by Mary Strand
Or not. Dad was pretty undependable that way.
Alex sat next to me. “What’s wrong?”
“Sorry. I’m not perfect and I’m not—” I gulped, wincing at the comparison to Stephanie that leaped to my tongue. “I’m not whatever it is that Stephanie thinks she is.”
Alex grimaced. “You wouldn’t want to be like Stephanie.”
He didn’t adore Stephanie? At all?
Alex got all solemn, watching my face with those big brown eyes, making me wonder when he’d stopped reminding me of a toad. “Is it...one of your parents?”
“No.” I bit my lip, willing myself not to mention Lydia, but I finally sighed. “It’s Lydia. She’s in trouble.”
“Pregnant?”
“Why is that everyone’s first thought? No.” But knowing Lydia, I reconsidered. “Well, not that I know of. She got a job in Wisconsin Dells this summer, working with the circus troupe. But she got fired, and didn’t tell my parents, and hooked up with Justin Truesdale instead of coming home.”
Alex looked ready to explode. “What is she? Fifteen?”
I shook my head. “Sixteen, going into junior year of high school.”
Yikes. Was there any chance that Lydia wouldn’t be home soon, starting her junior year, instead of sitting in a jail cell somewhere?
Alex didn’t quiz me like I’d expected him to. He just waited. Patiently. Was he always like this? I realized I didn’t know what the real Alex Darcy was like and started to think I might like to find out.
But I had to catch the next flight home.
I couldn’t meet his gaze, so I stared at my bare feet. In my panic, I’d left my shoes in my room.
Alex looked down, too. “Nice toenails.”
I wiggled my toes, laughing at the rainbow of colors I’d painted my toenails on Friday, before I left to fly out here. Leave it to Alex to make me laugh right in the middle of a major trauma.
It gave me the nerve to catch his eye. “You might as well know. Justin got fired, too, and they both went to Milwaukee. My family first heard about it when Lydia called from the Milwaukee police station.”
I related the rest of Lydia’s sordid tale, glossing over the worst parts. But it was pretty bad. My sister the pole dancer and wannabe prostitute. I shook my head, wishing someone had locked up Lydia years ago.
“What’s being done?”
“Mom’s law partner is a criminal defense lawyer, and he went with my dad to Milwaukee. I don’t know if they’ll press charges. I mean, she’s only sixteen.”
Alex stood up and started pacing the polished marble floor, hands clasped behind his back. As I watched him, head down, deep in thought, I realized I liked him. He was unexpectedly sweet. He could even be funny—okay, not too often, but still. And I bet he had enough wicked in him to make up for the nice. Because I didn’t want a guy quite as nice as Charlie.
But it didn’t matter. Lydia hadn’t just messed up her own life. She’d helped mess up whatever chance I still had with Alex—after I ruined it myself in March.
Caught up in my self-absorption, I didn’t notice that Alex had stopped pacing and was standing right in front of me until he cleared his throat. I glanced up, brushing the smidgeon of wetness off my cheeks.
“I guess this means brunch is off.”
No kidding.
I offered him a wry, half-hearted smile, then stared at my toes again. “I didn’t even get to see your GTO.”
I didn’t even get to see your GTO?
“Yeah.” He didn’t say anything more until I looked up. “I won’t tell anyone, Liz. I know it sucks.”
He didn’t say “good-bye,” as in forever, but it was there. He stared hard at me one last time, then shot out of the lobby like someone was on his tail.
As I watched him go, I wished the circus hadn’t come to town. I wished I knew why Lydia always had to be such an idiot. I wished Alex still wanted me. Even just a little.
I wished I were back home. Like, now.
Aunt Molly ended her phone call, sat down beside me, and held my hand. I rested my head on her shoulder and cried the tears I’d been too embarrassed to let fall in front of Alex. Uncle Ed showed up, and ten minutes later we’d packed, checked out, and headed for the airport.
“I don’t understand.” Aunt Molly craned her head around the headrest to look at me. “Lydia is just a child. Perhaps it really was an accident. Is there any actual proof?”
I shook my head. “You sound like Jane, and even she can’t find the right euphemism for this one.”
Aunt Molly closed her eyes. “Lydia taking off her clothes in a strip joint. I don’t want to picture it.”
Uncle Ed looked like he was biting his lip to keep from laughing—until Aunt Molly swatted him.
She turned back to me. “No matter what you think of Lydia, I can’t imagine she, er, did what the police claim.”
I shrugged. “I can totally see Lydia doing it. This whole last year, she’s been heading for a train wreck. Mom and Dad let her get away with it.”
Aunt Molly paused, probably not eager to take my side against my parents. After all, Uncle Ed is Mom’s brother. “Why would Justin lure a sixteen-year-old to a strip joint?”
“Oh, I doubt he had to do much luring. Hand Lydia a beer, and she’s there. But I wouldn’t put it past Justin. He’s such a—” I paused, wishing I hadn’t fallen for it. “—player.”
Aunt Molly frowned. “A player?”
I felt my face flush. I didn’t have to define it for Aunt Molly, who knew the score, and I really didn’t want to say how I knew. “Yeah.”
Aunt Molly’s forehead wrinkled. “Did Lydia know?”
“No idea. If we tell Lydia anything, she uses it as an excuse to do something worse. But I begged Dad not to let Lydia go to Wisconsin Dells. I swear.”
Aunt Molly let the subject drop without any lectures, real or imagined. I felt bad enough already.
Soon, I was on a plane for home. I’d gotten one of my wishes. It just wasn’t the one I wanted most.
Chapter 20
“And now here’s Mr. Bennet gone away, and I know he will fight Wickham wherever he meets him, and then he will be killed, and what is to become of us all?”
— Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Volume III, Chapter Five
I grabbed a taxi at the airport and zipped home, where I found Cat staring sullenly out the living-room window and Mary pounding out dirges on the piano. Mom was still in her bedroom on a hunger strike. Whatever.
After dragging Jane up to our room, I threw my duffle on the bed and started tossing out clothes. “What’s the latest?”
Jane frowned. “Lydia is still in the detention facility. The judge was apparently afraid she’d skip town.”
I shrugged. “Smart judge.”
Shaking her head, Jane stared at the heap of clothes on my bed. Clean, dirty, all mixed together.
Seeing her face, I grinned. “I’m all unpacked. There goes my last excuse not to see Mom.”
We headed down the hall to Mom and Dad’s bedroom. The door was shut, but I could hear Billie Holiday wailing. The music snapped off the moment I knocked.
“Liz! You’re home!” Mom lay back against three pillows, in silky Japanese-style pajamas that looked good enough to wear outside, a few Atkins shakes on the bedstand beside her. “Did Jane tell you what that horrid Justin Truesdale did? And the Fletchers! They promised to keep my baby safe!”
I rolled my eyes. “I’d break that promise, too, if Lydia stripped for my husband. Jane says they gave her bus fare home.”
“But did they make sure she took the bus? Did they call me to admit what they’d done?”
I had to give her that one. “They should’ve called. Or at least called the police.”
“The police! Oh, those despicable creatures, claiming my poor, sweet Lydia could do the things they said.”
Jane held up a hand. “Even Lydia admitted stripping and pole dancing and lap dancing and—”
Mom waved
a hand in the air. “Lydia didn’t know what she was saying. She wouldn’t even know what those things are, let alone do them. She’s not that kind of girl.”
I glanced at Jane, who was looking out the window and obviously trying not to contradict Mom, even though Mom appeared to be suffering from lack of food.
Mom moaned. “Why hasn’t your father brought her home yet? School starts soon, and we need to shop for clothes.”
I opted not to point out that Lydia would be lucky if she didn’t spend junior year in stripes and behind bars.
Jane and I went downstairs, where Mary was making dinner. Mac and cheese with frozen peas. I came home early from a theoretically exotic vacation to a delusional mother and Mary’s cooking. The noodles mushed together into a gross orange glob, and the peas reminded me of bird shit.
I picked up the phone and called out for pizza.
After bitching about my ingratitude, Mary sighed. “If Lydia would’ve spent her time studying instead of on makeup and clothes and guys, she wouldn’t have landed in this mess.”
Cat coughed a nervous giggle into her hand. Jane just looked at me and lifted an eyebrow.
I blinked, trying not to stare at Mary’s geeky glasses and messy hair and the clothes she wore two sizes too large, just in case someone might think she had curves. Come to think of it, I had no idea whether she had any curves. Even Jane runs around in her undies once in a while. Not Mary. I haven’t seen skin above her elbows or knees since she was ten.
The doorbell soon rang, delivering pizza. I inhaled two slices, desperate to get out of the house. Mom was treating it like a mausoleum, Cat like a jail, and Mary like a pulpit for wayward girls.
I had only one option. I grabbed Jane’s hand, ran to the Prius, and told her to head for Dairy Queen.
As we drove toward Valley Creek Plaza, I gave her a sideways glance. The strain of herding Cat, Mary, and Mom without even Dad’s limited help was obviously killing her.
“Did you find out anything from the Fletchers, or is Bunny too pissed to speak to us?”
Jane stared straight ahead. “She’s embarrassed, actually, that she didn’t personally escort Lydia to the bus or at least call Mom and Dad. When everything happened with Justin, I think Bunny finally realized that Lydia is just a girl with problems. She thinks Lydia has self-esteem issues.”
I rolled my eyes. “Right. Her self-esteem is much higher than warranted.”
Jane shrugged. “You never know. Girls who brag like that, or hook up with every guy they meet, often think they’re no good. They figure they might as well do whatever.”
Until Jane got fixated on Charlie, hadn’t she tried to hook up with practically every guy she met? I mean, not in a Lydia way—until Charlie, she’d been too pure for it—but still. Didn’t she have self-esteem? I thought she was just looking for Mr. Right.
Thinking about Lydia, I felt the slightest dollop of guilt, and my stomach no longer rumbled for a Dilly Bar. “I’ve always called her a loser for all the crap she pulled.”
Jane flicked a glance in my direction. “It’s not your fault. Lydia has been out of control for quite a while, and the truth is that Mom encourages it, and Dad lets it happen.”
“What? A harsh assessment from our dear, sweet Jane?”
Jane took her right hand off the wheel long enough to swat me. “Not harsh. It’s just sad. If Lydia is like this in high school, what will she turn out to be?”
My stomach lurched. “I should’ve told Lydia about Justin. If she actually listened, this might not have happened.”
“I’m not so sure.” Jane bit her lip as she swung a wide turn into the Dairy Queen parking lot. “You know, The Book even warned us. I feel like such an idiot. In The Book—”
I snorted. “In The Book, Lydia never did any pole dancing, and Justin isn’t George Wickham.” Even if his actions kept skating closer to Wickham’s. “The Book isn’t our life.”
“Isn’t it?” Jane turned off the car but didn’t move.
“Actually, sometimes I wonder.” My stomach continued to churn, but I unbuckled and got out of the car. We went inside, where I got a cherry Dilly Bar and Jane a small vanilla cone. A wild night on the town.
For a minute or two, Jane nibbled at the edges of her cone and I chomped on my Dilly Bar, each of us lost in thought. If The Book was right, Lydia would soon marry Justin, and Jane and I would follow her to the altar. With Charlie and Alex.
Ha.
I shook my head. “I wish I knew what Dad was doing.” I thought of him as unflappable, almost to the point of not caring, but it might just be a coping mechanism. And totally inadequate to handle a mess like Lydia’s.
Jane finished her ice cream and started munching on the cone. “When Lydia called, she actually wanted to talk to Dad. As soon as he got off the phone, he called Phil, who was here in ten minutes, already packed. How do men do that?”
“They must keep an overnight bag packed, just waiting for an emergency.” I shrugged. “And Mom uses emergencies as an excuse to go on a diet. Do you think it’s so she’ll look good at Lydia’s wedding?”
Jane gave me the evil eye, although it came with a twinkle. “I missed your snarky comments. I had to, well, hold it all together. Alone. Thanks for coming home.”
“Anything for you.” Besides, my last chance at Alex pretty much ended when he heard the news about Lydia. “You look exhausted. Dad’s gone and Mom’s twisted in a knot. I’m sorry you had to handle it by yourself.”
“You would’ve done the same thing, but you would’ve managed to find some humor in it. I couldn’t.” She took a last bite of her cone, touched her napkin to her mouth, and neatly folded the napkin in squares. “What do Aunt Molly and Uncle Ed think of all this?”
“She asked a lot of questions, but I bet they had their real discussion after they dropped me at the airport.” I finished my Dilly and took my time licking the stick. Finally, I eyed Jane speculatively. “But don’t you want to ask about Charlie, like if he’s as cute as ever?”
Jane glanced down at her hands, clasped tightly together. “I’m not sure I want to hear the answer.”
“Oh, Jane.” I waited for her to look at me. I’d never finished my conversation with Charlie, and I needed to have a serious one with Jane, but at this point I didn’t wonder about Charlie anymore. I wondered about Jane. “Charlie is the same as he always was.”
Jane smiled faintly. “Good. That makes one of us.”
Monday dawned without news. Dad had a cell phone, but did he ever use it? We all grumbled, but Dad was Dad. Even Lydia wasn’t changing his standard operating procedure.
Fall classes hadn’t started yet, so Jane and I hung around the house. So did Mom, unfortunately, which meant her secretary had to cancel a full day of appointments, but Mom mostly stayed in her room. From the smell of it, she hadn’t opened a window, and she kept wearing the same silk pj’s. Cute, but heading toward toxic.
While Mom hid upstairs, I found pictures of Lydia pole dancing at the strip joint plastered all over the Internet. Despite the child pornography laws that should’ve taken them down, Lydia had boobs, all right, and now the whole world knew. Her abs, however, weren’t as tight as I’d want mine to be if I appeared naked for an audience larger than one.
Somehow, that made me think of Alex, which was the only way he was making an appearance in my life. In my dreams.
I kept leaving messages on Dad’s cell phone. Finally, just before dinner, he texted me: “Home tomorrow.” That’s it. That’s my dad.
Mom went into a tizzy.
“Is he bringing Lydia? He can’t come home without her. What a cruel man to leave his daughter behind in the cesspools of Milwaukee!”
I just left her room and shut the door.
I didn’t sleep a wink that night, but I couldn’t blame it on Dad being gone or Mom being deranged. I hadn’t heard a peep from Alex, either. Alex, who acted so sweet and understanding after I heard the news about Lydia. Alex, who might be hooking up with Stephan
ie. Right this moment.
I wish I’d never met him. I might get a decent night’s sleep.
Dad arrived late the next morning. Without Lydia.
I grabbed the chair next to him in the living room, the two of us left alone even by Mom, who must’ve decided to stay in her room until Lydia came home. By the look on Dad’s face, Mom might want to rethink that.
Dad puffed on a fat cigar, seemingly oblivious to me.
I drew a quick breath. “Sorry about your trip, Dad.”
He glanced at me through a haze of smoke. “It’s my fault she ended up where she did. I could’ve stopped her, and I didn’t.”
“It’s not your fault.” Even as I said it, I knew I didn’t mean it. Dad was partly to blame. Mom had a big share, too, and Lydia more than a dollop.
Cat walked in just then, plunking herself at Dad’s feet the way she used to years ago. “Where’s Lydia?”
“It’s a long story, and unfinished at the moment. Phil is still in Milwaukee. Another hearing is scheduled for tomorrow, and he’ll attend on our behalf.” Dad turned to me and sighed. “I’m sorry, Lizzie. You were right about Wisconsin Dells and I was wrong.”
Cat frowned. “If I ever go to Wisconsin Dells or some other cool place, I won’t get into trouble like Lydia.”
“Wisconsin Dells? You’ll be lucky to go to downtown Woodbury. And no dating or drinking or other crazy activities. Learn to study like Mary. That’s the ticket.”
Cat leaped to her feet and ran sobbing from the room.
I shook my head, wondering if I should remind Cat that once she turned eighteen, she could do whatever she wanted.
Subject to hitting up Dad for money, of course.
Wednesday, Mom finally went back to work. I think a snotty call from Phil might’ve done the trick.
That evening, Mary came running upstairs, breathless. “Dad got an email from Phil. But he deleted it before I could read it, then went outside.”
Jane and I took one look at each other and raced down the stairs and out the front door, leaving Mary in our dust.
