Just Another Girl

by Melody Carlson

  “Not you,” I say.

  “Uh, do you girls want to come inside?” Dad offers in a way that suggests he’s not quite comfortable with the concept. I suspect this has to do with his neat-freak wife.

  “Yes!” Lily says. “I’m thirsty.”

  So we follow Dad and Nelson through the French doors that go into the family room. Their family room is about twice as big as ours, and everything matches. I mean really matches, like Jana picked it all out at the same time or maybe even from a catalog. Rose thinks it’s beautiful, but I think it feels phony. Lily just likes the big-screen TV.

  “Aster, why don’t you get Lily and yourself something to drink,” Dad says. “I’ll get Nelson off to dreamland.”

  “Dreamland,” Lily says in a wistful voice.

  Lily decides she wants Pepsi, and I settle for water. We both just stand in the kitchen, because I don’t want Lily to spill her soda on the cream-colored rug in the family room. Dad comes back, gets himself a beer, and asks us if we want to sit down.

  “Maybe at the breakfast bar,” I suggest, nodding to Lily and her soda.

  Dad seems to get this. So we all three sit at the breakfast bar, and Lily does spill some Pepsi when she spins around too fast on the bar stool. I give her a warning as I run for some paper towels. Then I sop up her spill, wipe her face, and tell her to drink the last sip, which she does. I take the can over to the sink, rinse it out, and turn to see Dad staring at me again.

  “Where does this go?” I ask.

  “Just leave it in the sink, I’ll get it later.”

  So I set the can and my glass in the sink, then turn to face my dad, who is still sitting at the breakfast bar between us. Lily has wandered into the family room, where she has discovered a basket of picture books and seems content.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering about this surprise visit,” I say quietly. “And I don’t want to play games, so I’m just going to come right out with it.”

  He nods. “Okay.”

  “Why haven’t you been paying child support for the past two years?”

  Dad frowns, then runs his fingers through his beard. “Didn’t your mom tell you that I’m not working?”

  “You’re not working?” This stuns me. How can Dad, the guy who used to be a total workaholic, not be working?

  “No, I quit when Nelson was really small. You see, Jana decided—I mean, we decided that one of us needs to stay home with Nelson until he starts kindergarten. He was getting sick so much from the day-care center that we were worried about his health, and Jana was missing work when she had to go get him all the time.” Dad holds up his hands. “Anyway, since Jana makes more money than I do and she had the best health insurance and benefits, I was nominated to be the main caregiver for our son.”

  “So you’re a stay-at-home dad?”

  “Just call me Mr. Mom.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep. And let me tell you, it gets old fast.”

  I glance over at Lily. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “Yeah, I guess not.”

  “Even so, Dad, aren’t you still supposed to pay child support? I mean, isn’t it a law?”

  “When I told your mom about this development a couple years ago, I explained that since my income was going to be reduced to zero, it would be impossible to pay child support, and as you can imagine that didn’t go over too well.”

  “So I heard.” I don’t point out that I just learned of this recently.

  “Anyway, your mom pretty much told me that if I didn’t pay child support, I wouldn’t be allowed to see you girls at all—ever.”

  I blink. “She really said that?”

  “Yep.”

  “So that’s why we haven’t seen you.”

  “She explicitly told me that if I had any more to do with you girls other than sending you things for birthdays and holidays, she would talk to a lawyer.”

  “Oh yeah . . . now it’s beginning to make sense.”

  “Didn’t she tell you any of this?” Dad asks.

  “No. If the subject of you comes up, which it seldom does, Mom gets angry, and that’s pretty much the end of it.”

  “Well, your mother also said that as soon as I start working again, she will go after the five years of unpaid child support, which means I won’t be bringing much of a salary home. I, uh, I haven’t told Jana this yet.”

  And I assume that Jana hasn’t offered to help Dad pay child support for the three girls she can barely tolerate. In fact, I suspect that Jana is perfectly happy with this little arrangement. Dad gets to stay home and take care of their child, plus they don’t get stuck with child support. Nice setup.

  “So I don’t really know what I can do for you, Aster.” He holds his hands up again in that helpless gesture. “Unless I go back to work, which sounds tempting, although Jana would throw a fit.”

  “You wouldn’t want that to happen.”

  He forces a weak-looking smile. “No . . . I wouldn’t.”

  “So is it all you hoped it would be, Dad, to have a son?” I hear the bitterness in my voice, and as much as I don’t like it, I don’t think I can help it. I am angry. Really angry.

  “Well, I have to admit that for as much work as that little bugger makes for me, he’s a lot of fun too.”

  “Yeah, sometimes I feel like that about Lily.” I narrow my eyes at my dad and lower my voice. “But I don’t get off caring for her for only five years. It’s been more like most of my life. Not that I have a life, really. It’s hard to when you have a full-time job taking care of a—” I stop myself from saying “retard.” I know that’s wrong. And it’s not really how I feel. But I am frustrated. More at Dad than Lily.

  Just then we hear the door to the garage opening, and I turn to see Jana coming in. She looks as shocked to see me as I am to see her. She has on some kind of medical garb, kind of a like a doctor, I suppose.

  “Why, Aster,” she says with raised brows, “what are you doing here? Is anything wrong?”

  “Yeah,” I say flippantly. “Something is wrong. But I don’t see that it’s ever going to be made right.”

  This only makes her look more confused, so Dad gives her a quick explanation, leaving a few things out.

  “Does your mother know you’re here?” Jana asks.

  “No. And she won’t find out about it either. Otherwise she might try to charge Dad for seeing us. Not that he’d pay.” I walk into the family room, where Lily is immersed in a Care Bears pop-up book.

  “Come on, Lily.” I reach for the book, close it, and place it in the basket. “It’s time to go home.”

  “But I wanna look at the—”

  “We’ll go look at books at the library.” I grab her hand and pull her to her feet. “At least those books are free. We can afford that.” As she stands, she notices Jana, and I think she gets that maybe we aren’t wanted here. Lily’s eyes grow wide as I pull her past Dad and his wife. I lead her through the house and out the front door, then slam it behind us.

  “Are you mad, Aster?” We’re out on the sidewalk now, and as I dial Owen’s cell phone number, Lily studies me with a confused frown.

  “Actually, I am a little mad.”

  “At that girl?” Lily calls all females girls.

  “Yes. Do you remember Jana?”

  “Yeah. She mean.”

  “Yes,” I agree. “She is.” I want to add that Dad is mean too, but I don’t want to poison Lily. In fact, I am beginning to get an idea . . . an idea that could buy me some free time.

  Lily and I walk several blocks. I can’t bear to just stand out there in the front yard like Dad’s reject kids, the ones he threw away so he could start a new life.

  “How’d it go?” Owen asks when he finally meets up with us down the street.

  I force a smile. “How about if I fill you in on it later.”

  “Oh yeah.” He nods toward Lily. “I get you.”

  “I played with Nelson,” Lily announces. Then she tells Owen about
the sandbox and the swing and the basket of pretty books.

  “Sounds like you had fun, Lily,” Owen says.

  “I did.” Then she looks cautiously at me. “I think I did. Did I, Aster?”

  This makes me laugh. “Yes, Lily, you did have fun. Then Jana came home, and it was time to go.”

  “Because Jana is mean.”

  As Owen drives us home, Lily babbles on about how she spilled Pepsi and the pop-up dragon book and lots of Lily-like things. But I’m being quiet because I’m making a plan—an independence plan. I think it could work too. But only if I can get my mom to agree. That will be the big challenge. And I realize this might require some research on my part. I might need to find out about visitation rights and perhaps a bit more about child support laws. I might even become an expert on family law.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I tell Owen when we get home.

  “I hope it helped.”

  “We’ll see,” I say.

  “Do you want to do anything later tonight?”

  I’m about to say no when I realize that a night out might be just the ticket to kick this thing off, not to mention it will get my mother’s attention.

  I wait until Lily is out of the pickup to answer. “I’d love to do something tonight. And my mom doesn’t work late on Saturdays, so she can spend the evening with Lily.”

  Owen’s eyes light up. “Cool.”

  I nod. “Yeah, way cool.”

  “What time does your mom get home?”

  “Around six.”

  “Should I pick you up then?”

  I grin at him. “Yep. That’d be perfect.”

  Of course, as I unlock the door I realize this could present another problem. Being that it’s Saturday, I usually go to youth group with Crystal, and we always take Lily with us. However, based on how things went with Lily and Crystal just last night, I wouldn’t be surprised if we don’t hear from Crystal today. And I know that I won’t be calling her. If Lily asks, I’ll just have to explain that that’s what comes of being naughty like she was last night. Because, as Kellie always points out, consequences can be the best lessons for kids like Lily. Unfortunately, special needs kids often need the same consequences over and over, and that can be exhausting for some of us. But I’ll be out of that picture tonight.

  13

  “You’re doing what?” Mom demands as we face off in the kitchen. I’ve just told her my plans for the evening.

  “I’m going out tonight,” I repeat calmly. “I have a date with Owen. He’ll be here soon.”

  “What about youth group . . . and Lily?”

  I make a skeptical face. “Really, Mom, did you think that Crystal would drive us there after the way Lily treated her last night?”

  “I’ll drive you,” Mom says quickly.

  “Oh?” I feign surprise. “I didn’t even think of that.”

  “Well, I will—”

  “Sorry, Mom, it’s too late. I already made plans, and I’m sure Owen is on his way over here right now.”

  “Why don’t you and Owen take Lily to youth group then?” I hear a slight note of pleading in her voice now. She so does not want to be stuck at home alone with Lily tonight. Well, join the club.

  “Owen doesn’t go to that youth group.”

  “What if I drop Lily at youth group?” Poor Mom. She is desperate.

  But this actually makes me laugh. I put a hand on Mom’s shoulder. “No way, Mom. You don’t get it, but Lily couldn’t possibly handle being at youth group on her own. Of course, if you were to stay there with her, it might—”

  “No.” Mom shakes her head firmly.

  Now Lily joins us in the kitchen and is looking at me with suspicion. I’m sure she notices that I have changed clothes and I have my purse. “Where we going?” she asks.

  “I am going out with Owen tonight,” I say calmly. Really, I don’t want to rock her boat. Just then I hear the doorbell and feel like shouting hallelujah, but I don’t. “And you get to stay home with Mom.”

  “No!” Lily shouts.

  I just lean over and kiss her cheek. “Yes,” I say firmly. “And you be a good girl, okay?”

  “No!” she shouts even louder. “No! No! No!” She even attempts to block my way, but I’m prepared for this and take a different route. Poor Lily. She is still screaming “No! No! No!” as I bolt out the door. And yes, I do feel guilty.

  “Everything okay in there?” Owen asks with a worried look.

  “I have no idea.” I take out my phone and turn it off as he walks me to the pickup. “But I think we should hurry and get out of here.”

  As Owen drives, I explain about part one of my independence plan, involving my parents in the care and maintenance of Lily Flynn. “My mom needs a taste of what my life is really like,” I tell him. “That way she’ll take me seriously when I suggest that she should allow visitation again, so that Dad can enjoy his fair share of Lily time too.”

  “You are so smart.” Owen chuckles. “Wicked smart.”

  I laugh. “I just hope that Lily survives.”

  “She seems like a survivor to me.”

  And that’s exactly what I tell myself every time I think of her this evening. Because Lily is a survivor. She’s probably tougher than all of us. And yet I know she has a tender heart as well. I hate to hurt her. And so I pray for her. But that just makes me feel guilty because not only did I ditch Lily tonight, I ditched youth group too.

  “You’re being pretty quiet,” Owen observes as we’re finishing dinner. Tonight it’s just the Burger Joint, but I appreciate it all the same. And I guess I can’t expect fine Greek food every night.

  “Sorry.”

  “You’re worried about Lily, aren’t you?”

  I blink. “Yeah, how’d you guess?”

  “Let’s just say that you’ll probably never be a good poker player.”

  “Why not? I’m actually pretty good with cards.”

  “Maybe. But you wouldn’t be good at bluffing. No poker face.”

  “Oh, that’s because I wasn’t trying. Trust me, when I need to bluff I have no problems with it.”

  He nods. “Somehow I believe you.”

  “Got any cards?”

  He laughs. “I have a better idea.”

  “What?”

  “It’s Miles Atwood’s birthday party tonight. I wasn’t really planning on going, but it might be fun. You want to go?”

  I know enough about Miles Atwood to know that if it’s his party, it probably involves booze. And I’m not really into that. Okay, I’m not into that at all. At least I never have been before. “I don’t know . . .”

  “Miles is an old friend, Aster. And I feel kind of guilty for blowing him off on his birthday.”

  “I know . . . but I’m not sure I’d fit in.”

  “Sure you’d fit in.” He grins at me. “You’d be the prettiest girl there.”

  I consider this. Does he really think I’m talking about looks? Or maybe he’s just saying what he thinks I want to hear.

  “That’s not it, Owen. I’m just not comfortable with that whole scene.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just know. And I don’t really drink, Owen. I mean alcohol. And I know that these parties—”

  “Let’s make a deal,” he says suddenly.

  “What?”

  “We’ll go to the party, and if you’re not comfortable there, we can just leave. Okay?”

  “Really?”

  He runs his hand through my hair and smiles. “Do you think I’d make you stick around if you didn’t like it, Aster?”

  “No . . . I don’t think you would.”

  “Anyway, we’ll just pop in and say happy birthday, and if you don’t like how it feels, we can just leave. Deal?”

  “Deal.” Really, I tell myself, how bad could that be? “So where is the party anyway?”

  “Katie Wick’s house.”

  For some reason I find this comforting. I’ve been to Katie’s house lots of times, ba
ck when we were “best” friends, and I can’t imagine her parents allowing her to have a drinking party.

  “Sounds great,” I say.

  It’s about 7:30 when we get there, and Katie’s big circular driveway looks like a used car lot. Owen parks on the street, and we casually stroll up to the open front door and go inside. Balloons and streamers are everywhere, the music is loud, and the house is packed with guests.

  We press our way through the crowd, and I can feel people looking at me, probably wondering what I’m doing here, or what I’m doing with Owen. I just try to act cool. Poker face.

  We finally make it to the family room, which has been cleared of furniture to create a dance floor, and I notice that Katie now has a big inground pool in the backyard.

  “Owen,” Katie says as she comes over to join us. She has on a pale yellow sundress that shows off her golden tan. Suddenly I feel underdressed in my khaki shorts, Gap T-shirt, and flip-flops. “And Aster too!” She smiles as if she means it, and I begin to relax a bit. “I’m so glad you guys came. The party boy is out by the pool. We’re just getting ready to do the cake. Help yourself to drinks and whatever.”

  “Thanks, Katie,” I say. “Cool pool.”

  She nods. “Dad put that in a couple years ago. There’s a hot tub too. Did you bring a suit?”

  I shake my head. “No. I didn’t realize we were coming here tonight.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did.”

  And somehow I believe her.

  “Let’s go say hi to Miles,” Owen says.

  “And get some fresh air,” I add. Sometimes I can begin to feel claustrophobic in a crowded room or even an elevator. I begin to imagine there’s not enough oxygen for everyone.

  Out on the patio, I notice that Owen grabs what appears to be a beer from the cooler. Now, I’m determined not to make a big deal about one single beer, but I am wondering how I’ll feel if he drinks more than that. Will I want him to drive? Will I ask for his keys? What will I do? Was it a mistake to come here?

  “They’ve got sodas in the cooler too,” he tells me as he pops open the can. So I fish through the ice, digging past what’s mostly beer, until I locate a Squirt. Then I go and join Owen and Miles on the other side of the pool. They’re both on chaises, and since there’s not another place to sit, Owen pats the front part of his chaise. “There’s room for two here.”