“Dismissed, huh?” He stood up, mocking hurt. Lizzie’s comment stung, but Nev’s burned. What the hell? “Thank you very much. I’ll take my big man ass to the boy’s room while you princesses occupy the suite.”
“We already have our little Prince.” Lizzie smiled down at sleeping Saj.
“Well, you enjoy his affections, ladies. I’m outta here.”
He closed the door and returned to the living room. Spike had left his comfortable perch. Zach spied him hunkered down in the darkest part of the room. “‘sup Dogman?” There was no response.
Zach crossed to the big man. Something stunk. “Dammit, Spike.” He grasped Spike’s arm and pulled him across to the mess on the loveseat, then walked him the ten or so feet to the bathroom. When Gramps died he had thought he was done being a nurse.
“This,” he picked up the blanket, “goes in the toilet.” He flipped the light switch and dumped what he could into the bowl and flushed it. “Sit and shit,” he growled.
Spike’s arms flew over his head, wounded eyes stared at Zach. Now I scared him. “God help me.” He pulled his own pants down and sat on the toilet, miming the activity and adding grunts for effect.
The girls had definitely gotten the better end of the stick tonight.
Once Zach got Spike’s mess cleaned up he went to bed. But sleep was not in the cards. Zach lay there awake, restless. Yards away in a bed together were the two girls he had been in love with, girls who thought of him as a little brother. It’s not fair. But life never is. It could be worse. I could be alone. That held little comfort as he pulled the covers up around himself.
Zach still hadn’t cried. He tried to release himself to tears. I should be sad. Or I should be happy or angry. I should feel something, dammit! And still he lay there unable to sleep, unable to cry, unable to take the steps into the other room and ask for comfort, companionship.
The sun’s heat through the greenhouse glass steamed the dirt. Lizzie dripped sweat. She threw the weeds aside with a growl. Spike ducked and scuttled out of the way. “At least you could help instead of staring at me with those puppy-dog eyes.” His head cocked at an angle, very dog-like, and he watched her warily.
She had agreed to help out at Joe’s Garden while Nev and Zach went to the gathering, so she wouldn’t be seen if C.J.’s brother came. Nevaeh offered to take Saj, and Lizzie thought it would be some quiet time away from everyone. She hadn’t realized her break was babysitting Spike while working her ass off at a business. She remembered hearing about the Joe’s Garden franchise before everyone got sick, but her family could never afford the fresh veggies. Some black beetles in the compost pile distracted him.
“Hey, Spike?”
He glanced up at the sound of his name and shambled over.
She shook off a skinny little carrot and scrubbed it on her pant leg. It was sweet and crunchy. She offered one to Spike. He took a bite and then another. “Maybe you could dig up a row yourself and then I could shake off the weeds and keep the carrots.” His head cocked again. “Come on, Spike.”
Standing over the furrow, she motioned digging up the carrots. She tugged him gently into place and helped his hands go into the dirt. Then she moved slightly further on and made a flurry of digging. She spun to watch Spike. “Come on. I know you’re not a dog, but please?” She patted her thighs. “Spike, dig!”
He dug his hands in and tossed the dirt backward, weeds and carrots and all. Lizzie cheered. Spike grinned. He did a few more feet. She clapped her hands together. “Go, Spike, go.” He went. She followed along, shaking the carrots off to one side and kicking the weeds to the other.
Lizzie was thirsty, so she carried an armful of carrots to the table by the door and poured herself a cup of water. She pulled off her winter jacket and refilled the water cup, wondering if Spike had the sense that God gave dogs to know he was thirsty too. “Spike, you thirsty?”
She slapped some lunch meat and bread together; handed the water cup to Spike and bit into her sandwich. She made another for Spike.
He scarfed it down happily and loudly. She rubbed his head since he was squatting; if he stood straight up she’d be lucky to touch his shoulder.
Lizzie steamed inside, too. Why did Zach want to go hang out with the hippies? Settling in with even more people was the last thing she wanted. But what if Nev and Zach both wanted to join the stupid little commune? She and Saj and Spike could stay at the lake. Why can’t I stand to be with people—or alone? She took a deep breath.
The heat and scent of the fertile earth comforted her somehow. She’d never had a green thumb, but then again she’d never really had any opportunity. She randomly pulled up leafy things, finding radishes, but sometimes just leaves, colored and green. Zach would probably know what to do with them. She ate the radish, zingy, but not too hot, and went back for another. She placed the rest of the plants by the door.
Vern had said to harvest a row of carrots and then weed the additional rows. She knew Spike couldn’t get the hang of weeding and Lizzie was tired of the carrots. Vern would have to deal with it. She pulled Spike away and headed him for the door. She grabbed her jacket and put it on as the cold outside the greenhouse doors hit her sweaty skin.
It would be a good idea to get Spike to go to the bathroom. She was glad Saj used diapers. She took him up to the nearest house in the stupid, generic neighborhood.
Lizzie helped Spike get his pants down and sit on the toilet. Nothing happened. “Don’t worry Spike, you’ll get there.” He sat. After a wait, she took him back outside.
“Let’s case some of the houses, Spike. Whattaya think?”
Spike looked eager to move. “Go, Spike. You pick which direction. Go.” He shuffled off behind the next house, more monkey than dog-like. Can we teach him? How much can he learn?
She sighed and sucked in air; it stung her lungs, but the cold seemed to temper the level of the stench from the dead and dying.
A low growl came from around the house. Lizzie ran and found Spike facing down a Doberman guarding a spilled garbage can. “Spike. Come.” The Doberman was ready to strike. “Spike. Now.” He backed away from the dog until he was next to her.
“Good job, Spike.” Lizzie patted his back as she pulled him. The Doberman took a step past the spilled garbage. “Stay,” Lizzie said in her lowest tone and took another step back, still standing up straight and glaring at the dog. The Doberman growled, but made no move.
They backed further away. The Doberman would let them be if they didn’t mess with his lunch. He didn’t see them as lunch yet. A couple mutts rounded the corner. They spied the Doberman and he spun to defend his treasure from the new interlopers. They circled snapping, each of them grabbing some of the garbage, barking and posturing at the others. The former pets had not figured out their pack hierarchy. Lizzie could see that as food got scarce, they needed to be more careful around man’s best friends.
She tugged Spike back, his muscles tense, ready to spring. His wild eyes darted, nervous, trying to see in all directions. They got back to the greenhouse without the dogs following them, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
How soon are Zach and Nev coming back? She pulled out her cell to check the time and send a text. Missed call flashed in red. The Texas number. Her breath sucked in.
Oh, my god. Daddy? Or was it someone who lived in the house with him? She slid the screen to voicemail. A new envelope flashed with the number on it. Her hands shook as she tried to access the call. “Oh, my god, oh my god.” It played; she shoved the phone to her ear.
A male voice said. “Lizzie?” Then a pause. “Elizabeth. It’s...It’s Mannie, uh, Manuel, your father. Sorry I missed you. I’m glad you’re alive. I...” Daddy? A jolt shot through her body. You’re alive. She had always assumed he was dead. He should’ve been dead. Where had he been on her birthdays? On her first days of school? On the day she needed someone to teach her to drive... “Call me, please.” He ended the message with a sigh.
“Fuck you!” She hurle
d the phone. It landed in the grass. She ran to pick it up and texted Zach. Need you now. She slid the phone back to voice mail and listened to the call again, sitting in the cold grass. Spike slid down next to her. His head nudged at her side.
“What the hell am I supposed to do?” she asked Spike. He stared at her with sad eyes.
She scrolled through other messages, back to the last one from her mom. She listened to it, but it only intensified her pain. “Mama. What do I do? You taught me to hate him. Or at least forget him. I created a better him in my mind.” Her lungs fought for air; she was hyperventilating.
She heard the low rumble of vehicle before she saw it. The Tank slid to a stop when Zach saw her. He jumped out, leaving the door open and the vehicle running. He ran over. Nev was only steps behind him.
Zach knelt by her, pulling her toward him. “What the hell’s wrong? We saw C.J.’s brother at the gathering, I think.”
Nev nodded. “Then he disappeared. We thought he’d found you. Are you hurt? Show me.”
Lizzie shook her head, but she couldn’t speak. She tugged at Zach’s shirt and sobbed into it.
“Lizzie, Lizzie. What is it?” Nev begged.
In between breaths Lizzie managed to spit out, “My dad called. My dad’s alive.”
Zach pushed her back, but didn’t let her go. “Your dad’s alive? And that’s an emergency?”
Lizzie wouldn’t meet his eyes. She pulled away from him. God, he could be an ass sometimes.
“Zach, come on.” Nev furrowed her brow at him. “Did you call him back, Lizzie?”
Lizzie shook her head, trying to slow her breathing.
Zach made an exasperated sound. “Why not?”
Lizzie sniffed back snot. “I’m a mess.”
“Yeah,” Zach said. “What say we head back home? Discuss this on the way. C.J.’s brother is somewhere in the area.
They got into the Tank and Nev climbed in the back with Lizzie, snuggling her. Lizzie snuffled. “My god, Nev. Why am I such a basket case? I’ve lost everyone and now one of them comes back from the dead and I’m pissed off?”
“He’s not the one you want back,” Nev said, her voice soft and soothing.
“I guess.” Lizzie’s breath returned to a slower state. “What if he really is the bastard my mom said he was?”
“Maybe he is, or was, but he’s older, too. And wiser, maybe.”
“Maybe.” Lizzie pulled Nev into a hug, tearing Nev’s shirt. “Sorry ‘bout your shirt.”
“Hey, there are a million shirts. Only one you.” She laughed loudly. “You wanna go shopping? We could go places we can’t, uh, couldn’t afford.” She handed Lizzie her phone back.
“Like R.E.I.” Lizzie said. “Outdoor gear for the apocalypse?”
“What?” Nev smiled at her. “No, you’re such a boy. I don’t mean hiking boots and multi-tools. I mean clothing stores. Velvet, animal print, voluptuwear!”
“Okay, Nev. I’ll let you take me to girly stores.”
“Sissie.” Saj grinned as he pounded on his car seat.
Lizzie’s anxiety melted away. “Sebastian, you make me smile.”
“Thought his name was Saj,” Zach said over his shoulder.
“The more names the better. I’ll call him Sebastian Antonio Jones when he’s in trouble, right, Sebbie?”
She stuck her thumb into his tiny hand. The perfect fingers gripped it tight and pulled toward his mouth. He sucked for a moment then bit. “Ouch. Sebastian Antonio.”
After that she sank into silence. What the hell am I supposed to do about my father—the sperm donor? She would call him back; she needed to.
He hadn’t really said anything. She could tell he’d wanted to say Dad. Or Papa or something. At least he had the decency not to. Nobody called her Elizabeth, but Mama always told her he had picked the name. She’d always thought she’d go by Elizabeth when she got a job and career.
Jobs. College. Careers. All gone. Survival school is all that remains.
And her dad was alive. The father I dreamed of, the one I’d imagined he might have been, is not him. But we have things in common. Music and movies. What was that worth? Was it worth the missed birthdays? He hadn’t sent a card. How hard was that? “Okay,” she said, finally making a decision.
“Okay what?” Nev asked.
“I’m going to call him. Don’t know what I’m going to say.”
“He probably doesn’t know what to say either,” Nev said. “What’d he say in the message?”
“Nothing. I want to tell him the fuck off, for all the years he wasn’t there. All those years of nothing.”
“Well,” Zach said, “that’s one way to do it.”
“You might ask him why?” Nevaeh suggested. “Why he wasn’t there. Maybe later…” She pulled Lizzie’s eyes to hers. “Lizzie, when you call him.... Do you want us there?”
“I don’t know. But let’s do that shopping trip first.”
“Some old-fashioned consumer therapy without the cost.” Nev grinned at her. “So really, it’s just a dress-up day.”
15
LIZZIE PUSHED THE MALL DOOR open at the entrance to the food court by the movie theatre. Her nose scrunched; the big open seating area smelled like rancid grease and old pizza. Gone was the heavenly scent of cinnamon rolls. She heard skittering noises and saw a flash of dark fur as they came in. “God, I hope that was a cat.”
Spike wouldn’t come in. Something about all the glass seemed to set him off.
The short ride had put Saj to sleep in the car seat. Zach carried him in and set the car seat down outside the entrance to the theatres. Then he raced in and vaulted the concessions counter. “Soda? Popcorn? Only a hundred dollars.” He dumped popcorn kernels into the popper.
Lizzie laughed. “We’ll take like two mega-super-gigantimous sodas.” She grabbed Nev’s hand. “It’s like our first date.”
Nev squeezed her hand back. “We haven’t decided what to see, yet.”
“What about Star Wars Episode IX?” Zach offered thoughtfully. “Or something romantic, what do you think, young lady?”
Zach leaned over the counter conspiratorially and whispered in Nev’s ear. “You wanna get a kiss at the end of the date? I’d suggest the new Nicholas Sparks film.”
“Oh, I’d love that,” gushed Nev.
Lizzie broke character. “The kiss or the movie?” She felt warm inside. “Do you know how to run a movie, Zach?”
“Don’t know. Never tried.” He grabbed soda cups. “What kind do you want, girls?”
Lizzie answered, “Coke. Classic. Or Vanilla.” The smell of popcorn got her mouth-watering. “We should try.”
“Try what?” Zach handed her the giant cup.
“Starting a movie.”
“I want a diet Coke,” Nev said, “I know it’s weird; I like the flavor. No ice. I might chew it.”
“You know what they say about girls—” Zach grinned and raised an eyebrow as he poured the soda. “Maybe I could—”
Zach was the same old Zach again. His pissy attitude had degenerated into teenage lust.
“Zachster.” Nev took the diet Coke and sucked loudly on the straw. “Keep dreamin’, buddy.”
Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Besides, she’s my date.” She pulled Nev into a hug. “We came here to shop.”
“Okay,” Zach said. “You girls go shopping; I’ll see if I can get a movie going.”
“You sure?” Lizzie asked. “The baby? Saj?”
“Leave him here.” He nodded toward the sleeping baby in the car seat. “If he wakes up with a messy diaper, I’m calling you.”
“Keep him with you.” Lizzie thought of the dogs and the shape she’d seen. “Keep him with you, okay?”
Zach caught her drift and his face turned serious. “I will.” He picked up the car seat and a drink and headed into the theatre.
Lizzie turned to Nev. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“What’s the most expensive place here?” Nev sipped her soda as they walked
out of the theatre.
“You’re asking me? I don’t shop here.” They rounded the corner past a jewelry store—one of the few with closed doors, it looked like someone had tried to force it, but, unlike most of the other stores, it had withstood the assault.
“Okay, well. Let’s find one. Race you.” Nev put her soda down on the floor and ran.
Lizzie glared at Nev as she raced away. Nev had always been slim and had never filled out like Lizzie. “Bite me.” She hadn’t beat Nev in a foot race since they were twelve.
Nev ran back towards her. “Come get me.”
“What the hell.” Lizzie set her soda down by Nev’s and took off after her. Nev let her catch up as they entered Macy’s at the end of the mall.
Nev piled a cart full of clothes. She kept squealing and holding things up against Lizzie. “Perfect,” she would say. Or, “This is exactly what you need to set off your eyes.” Lizzie wondered what she had gotten herself into. They went into the handicapped changing room with the entire cart.
Half an hour later, Lizzie and Nev both had new clothes—perfect fits, clean underwear. Lizzie had to admit she looked nice in the clothes Nev had picked. And Nev looked even better. Even if the clothes were terrifyingly normal. Nev had classy taste and trying on clothes for her gave Lizzie a warm, safe feeling.
Lizzie pushed the cart out of Macy’s; alarms went off as they passed the doorway.
Nev took the cart. “Better get those stupid plastic thingies off so we don’t have to cut them later.” She pulled the cart up to the checkout counter and tossed everything up there. With a practiced motion she pulled the clothes through and removed the security tags.
“Wow,” Lizzie marveled. “You’re good.”
“I worked last summer at Wet Seal in the Capital Mall. Helped pay for books and fees.” Nev tossed the clothes in the cart and they passed through the security sensors without any alarms.
They’d found outrageously expensive and sexy bras at Victoria’s Secret with the threat to torture Zach later. Lizzie grinned at Nev. Only at the end of the world would Lizzie be found shopping at a mall instead of a thrift store.
ALL IS SILENCE Page 11
