The Latchkey Girls

by Leigh Irwin

  “Tom’s so great! I really think I could get to like him. It wouldn’t take much,” she said, trying to control her enthusiasm and failing miserably. I just laughed. We rehashed every detail of the evening into the wee hours of the morning.

  Before I knew it, Christmas break was upon us, and finals were over. So was soccer, at least for this year, and I was grateful. Too much drama on that team.

  However, the drama wasn’t over at home. Mom and Dad alternated between arguing and ignoring each other. They seemed to schedule their time away and their work schedules so they saw each other as little as possible. I made a point of hiding out in my room, especially when both of them crossed paths. I also spent a lot of time at James’ or Emma’s house.

  In the final days leading up to Christmas, Mom and I slipped back into our easy relationship. Dad was gone more than he was home, and we relaxed together, shopped for the perfect Christmas tree and decorated it “just so”. Decking the house for the holidays was our special tradition, one we’d shared every year since I could remember, and we always followed the same routine. We carefully unpacked and displayed my grandparents’ decorations, treasured and saved from years gone by. As we unwrapped each ornament, we exclaimed over it, remembering where each came from. We sipped hot chocolate and listened to Christmas carols; we admired our decorated house and tree. I wished things between Mom and me could always be that way. But wishing didn’t make it so.

  Of course, Mom, Dad and I couldn’t always avoid each other, and Christmas Eve was one of those occasions. I used to love Christmas Eve, but that year I almost wished we could skip it. Things at home were too unsettled. Emma’s family was coming over, plus James and Tom, so at least there would be a buffer zone between the three of us. I hoped Mom and Dad would be civil to each other. Dad got home just in time to shower before everyone arrived, looking tired but surprisingly happy for a change.

  Our dining room table was the perfect size for the eight of us. James and I sat across from each other, which gave me the perfect opportunity to appreciate the way the candlelight glinted off his hair and made his eyes look like dark jade pools.

  Trying for a festive mood, Mom and Pam suggested we trade family stories of Christmas’s past. Pam started. She told everyone about the year that Emma decided there was no such thing as Santa Claus. I watched a blush travel from Emma’s neck to her face, but her smile never wavered. Tom particularly enjoyed that tale, and it was very sweet. However, some of the stories were more embarrassing than entertaining, at least in my opinion.

  Dad gave a tediously long rendition about how I’d gotten into my gifts early one year, when I was about six years old. They’d been wrapped and set under the tree more than a week ahead of Christmas, for the first and last time ever, he emphasized. Everyone found it hilarious that I’d surreptitiously unwrapped each one to see what I was getting, and then tried to re-wrap them. I’d made a real mess of it, but Mom and Dad hadn’t noticed until we were opening presents on Christmas morning.

  “Sam, was it you or a mouse that got into these presents?” Dad had asked me sternly that morning, peering over the edge of his coffee mug. Dad always loved that story, and he still thought his mouse comment was hysterical. But what I remembered most clearly as a six-year old, was being terrified that I’d been caught snooping and wondering if they’d take away all my presents. I’d stared down at my hands like they were the real offenders, unable to say a word and about to cry. My pathetic rewrapping efforts, the paper wrinkled and torn, pasted together with gobs of tape, were suddenly so obvious. After what had seemed like hours but was probably less than a minute, Mom and Dad had burst into laughter, and Mom gathered me onto her lap for a hug.

  “You thought you were being so clever, didn’t you?” Dad asked me more than once during his drawn-out recitation. He enjoyed needling me, especially when he knew I was getting angry. That night, I refused to go along, but instead, sat impassively. When he finally ended the story, I plastered a smile on my face. My cheeks felt so tight, I wouldn’t have been surprised if they cracked.

  “Sure, Dad. I guess I never could fool you,” I said, returning his gaze with a challenge.

  Dad looked across the table to Mom, who looked uneasy. My hands were tingling from clenching them so tightly in my lap, and I knew my face was red. The conversational buzz around the table had suddenly died. After a few seconds, Mom broke the through the tense silence, popping up from her chair and asking who wanted whipped cream with their pie. I looked at her gratefully and the moment passed.

  After dinner, the kids took over the den, and the parents retreated to the living room. I heaved a sigh of relief that the evening was drawing to a close without a family meltdown, as I snuggled closer to James on the couch. Emma and Tom lay on their backs on the carpet next to each other, holding hands. Just before the guys left, I noticed James slip a small, gold box under the Christmas tree.

  Chapter 16

  That Christmas morning was nothing like the others. For one thing, there was a vastly increased number of presents, nearly all from Dad to Mom and me. Then Dad made breakfast for us, which was rare. I couldn’t even remember the last time he’d cooked anything. I ate uneasily, wondering what was going on. Was he trying to make amends, or did he have money none of us knew about? I tried to push the thoughts away.

  I saved my gift from James for last. Dad had teased me about it all morning, and I was tempted to leave it unopened until I was alone in my room. But curiosity got the better of me. I untied the white satin bow on the little gold box, and opened it to find… another box, this one black velvet.

  Immediately, Dad chortled, “I told you, Janet. The kid’s bought her an engagement ring!”

  “Daaad! Stop it, or I’ll leave! I’m not kidding,” I whined, mesmerized by the little box in a box.

  “So what do you have there, Sam?” Mom asked, all excited. I lifted out the velvet box and opened the lid. Inside, nestled in white satin, was a beautiful gold necklace. Dangling from the delicate chain was an intricately formed golden sun.

  “Let me see!” Mom said, and jumped up to inspect my gift. She took it from me and showed it to Dad, who nodded in approval.

  “Very nice. The boy’s got good taste,” he said. Mom helped me fasten it around my neck, and I ran to the bathroom to check myself out in the mirror. It was just right, not too showy, and I loved it.

  “Thanks for everything, Mom and Dad,” I said, gathering up my presents and stuffing wrapping paper and discarded boxes into a trash bag.

  I ran up the stairs to text James. I was still afraid he’d be disappointed with his present, but I didn’t want to give him anything too personal, not sure how serious we were. After all, we’d only been together for a few months. I settled on an oversized beach towel decorated with the silhouette of a surfer against a blaze of setting sun. The tiny towel he always brought to the beach was threadbare and torn.

  “Can U talk?” I texted. My phone rang in the next instant.

  “Merry Christmas, Sam. Have you opened my present yet?” James sounded as excited as a little kid.

  “Yep. And I just love it! I’ve got it on right now, and I’ll never take it off!” He laughed but sounded relieved.

  “Thanks for the new beach towel. I can’t say I’ll never take it off, but it’s something I really needed. I didn’t even realize it. From now on, every time I’m surfing or at the beach, I’ll have a reminder of you.”

  “Well, it could also be for both of us. One reason I got it is because it’s big enough for two. Your old one’s as small as a bath towel, not to mention all beat up. Maybe we could give that one a decent burial?” I teased. We talked a few minutes longer, before I heard his sister’s voice in the background.

  “Oops, gotta go. We’re going to my Aunt’s house in Pasadena for the rest of the day. Wanna get together tomorrow?”

  “Sure. Bye, and thanks again!” I said, fingering the little sun, warmed by the flush of happiness that spread through me.

&nb
sp; I hopped into the shower before I texted Emma, and I was just drying off when I heard angry voices downstairs.

  “You took even more money from them? Damn it, John, you promised me that bogus project was over! Haven’t you ever wondered who’s really been paying you all this time? Why would they pick you of all people? You’re just a regular pilot, not some fancy consultant. There has to be something else going on.” I crept out of my room toward the stairs, straining to hear.

  Dad said, “They’ve been completely professional all along. Besides, they liked my coaching manual so much that they’re implementing the program next year. This payment was just a bonus and a thank you,” Dad replied defensively.

  “Then why do you still have to keep meeting with them? What is it about you that’s so attractive? I can’t believe Chinese airlines don’t have their own expertise. Nothing about this smells right. And all that money you spent on presents this year…. Have you completely lost your mind?” Mom was suddenly shouting. I heard a loud slap. At first, I wasn’t sure who’d hit whom. This couldn’t be happening! Then, I heard Mom’s voice, now soft and apologetic.

  “I’m so sorry, John. I should never have done that. I’m just so scared,” Mom cried.

  “Janet, get a grip! You have to understand one thing. I don’t have a choice. How would it look if I suddenly refused to meet with them, especially after everything they’ve paid me? Just stop bitching about it. You’re driving me crazy!”

  I shuddered as I listened. Dad’s voice was so low and menacing that I barely recognized it. Mom was sobbing, practically hysterical. Paralyzed by fear, I stood at the head of the stairs until I heard Dad’s steps approaching. I bolted to my room and silently shut the door. I sat on my bed, shaking from head to foot, my wet hair slowly dripping onto my shoulders. I towel-dried it, threw on some clothes and texted Emma.

  “CJ is real.”

  Chapter 17

  Emma met me outside in the driveway, and we walked up the hill to the park. The day was still overcast and a little chilly. I shivered, but it was probably more from nerves than the cold.

  “Okay, so tell me exactly what that text meant,” she said, once we were halfway up our street. I relayed the whole story. She listened, eyes focused straight ahead as we walked. At the top of the hill, we crossed the park and found a bench. Just as we sat, the sun broke through the clouds, touching us with sudden warmth. I inhaled deeply and turned my face to the sky.

  “What am I gonna to do? This whole thing’s really spinning out of control. I’m sure Mom’s never hit him before, and a couple of weeks ago, Dad threw their wedding picture and broke the frame all to pieces. It’s getting worse every day!”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, but I’m really scared—for your safety. Whatever you do, don’t get in the middle of one of their fights!” She grabbed my arm and clung to it as she spoke. Then, still agitated, she jumped to her feet and gazed across the park, twisting her hair so tightly I was afraid she’d pull it out.

  I took several big breaths and watched a couple of squirrels chase each other across the grass. They scampered up a tree, chattering loudly, sending dry leaves cascading down as they raced through the branches.

  Emma turned back to me and slowly sat down. “The more I think about it, it seems your Mom’s got a valid point. Why would some huge Chinese airline be so interested in your dad, of all people? I also think it’s weird that the consulting job is supposed to be over, but he’s still meeting with them. On the other hand, so far, all he’s done is write a few harmless reports.” Emma rapidly tapped her heels in the grass below her feet as she spoke.

  “But then why are they paying him so much? He told Mom he’d paid off all our bills and there was still a bunch left over. It just seems too good to be true,” I said.

  My frustration suddenly got the better of me. “Why would Dad take money from some Chinese company in the first place? Can’t he see how it looks?” I was furious. “I swear, he’s such an idiot!” I screamed it as loudly as I could, scaring a couple of crows off a nearby tree. They flew away, cawing indignantly.

  “Sam, shut up!” Emma plastered a hand over my mouth and looked around us nervously. There wasn’t anyone in sight. “Just forget about how mad you are at your dad for one second! Please! We need to focus. We’ll never get anywhere if you can’t think straight.” She took her hand away slowly, watching me, a warning in her eyes.

  I took a shaky breath and stared across the grassy expanse while my heart rate slowed and the heat drained from my face. Then I leaned back and rested my head on the top of the bench. The sky above was a perfect blue, unmarred by even a trace of clouds.

  “What we really need is proof that something wrong or at least questionable is going on. But so far, there isn’t anything, except for whatever money he still has and those reports he’s been writing…. I wonder if he kept copies of any of them. If they’re really legit, then maybe they were worth all the money he got paid. And maybe it’s not as much of a problem as we think,” I said wistfully. An idea formed in my mind, and I sat up.

  “My savings account’s attached to my parents’ checking account online. They set it up that way a couple of years ago so they could deposit my allowance automatically each month. I almost never go online to look at my account, but I’m sure I still can.”

  I pulled my phone from my back pocket and brought up the bank’s website. I typed in my User ID and password, and my checking account balance appeared on the screen, all $76.37 of it. Below that was my parents’ checking account balance. My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw it: $368,900. I leaned over and dropped my head into my hands, feeling faint. Emma tugged on my arm, and my phone tumbled from my hand into the grass.

  “Sam! What is it? You’re freaking me out!” she exclaimed as she bent to pick up my phone. She glanced at the screen, and her face went pale. “Oh no! God! This can’t be right.” I fixed my eyes on her, more scared than I’d ever been in my entire life.

  “He better have written some pretty amazing reports for this kind of money,” I said softly.

  Chapter 18

  Emma pressed my phone back into my hands. They were shaking so hard that I nearly dropped it again. I hastily stuffed it back into my pocket.

  “Now what?” Emma asked, wide-eyed. Her lower lip trembled, and I saw a glint of tears in her eyes. I looked away, trying to hold myself together.

  “What if Dad can’t get out of whatever this is, because he’s gotten so much money already? Maybe now they expect him to do something really illegal, and he can’t turn them down. He did tell Mom that he was still meeting with them because he had to…” I shivered in spite of the sun’s warmth.

  “Umm, maybe we should just go to my parents right now. This is too complicated for us to mess with on our own,” Emma said softly. We lapsed into silence. Then I stood and faced Emma, too antsy to hold still.

  “On the other hand, what if those reports he’s been writing are much better than we think? Maybe they’re really valuable and worth all that money, although that is an awful lot of money…. But if the reports are really pathetic, that would be another sign that something’s wrong, especially combined with all that money. If that’s the case, I agree, this is too much for us to handle on our own. I don’t want to involve any parents just yet. We need more evidence than a large checking account balance. Maybe he kept copies, or he has something else.” I sought Emma’s eyes.

  “I’m really scared, Sam, but I see your point. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look around your house the next time your parents are both gone. There’s still another week before school starts, which is good. But I want this to be over as soon as possible—way before school starts. And even if we don’t find anything, and I mean after one thorough search, we go to my parents. Promise me, Sam!” Emma grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look her in the eye.

  “Okay, except I have just one more request.” I eyed Emma, wondering how she’d react. “Let’s tell my mom rather than your
parents.”

  “Why?” asked Emma.

  “I just hate to drag your parents into this mess if we don’t have to. At this point, I’d rather keep it to just my family. Of course, that would all change if we find out Mom is also in on all of this, but so far, I’m pretty sure she’s as confused as we are.”

  A shiver traveled down my spine as Emma and I stared at each other. Her face reflected the same feelings that had been overwhelming me for so long: fear, anger, sadness. After all, Dad had been like a second father to her.

  “Okay. But we’re still telling your mom if we find something. We can’t let this thing just sit,” she said.

  “Agreed,” I replied, nudging her with my shoulder.

  We walked home without saying anything more. I opened the front door reluctantly, with no idea what to expect. Mom was in the kitchen, and Dad had the TV on.

  “Sam, wash up and come help me finish dinner,” Mom called, as I climbed the stairs.

  “Okay. I’ll be right down.”

  Mom and I worked side by side, mostly silently. I set the dining room table with Mom’s best dishes, wishing I were anywhere but home.

  Christmas dinner went like I expected. Mom and Dad avoided looking at each other, and we ate in silence. I barely tasted the food on my plate. I cleared the table and did the dishes without anyone asking. We had dessert in the den, the excuse being that there was a Christmas special on TV, but the real reason was that we couldn’t stand to be in the same room together for any length of time. I did the dessert dishes and finally escaped to my room, where I could breathe again.

  Morning came and Dad was out playing golf. James rang the doorbell a little before 8:00, and I ran to get it, pulling the door open just as Mom came into the foyer, looking haggard and sad. She managed to smile and greet James and his little sister, Janie, but it was clear the effort cost her.