Chapter 9
With the cordless phone clutched in my hand, I paced the length of the living room, thanking the telephone company for their prompt service yesterday and thinking my daughter was alone on the streets, too upset for common sense and easy prey for some dirty old man. I didn’t need to remind myself we didn’t live in a subdivision in the country now. We lived in the city proper, where people lived on the streets, where people begged on street corners for handouts, where pushers sold drugs, where … no, I wouldn’t think the worst.
There was no reason for alarm. It had only been two hours. When Katie was ready, she’d come home. She was simply angry and trying to scare me.
I considered what to do next.
I had already called all her friends. No one saw or heard from her since Friday. Maybe Jonathan should know. I imagined my ex-husband’s reaction when he learned I misplaced his daughter and decided not to call him.
No, I had to call him. It was the right thing to do.
Feeling like the earth dropped beneath my feet for the second time today, I rummaged through my purse for his home telephone number. I stared at the seven digits for a moment before punching them in. Jonathan didn’t answer the phone as I expected he would. His girlfriend did. I hung up. It went against everything I’d been taught. I didn’t care. If my mother wanted me to be courteous and gracious at all times, she should have shown me how to be polite to my husband’s lover.
The front door opened and closed.
Recognizing my daughter's footsteps, I charged from the living room and caught up to her on the first step of the staircase. While waiting for her to return home, I'd prepared a litany of rules to enforce on her, but now I couldn't remember one of them. “Oh, thank God, honey, you’re all right. I was sick with worry.” I wrapped her in a fierce hug. She didn’t pull away.
With a great deal of effort, I released her after a moment of almost squeezing the life out of her. I called to Benjamin upstairs. “Your sister’s home.”
Katie stepped off the stairs and onto the floor beside me.
Benjamin bounded down the steps. “Sis, where’ve you been? Why’d you run away like that?” He grabbed her around the waist and hugged her tightly. “I was so worried. I thought you were never coming back.”
Katie turned and clasped her brother’s hands. “I just needed to be alone, just like you do sometimes.”
“I go to my room, though.”
Hearing my daughter’s chuckle and seeing the love in her eyes for Benjamin made me remember what our lives were like before the divorce.
I lead them into the living room with Benjamin latched on to his sister like an appendage.
They sat on the sofa. I sank to the floor before Katie and rested my hands on her knees. “Where have you been, honey? Do you want to talk about it?” I kept my voice soft, calm. It took a great deal of strength. I still wanted to throttle her.
“What’s the flukin’ big deal where I was? I’m not a child anymore.”
I patted her hand and forced a smile. “That’s true. I keep forgetting you’re all grown up.”
“I don’t need to tell you where I am every minute of the day. I’m sixteen years old.”
My daughter goaded me. I was determined not to rise to the occasion. “Age doesn’t have anything to do with whether or not you check in with me, or calling to tell me you’re safe and you’ll be home soon. That’s what mothers and their children do. I was worried. I imagined you being attacked by some pervert, or dead in an alley somewhere.” I swiped at a tear and bowed my head. I wasn't playing fairly but if the ruse worked, I could live with the manipulation.
Through my lashes, I watched my daughter’s reaction. Only a second passed before she threw her arms around my neck and said she was sorry. We hugged. There was no greater pleasure than having my daughter in my arms. Benjamin jumped from the sofa and hugged us both. Correction. There was no greater pleasure than having both my children in my arms.
“I thought you’d be mad.” Katie sat back down and pulled her brother with her.
Truth was, I'd fumed. It was a wonder smoke hadn't billowed from my ears. “I’m just thankful you’re home safe and sound.” I put up with a lot from her lately, but one day we’d be friends again. Miracles happened.
“I got a tattoo.”
“You got a tattoo?” I couldn’t believe my straitlaced, A-student daughter would do something like that. Images of dirty needles and dirty hands flashed before my eyes. It took all of my resolve not to mention that.
She nodded. “On my butt. You wanna see it?”
“I want to. I want to.” Benjamin bounced in place.
“Of course, I’d like to see it, honey.”
She stood, turned and rolled down the waistband of her jeans. “It’s a snake.”
A snake? Lord Almighty. I didn’t know what to say. What a beautiful snake? Snakes scared me. Benjamin came to my rescue.
“Awesome.” He turned to me. “Mom, can I get a tattoo?”
I saw that coming. “Yes, when you’re thirty-six.”
He counted on his fingers. When he came to the ninth one, he said, “Mawum. That’s a long way away.”
I grabbed him around the neck and knuckled his head. “Not so long. Hey, you want to see my tat?” I controlled the urge to laugh at my daughter’s surprised expression. I bared my midriff.
“See?” My son and daughter gawked at the yellow rose encircling my navel. “That was a long time ago. I was mad at my mother and thought it’d freak her out. It didn’t. Your grandmother was a terrific lady. God, I miss her.” I brushed tears from my cheeks. It seemed all I did today was cry.
Katie chewed on a thumbnail. “What were you mad at Grandma for?”
I sat next to her, thinking back to that time. The reason refused to surface. “I can’t remember now. Must have been something important, though, huh?” I shrugged. “Now, the tattoo is a constant reminder of my petulance at that age.”
“You could have it removed.” Katie shrugged.
I shook my head. “No. I need it to be there.”
“Why?” she asked softly.
“Because it helps make me a better person.” I could virtually see the wheels turning in my daughter’s head. Katie would remember this moment her entire life. Maybe one day she'd tell this story to her daughter, too.
She stared down at the floor. “Mom, did you believe me when I told you I saw a ghost?”
I took her hand in mine. “Is that why you got mad and left the restaurant?”
She nodded, biting her bottom lip.
“I’m sorry, honey. I should have been more sensitive, more understanding.”
“Well? Do you believe me?”
The tears pooling in her eyes made mine water. Afraid I might have another crying bender and babble like an idiot as seemed my inclination lately, I concentrated on taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. Feeling stronger, I turned my full attention on my daughter. “I believe you believe you saw a ghost.”
“But you don’t believe in ghosts?”
“No.” Nothing would change my mind.
“I didn’t believe in ghosts, either, until I saw one.”
“Sometimes our minds plays tricks on us — ”
She shrugged out of my grasp and stood. “You know, Mom, not everything is black and white. There are gray areas, and despite what you think, there are things you know nothing about.” She stomped from the room and up the stairs.
I shook my head, wondering how I'd managed to yet again alienate my daughter. She was right about one thing, though. There were things I knew nothing about. How to handle a rebellious teenager, for one.
I gathered Benjamin in my arms. It was unlike him to have nothing to say. “Everything all right, sweetie?”
He knelt on the couch beside me, cupped his small hands around my ear and whispered, “Irwin told me you wouldn’t believe me if I told you about him.”
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br /> “Why are you whispering?” I whispered too, I realized.
Benjamin looked over my shoulder. “Because he’s here in the room with us now.”