“This is Parker, my little muffin.” Chas places him in my arms, and I let a tear slide down my cheek. “This is your aunt, Caity. She’s a bitch, but we love her.”
Parker fusses in my arms and starts to cry again, so I hand him back to Chas. “He doesn’t seem to like me.”
“He’s just cranky. We didn’t get much sleep last night, did we?” She stuffs a pacifier in Parker’s mouth and sways back and forth to calm him. “Are you going to let us in, or are you going to make us sit out here on your porch?”
I step aside and Chas walks inside, dragging the stroller along behind her. She has the mommy multi-tasking thing down.
“So, before we get all giggly and ‘oh I’m so glad you’re here,’ I think we have a few things we need to discuss.” She places Parker back in his stroller and sits on the couch. He begins to fuss again and she gently rocks the stroller back and forth with her toe.
I shrug and sit in the recliner across from her. “I know I’m a bad friend.”
“Yeah,” she says, “you are. I told you that guy was bad for you. The moment I met him, I knew he was a major douche. What the hell were you thinking?”
I lean my head on the back of the recliner and stare at the ceiling. I already know that Jonah was bad for me. I know I should have listened to Chas when she told me to get rid of him. I’d taken her home with me for a week after the last time I visited. I wanted her to meet Jonah and my friends from home. I wanted her to have a taste of city life. She hated Jonah the minute she met him, and harped on me the entire week about him.
“I don’t know. If I could go back and change everything, I would. I don’t know what happened to me. It’s like I became this … thing … I ruined so many people’s lives. I hurt Trevor, and you and Jeb broke up because of me, and then I took you to that party and left you there with that guy … and my mom … ” My voices catches and I stop myself from going on, afraid of totally losing it.
“First of all, not all of it was your fault. Jeb and I had been fighting for months. We didn’t break up because of you, or what happened between you and Trevor. Secondly, you didn’t make me sleep with Scott. I did it because I wanted to know I could be with someone other than Jeb. He was the only guy I’d ever dated, and I wanted to prove to myself I could move on if I wanted to. That was my bad decision, not yours. I won’t let you take all of the blame. What I was the most pissed about was how reckless you’d become. And the drugs. Seriously? I really did want to drive to Tacoma and kick your ass when I found out you were in rehab. You know that, right?”
“It was stupid. I know.” It’s all I can say. I know she would never believe me if I told her why I started using in the first place—and why I still need to. That the Klonopin I pop helps keep me calm and prevents me from inadvertently hurting people.
“It was beyond stupid. You know what addiction did to my family. My dad’s in prison, and who knows where my mom is. Probably shacked up in some meth den in Boise.”
“I wasn’t using meth—”
“It doesn’t matter. All I’m saying is if I catch you using again I will kick your ass all the way back to rehab. Understood?” The look on her face tells me she’s not even kind of joking.
“I’m fine. Really. I have no intention of doing that ever again.” It’s a small lie. I do plan to try. I just hope I can keep whatever is inside of me at bay without it.
She walks over, climbs into the oversized recliner next to me, and puts her arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
I choke back a sob and grab her hand. “Thanks.”
“Are you okay?” she asks, wiping a tear from my face.
“I don’t know. I miss her. It just doesn’t make sense, you know? Sometimes I think maybe the hospital will call and tell me there was a mistake, that she didn’t die, that she’s just in a coma or something.” I take a deep shuddering breath. “I can’t believe I have to live here. How do you handle it? I mean, there’s nothing to do, and everyone knows your business.”
Chas shrugs. “It’s not so bad. Then again, I’ve lived here since I was seven. It’s the only place that ever really felt like home to me. I just kind of do my own thing and don’t worry about what the bitches of this town think of me. I know that one day I’ll get out of here and go to college and start a new life for myself. It’s only two more years. It’s not like it’s forever. For now, this is all I got. I just gotta make the most of it, ya know?”
“Well, I’ll be counting down the days with you, girlfriend,” I say, patting her on the leg.
“When I was little, I used to dream that you and Trevor and Jeb and I would all grow up, and the four of us would go off to college together and live these happy, perfect suburban lives like on TV.” She pats me on the leg and lays her head on my shoulder. “It sucks that your mom is dead, and it sucks that you have to spend the next two years of your life in this butthole of a town, but you know what? I’m happy you’re here. Maybe I’m a selfish bitch, but I need you, Cait. And I know you need me. We’ll get through this. We will.”
“Yeah. We will.”
She gives me a quick squeeze. “It might be kind of fun, having you at school with me. We can terrorize Monique together.”
Ugh. A new school and Monique. Those are two things I do not want to think about facing right now.
She wraps her arms around my neck and gives me a huge kiss on the cheek before hopping out of the chair. “Okay, now that all of that mushy shit is out of the way, let’s go raid your closet.”
“Why?”
“Because, cowgirl, we’re gonna get all pertied up in your designer duds and go to that there Harvest Festival. I’m gonna show you a bonafide, chicken-fried, countryfied good time tonight, doll face.”
Chapter Four
When we make it to the town square, the entire park pulses with country music and laughter. The smell of grilled hamburgers and hot dogs floats through the air. Kids run and play, chasing each other with balloons twisted into animal shapes. A few couples dance on the stage to the live band playing old country songs, while a group of elderly people sit off to the side playing bingo. The sun has started to set and casts a warm glow over us. Even the falls tumbling over the distant mountain appear color-coordinated with Judy’s color scheme. The evening sun gives them an orange hue, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she’d arranged it herself. Surprisingly enough, the ground is barely wet after last night’s storms, most of the water relegated to the creeks along the country roads.
I have to admit, Chastity and I look especially hot tonight, even though we are a little out of place in my designer duds. I wear a fitted, long-sleeve white V-neck T-shirt with jeans and a pair of knee-high brown riding boots. Chas borrowed a jade-green cowl-neck sweater and paired it with a tattered jean skirt and my favorite pair of Louboutin heels. The sweater totally makes her eyes pop. She looks fierce.
“Dude, we totally look like Buffy and Faith,” she says, referring to one of her favorite TV shows. She lives for Buffy the Vampire Slayer. “But you’re the good Faith, ya know, before she turned all back-stabby and stuff.”
This isn’t the first time someone has compared me to Eliza Dushku. One of the girls in rehab was convinced I was her, and eventually had to be moved to another floor because she kept harassing me.
Chas and I skirt the outside of the crowd. I try not to notice the people staring at me. I’ve no doubt that Judy has filled all of them in on my stint in rehab, and I’m sure a majority of them have torches and pitchforks waiting in their trucks to run me out of town should I get out of hand. I try to fold into the crowd and not meet anyone’s gaze.
“There’s my little pumpkin.” Chas’s Aunt Bunny skitters over to us in a pair of red heels that could double as a pair of circus stilts. Her hair is teased to high heaven and her boobs are dangerously close to popping out of her tight, leopard-print shirt. She looks totally out of place among the other, more conservatively dressed women, but she d
oesn’t seem to mind.
“Caity baby, how are you?” She pulls me in for a hug, and I have to turn my face so I’m not suffocated by her cleavage. “I’m so sorry about your mama.”
“Thanks, Bunny.”
“Why don’t you let me take him,” Bunny says, taking the stroller from Chas. “My feet are killing me and you girls need to go have fun with your friends.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Chas says. “He’s my responsibility.”
“Nonsense. I insist. This little guy’s gonna be my date, aren’t you?” Bunny peeks in at Parker and he grins a big, toothless smile that eats his entire face. “I’m not planning on staying much longer. I’ll take him home and put him to bed. You and Cait stay out as long as you want. Have fun.”
“I’ve missed Bunny,” I say as we watch her waddle away, pushing the stroller through waves of unsuspecting townsfolk.
“I don’t know what I would do without her. She and Parker are all I have.” Chas rarely gets sentimental, but her family is a sore spot for her. Both of her parents were drug addicts, and when the state removed Chas from their home when she was seven, Bunny took custody of her and has taken care of her ever since.
“You’ve got me,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “So, what do we actually do at a harvest festival? I refuse to bob for apples because it will ruin my makeup, and I am not doing any kind of eating contest.”
“Erin! Over here.” I turn to see who Chas is waving to and see a short girl with auburn hair and big hazel eyes pushing through the crowd in our direction.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Monique and Sophie have been giving me the stink eye all night. I need backup. Hi, I’m Erin.” She holds out her hand and offers me a friendly smile. “You must be Cait. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Erin is new here and a recent inductee into the ‘I hate Monique Carter’ club. She’s good people.” Chas puts her arm around Erin’s shoulders and gives her a squeeze. “What do you say we go get something to eat? I’m starving.”
The three of us push through the crowd toward the barbecue pit. As we walk along a row of picnic tables, I notice Mason perched atop one of them, his eyes darting over the crowd. His skin isn’t as deathly pale as it was last night, but he still looks sickly. His eyes meet mine, and the same grotesque smile I’d seen in the mirror before he attacked me spreads across his face. Dread washes over me, and I suddenly want to be anywhere but here. A shiver runs down my spine and an electric tingling washes over my skin. I’m so caught up in my unease that I don’t even notice the extension cord snaking through the grass toward the stage. The next thing I know, I’m falling very ungracefully toward the ground.
“Somebody call the rehab police, Caitlyn’s high again.” Monique’s high-pitched giggle carries across the park as someone grabs me under the arm and helps me to my feet.
“You okay?” Jeb asks as he helps me stand. I can tell he wants to laugh, but he’s too polite to do so.
“I’m fine. I didn’t see that cord.” I do my best to keep my eyes trained on his face. Out of the corner of my eye I see Trevor sitting on the bench next to Monique, and I don’t want to look at either of them.
“Hey, Cait. You better be careful. We have drug-sniffing dogs around here.” Monique folds her arms across her non-existent chest and smirks at me.
I glare at her over Jeb’s shoulder. He places a hand on my arm, fully aware that I’m doing my best to not walk over and punch her in the face. Monique sits smugly, throwing a pale arm over Trevor’s shoulders. She has her fuzzy, red hair pulled back in a head band, and she wears about a pound of makeup. Her green halter dress rides up her thigh. I’m sure her father, the Reverend, would be proud to see her dressed like this. She looks like a really bad drag queen. If I didn’t hate her so much, I might feel bad about her horrid sense of style.
“I can’t believe you actually had a thing for that nasty skank,” Monique says to Trevor. He looks away and mumbles something I can’t hear.
“Does anyone have a Taser I can use to shut this bitch up?” As usual, Chas flies in for the defense, more than happy to put Monique in her place. Jeb starts to laugh, and then I do, and pretty soon everyone is chuckling. Everyone except Monique.
She approaches Chas, and puts her finger in her chest, something even I wouldn’t do. I notice Chas’s hands clench against her sides.
“You, of all people, do not get to speak to me like that. Is that clear?” If there’s one thing Monique can’t stand, it’s being one-upped by someone she feels is beneath her.
A smile teases the edge of Chas’s mouth. Her eyes narrow ever so slightly as she stares Monique down. “But I did speak to you like that, and I’ll keep speaking to you like that so long as you keep dissing my friends. Is that clear?”
Monique crosses her arms across her chest and pops her hip. “Where’s that bastard child of yours? Shouldn’t you be taking care of him?”
Chas’s face heats up and turns red. I can practically see lava pouring out of her ears.
“I’m pretty sure there’s a stripper pole in Coeur d’Alene with your name on it,” Monique says, a smirk teasing her overly glossed lips. “You should probably get on that if you plan to support him.”
Chas raises her fist. I know I should probably stop her, but I really want to see her knock Monique on her ass.
Before I can make myself step forward, Trevor steps between the two of them, placing a hand on Chas’s arm. “Let it go. It’s not worth it,” he says. “You don’t need to be kicked out of school because of her.”
Chas takes a ragged breath as she steps backward, tears welling in her eyes.
“Come on. Let’s go get some food,” Erin says, tugging on Chas’s hand.
“You picked some great friends, Simpson,” Monique says as we start to walk off.
“Whatever, Monique,” Erin says as she rolls her eyes. “By the way, Little Orphan Annie called. She wants her hair back.”
Both Chas and I burst out laughing at Erin’s perfect slam, but the laughter is cut short when Monique lunges at Erin, pushing her to the ground. My hand shoots out instinctively and grabs Monique by the front of her dress and slams her to the picnic table. Her ass hits the old wooden boards so hard I’m surprised the bench doesn’t break.
I place an arm on each side of Monique and lean in close. “Stop. Do you hear me? Stop with the bitchiness. Stop with the bullying. We get it. You’re the queen of Highland Falls. No one wants your crown. Just lay off.” My voice shakes with the effort it takes to force myself to stay calm and rational. Eight years of pent-up frustrations with this girl push at me and I want nothing more than to rip every last hair out of her head.
“You may not want my crown, but you sure wanted my boyfriend,” she spits. Her bottom lip trembles and her nostrils flare.
“Last I heard, he’s no longer your boyfriend,” I say.
“Thanks to you.”
I turn to walk away, but she grabs me by the arm and spins me around. “Let me make one thing clear, you little Lindsay Lohan wannabe. You are not welcome here. You never have been and you never will be.” She leans in close and whispers so only I can hear. “I’m going to make your life hell.”
I smile and wrap my arms around her, giving her a hug. Her body stiffens beneath my arms and I whisper into her ear, “Bring it, bitch. I’ve dealt with much worse than you.” I lean in and grab her face, planting a huge kiss on her shiny lips before turning to walk away.
“Did you see that? She kissed me. She’s a lesbian.” She stands in shock, wiping an arm across her lips like I’d just poisoned her.
Everyone around us stares at me, and I push past them, ready to leave all of this behind, but then Monique takes one more jab. “I hear your mother looked really pretty at her funeral. How’d they cover up that bullet hole anyway?”
Blind, burning rage clouds my eyes, and the self-control I’d managed to hang on to earlier flies into the n
ight. I push her to the ground, grabbing a handful of her Brillo-Pad hair in my fist. All of the commotion has drawn a crowd, and several people step in. Hands grab at me, trying to pull me off of her, but I shrug them away. A strong set of arms grab me around the waist and pull me back. I turn to face Trevor. Jeb stands behind him, a hand over his mouth to mask his laughter. I’m glad someone enjoyed the show.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Trevor is obviously furious. He places two strong hands on my shoulders when I try to push past him, grounding me in place. “Cait, stop.”
Hot tears stream down my face, part out of anger from what Monique had said, and part from the betrayal I feel that Trevor is protecting her. “You’re seriously going to stick up for her?”
“I’m not sticking up for anyone. This is ridiculous. You know how she is. Why don’t you just stay away from her?”
“I didn’t exactly walk over here with the intention of talking to her,” I point out. “She started it.”
Monique sits at the picnic table, wailing like I’d just ripped off her arm. I see her father push through the crowd and sit beside her. She’s all snot and sobs as she incoherently tries to tell him how I attacked her for no reason. As my temper cools and I regain my focus, I’m suddenly aware that at least twenty people stand around us, all of their eyes on me. So much for keeping a low profile.
“Caitlyn Foster, what is wrong with you?” The voice of my grandmother carries over the murmuring crowd and lands on my ears like a dog whistle. Bring on the lecture. She pushes past Trevor and grabs me by the arm before walking me across the park. “You’ve been in town less than twenty-four hours and already you’re causing trouble.”
She says this like that’s all I’m capable of. Caitlyn Foster, ultimate delinquent and creator of the Highland Falls Ultimate Smack-down. I stare at the ground, unable to look her in the eye.
“Look at me, young lady,” she says, forcefully. “I will not have you acting like a heathen. Do you have any idea what people are going to say? I am the mayor of this town, and I expect my family to act with dignity and class. Do you understand?”
Fingers in the Mist Page 4
