only smart for her to take advantage of being the new girl in town.
“I’m going over to Omar’s later,” she says. “We’re going to study.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Kayla. It’s Saturday night. Cut the bull.”
She stares for one full second before she breaks into a cold grin that makes me laugh. “Fine, we’re going to Netflix and chill.”
“Good Lord.” I roll my eyes. “You got your Depo shot. Just make sure not to catch anything that will kill you.”
“That’s an excellent plan, Aunt Jane,” she trills.
I drop onto her bed, setting her bouncing just a little. These foam mattresses aren’t as fun as the old springy ones. “I’ve told you that you don’t have to lie to me. Don’t you believe me yet?”
Shrugging, she keeps scrolling through something on her phone. “You’ve been cool so far.”
“I understand you,” I try again. It’s been over a month and we’ve only made a little progress. I need her to trust me or this won’t be exciting at all. It will just be a normal “My teenager is an asshole” relationship, and who the hell wants that?
I nudge her bare foot, the nails now painted purple. “We don’t have to keep things from each other that other people wouldn’t get. I know how you feel inside. I’ve been keeping those thoughts secret my whole life because no one else thought like I did.”
“Oh yeah?” She finally sets down her phone and meets my gaze. “Secrets like what?”
I should have anticipated this. Even normal humans expect tit for tat in trusting relationships, and Kayla and I are much more transactional than others. Now she’s presented me with a problem, and she knows exactly what she’s doing.
If I’m honest with her, she’ll have leverage. If I don’t make myself vulnerable, she won’t give me anything at all. It makes perfect sense, of course, and that makes me want her trust even more, the little monster. I decide to give a little.
“I got a man fired from my office recently.”
“Who?”
“A fellow lawyer.”
“You got him fired on purpose?”
“Yes. He kept taking credit for my hard work. And then he lied about me to a client because he’d dropped the ball on something.”
“How did you get him fired?”
“I logged into his work email and sent a sensitive document to the wrong people. They blamed him, of course, so he’s gone now. And I’m in charge of his cases.”
Her eyes crinkle into a real smile. “That’s cool.”
“It is cool, and he deserved it.”
“Fuck him,” she agrees.
“Thanks.”
“So . . .” She pulls her knees to her chest and points her purple toes. “You believe in revenge.”
“Absolutely.”
“Have you ever killed someone?”
I pause and think. She’s obviously still concerned that I’m grooming her for a Dexter-type situation, and luckily I can reassure her that I’m not. “No. I’ve never killed anyone.”
“Because you think it’s wrong.”
“Not really. I’ve explained that I’m not good at morality, right?”
“Sure.” She nods, but her mouth has gone flat again, closing up tight.
“Listen. I like my life the way it is, and I don’t want to risk going to prison for fifty years. I don’t think that killing is always wrong, but I am sure it will usually get you into trouble. Are you worried I’m going to kill you or something?”
“No.”
“Do you think I brought you here to train you to become the perfect assassin and unleash you on the world?”
“No, but cool job.”
“All right. Then if we’re talking about morality and honesty . . . sure, I’ve wanted to kill someone before. I came close to it, actually. There was a man who really deserved to die, and I wanted to kill him, but I didn’t. Because it didn’t make sense for me. It wasn’t smart.”
“How were you going to kill him?”
“Knife, gun, whatever. I didn’t care about the method. I had a couple of different opportunities, but I let them pass.”
She cocks her head. “If you didn’t kill him, what did you do to him instead?”
Aha. She does understand. I smile with pride at her perceptiveness. “What makes you think I didn’t let him go unmolested?”
“Why would you?”
This is exactly the certainty I’ve always felt in life and no one else seems able to comprehend. He was bad to me, so he had to pay. What else could I have done?
I wiggle my eyebrows. “I used some recordings to ruin his life and his family’s life. Sort of like you.” I tickle her foot and she giggles. “See, Kayla? We’re alike, you and I. I can help you. Before you get yourself into trouble, or even after, just come to me and I won’t judge you.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. So have fun with Omar and don’t get into trouble. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I pat her leg awkwardly and get up to leave, but her suddenly small voice stops me in my tracks.
“Did the police ever interview you about Little Dog?”
“No. I guess Nate didn’t rat me out after all. I never got an inquiry about my contact with him. Why?”
She shrugs.
“Have they been in touch with you?” I ask.
“No. I just wanted to be sure.”
Now I am frozen. The hairs on the back of my neck rise up. “Kayla? Why are you asking about Little Dog now?”
She shrugs, her fingers picking at some random thread on her new comforter. But I watch the corners of her mouth tighten, then turn up irresistibly. “Unlike you,” she says softly, “I have killed someone, Aunt Jane.”
“Oh?” I respond very carefully.
She can’t resist meeting my eyes. She’s too proud. “I heard him take that call with you. He thought I wasn’t listening, but I was.”
“Who?”
“Little Dog.”
My heart pauses for the briefest moment, startling me with a sensation I’ve never felt before. “Little Dog?”
“Yeah. Then he made another call. He was planning to drop me off somewhere. Meet with that bald guy and turn me over. A few minutes later he tiptoes into my room to wake me up. ‘Kayla, come on. We’re supposed to meet your aunt in Enid.’ You weren’t going to meet me in Enid, were you, Aunt Jane?”
I shake my head. “No. No, I wasn’t.”
“So I got in the car with him, asked him to pull over so I could pee . . .”
“In Jenks.”
“Yeah. We stopped in Jenks. I surprised him behind the car. You know what happened then. But he deserved it. You get it, right? He should never have tried to screw me over.”
“That’s true,” I agree, keeping my voice low and even.
She smiles. Flips her hair back. “You’re really not freaking out.”
“No,” I lie. “I’m glad you told me.”
“Oh my God, I’ve been dying to tell someone.”
“I bet.”
“I took care of myself. I planned it so I wouldn’t get caught. I even told him why I was doing it while he was curled up there crying like a baby. He couldn’t just screw me over that way. An eye for an eye. That’s even in the Bible. Fuck him.”
I nod as she preens. She’s flushed with the excitement of finally getting to boast.
“Thanks for being chill about it, Aunt Jane. I’ll let you know when I’m going out.”
“Okay. Thank you, Kayla.”
As I take a step away, she beams at me. “You were right. I like it here.”
“Good. I’m glad.” I walk out, checking to make sure my cat has followed me before I close the door to Kayla’s room.
The living room is only a few steps away. I join Luke on the couch, dropping down next to him to press my thigh against his. He set up the Wi-Fi first thing, and he’s already watching something on Netflix while he takes a break from unpacking.
“Everything good?” he asks.
I take his hand and squeeze it. Then I hold on tight. “Everything’s great. She seems fine.”
“I think she’s happy here,” Luke says so softly, I think he’s just saying it to himself.
My heart is calm now. My pulse steady. But my mind is churning with sharp spikes, turning over the past few weeks. I’m a sociopath. I don’t have regrets and I don’t have fear.
But there’s now a killer in my pretty new house. And I invited her here.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Victoria Helen Stone, formerly writing as USA Today bestselling novelist Victoria Dahl, is originally from the Midwest but now writes from an upstairs office high in the Wasatch Mountains of Utah. After a career in romance that included the American Library Association’s prestigious Reading List Award, she turned toward the darker side of fiction and has written the critically acclaimed novels Evelyn, After; Half Past; and False Step. Her Amazon Charts bestselling thriller Jane Doe has been optioned by Sony Television. For more on the author and her work, visit www.VictoriaHelenStone.com.
Stone, Victoria Helen, Problem Child
