The Girl Death Left Behind Read online

  “Terri, that’s enough!” Aunt Camille turned to Beth. “I don’t mind your having a friend over, honey, but next time I’d like a little more notice.”

  Beth’s smile was conciliatory. “You’re right, Aunt Camille. I should have asked, but it happened kind of suddenly. I think Sloane’s parents are out of town and Sloane was supposed to stay with another girl, but the plans got all messed up and she didn’t have anyplace to go. Instead of letting her stay alone at her house all weekend, I invited her here. I’m sorry I didn’t check it out with you first, but there was no time. They were closing up the school and so I just invited her.” Beth’s mouth went dry. She didn’t like lying, but couldn’t possibly have sorted out the truth for her aunt.

  “I can’t believe this!” Terri exclaimed.

  “It’s all right,” Camille insisted. “I want you to feel free to bring your friends here.” Terri dropped dramatically into a chair. Camille said, “Lighten up, Terri. Sure Sloane doesn’t look like all your friends, but I expect you to make her feel welcome.” She glanced at the kitchen clock. “Listen, I have to run to the store for a few last-minute things. Dinner doesn’t just crawl onto the table unassisted, you know.” She picked up her car keys. “I’ll be back soon.”

  As the door closed behind her mother, Terri shot off the chair. “I can’t believe you brought that girl to my house!”

  “She’s here. Believe it.”

  “What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking that she didn’t need to be spending Thanksgiving hiding out in some school bathroom. I was thinking that I would be nice to her and offer her a place to stay. Sorry if you don’t agree.”

  Terri crossed her arms. “Well, don’t expect me to entertain her. Me and my friends are going to the mall first thing Friday morning. We were planning on taking you, but now you can just stay here with your new buddy.”

  “No problem. I don’t like being with you and your geeky friends anyway.”

  “My friends aren’t geeks! And tonight, plus every minute she’s here, I’m locking my bedroom door. In case she decides to murder us all in our sleep.”

  “Get a grip.”

  “Oh, drop dead!”

  Beth counted to ten, and once she’d calmed down, she returned to her room balancing a tray heaped with crackers, peanut butter, grapes, and a bag of cookies. The bathroom door was open, and steam from Sloane’s shower blanketed the hallway. With both hands full, Beth poked the door of her bedroom open with her toe. It swung inward silently. She saw Sloane, wrapped in a towel with her back turned, sorting through Beth’s closet as if she were in a department store instead of somebody’s private room.

  All Terri’s dire warnings bombarded Beth. With her heart hammering, she asked, “Need some help, Sloane?”

  14

  Without a hint of embarrassment at being caught pawing through Beth’s clothes, Sloane said, “I was looking for something to wear.”

  Beth set down the tray. “What’s the matter with your clothes?”

  Sloane eyed the duffel bag sitting on the floor. “I didn’t have time to do the laundry before I left home. Besides, the machines in my apartment building are all busted anyway.”

  With her hair slicked back and wet from the shower, her thin, jutting shoulders showing above the towel, and her face free of makeup, she looked childlike and vulnerable. Beth could more plainly see the dark smudge of a bruise beneath her eye and the puffiness of her lip. She saw another bruise on her arm and yet another on her leg. “Why did you leave home?”

  “Are you writing a book?”

  “No. But I sort of made up a fib to my aunt, and now I’d like to know. Just for me.”

  Sloane shrugged, saw the tray of food, and went for it. She spread peanut butter on several crackers and talked between bites. “My old man and me don’t get along. He thinks I’m a slut.”

  “He calls you that?” The word shocked Beth.

  “He calls me a lot of things. Especially when he’s boozing. Mostly I try and stay out of his way, but sometimes we get into it.”

  “What about your mom?”

  “She drinks right along with him. And he hits her. So sometimes I can’t stand to hear him beating on her and I get between them to try and make him stop. Which really makes him mad. So I get a few licks too.”

  “You’ve had it rough.”

  “Who hasn’t? It’s just luck of the draw—I got the family I got, you got the one you got. Terri gets to live like some princess. Life ain’t fair.”

  Beth couldn’t imagine living the way Sloane did. She thought of her own father, quiet and gentle. He’d never so much as spanked her, Allison, or Doug. A pang of longing stabbed her. Fighting tears, she went to her closet and began shoving aside hangers. “I didn’t see your boyfriend today. Doesn’t he usually pick you up?”

  “Carl’s out of town. He’s got this uncle up in Alabama who owns this garage. Anyway, his uncle is helping him trade in his cycle for a car. I’m going to miss that cycle.”

  Beth pulled out some jeans and a clean T-shirt. “These should probably fit.” She was taller than Sloane and not as slim, but the jeans were a pair she’d outgrown. “You can keep them.”

  “I don’t want charity. I’ll get them back to you after I wash.”

  “Would you like to do some laundry now? You can use our machine.”

  “I could throw in some stuff. Sure, that’ll be fine.” Sloane tugged on the borrowed clothes, picked up her bag, and asked, “Which way?”

  Once the clothes were started, they went to the kitchen, where Camille, home from the store, was busy preparing supper. “Well be eating in about an hour,” she said. “Jack’s firing up the grill right now.” She glanced at Sloane, then looked startled, and Beth realized that she was just now seeing the bruises on Sloane’s face. “What happened?”

  “I fell.”

  Beth cast her aunt a glance warning her not to press Sloane for details and was relieved when she didn’t.

  They ate dinner outside on the patio, their chairs snug around the table, looking for all the world like a family. Except that they weren’t. The air felt soft and cool. The smell of charcoal and grilled burgers reminded Beth of the cookouts her family used to have with the Carpenters. Fourteen summers gone. Like smoke in the wind. Now she sat on a patio hundreds of miles from home, an orphan, amid relatives she didn’t want to be with and a girl stranger than anyone she’d ever known. Life wasn’t fair. Sloane was certainly right about that much.

  Beth let Sloane sleep in on Thanksgiving Day. Camille and Terri were busy in the kitchen and Terri was acting hateful, so Beth went out to the garage, where she found her uncle sorting through boxes and organizing shelves. “You off KP duty?” he asked.

  “I’m just in the way in the kitchen.” Beth heaved a sigh, saw an empty spot, and sat.

  “I know what you mean. Thought I’d hang around out here. And … I’ve been putting off this cleanup for ages. Now’s as good a time as any.” She watched him stack boxes. He opened one and gave a grunt. “Hey, come look at this and tell me what you see.”

  Beth peered inside. “Old clothes.”

  He shook out a set of army fatigues. “Not just any old clothes. This is my army gear. Your dad and I were in the same company, you know. Lived right next to each other in army housing. Your mom and Camille were pregnant at the same time.”

  “Mom told me.”

  Jack stroked the garments, put them aside, and pulled out a photo. “Boy, this was a long time ago.”

  He handed the picture to Beth, who took it and saw the images of Jack and her father standing next to a Jeep. Both men had shaved heads and wore big smiles. They looked young, slim, fit, and happy. A lump filled her throat, and the photo wavered as tears filled her eyes.

  Jack gently took the photo and cradled it in his hand. “Paul was a good man. I miss him.”

  “Me too.”

  Jack smoothed her hair. “He was always on my case about my being on the road so much.
He’d say, ‘Get your priorities straight, Jack. You spend too much time away from your family.’ And I’d say, ‘I’ve got to feed them.’ And he’d say, ‘Yeah, but sometimes it’s better to eat light than to get too much distance between you and them.’ He once said, ‘I never heard a man on his deathbed say he’d wished he’d worked more. On his deathbed, a man always wishes he’d spent more time with his wife and kids.’ ” Jack tucked the photo into his shirt pocket. “He turned down better-paying jobs so that he could spend more time with you all, you know.”

  She hadn’t known, but she believed him. Jack’s reminiscences sounded exactly like her father. He had always put his family first. They had done things together—school events, sports, games, travel. She’d been getting bored with it, wishing they didn’t have quite so much togetherness. She’d been wanting to do more with her friends, less with her family. But it was all over now. She’d never be with her family again.

  Jack looked at her. “I’ve depressed you. I’m sorry. I just got carried away. The truth is, I miss him too, Beth. Our family get-togethers every year were our chance to renew our friendship. I don’t have anyone to talk to anymore.… Paul was a good friend.”

  Beth sniffed and wiped the moisture from her cheek. “It’s okay. I’m all right.”

  Jack knelt and took her hands in his. “I feel honored to have known such a fine man as your father. And I’m proud to have you as my daughter. Heartsick about the circumstances that brought you here, but proud nonetheless.”

  She managed a smile. “Thanks.”

  “We’ll always take care of you, Beth. And for the record, I’m trying very hard to realign my priorities. I’m backing off my travel schedule after the first of the year.” He wiped her cheek with his thumb. “Your father would have been pleased. Yes—Paul would think I’m finally getting my priorities in order.”

  15

  Camille dropped the three girls off at the mall early on Friday morning so that they could begin their Christmas shopping. Camille had also given Beth fifty dollars to spend. Terri immediately hooked up with LuAnne and Kasey and left Beth and Sloane to fend for themselves.

  “Let’s try this way.” Beth pointed to the closest department store, in the opposite direction from where Terri had headed. In the juniors department, she searched through a dress rack.

  “You looking for something in particular?”

  “Just looking. How about you? Who’s on your Christmas list?”

  “I don’t buy Christmas presents.”

  “Not for anyone?”

  “Maybe my mom. I don’t get my old man nothing. He’s a creep.”

  “How about Carl?”

  “Yeah. I’ll get Carl something. Just not today.”

  Suddenly Beth realized that Sloane probably didn’t have any money. “We could look for something, and then you could come back for it later.”

  “Carl don’t want something from the stupid mall.”

  Beth was at a loss. Since she and Sloane had little in common, she was running out of ideas for entertaining her. At least Thanksgiving Day had gone well. Between the dinner and Camille’s taking the girls to a movie so that Jack could watch football games on TV, the day had passed swiftly.

  Sloane turned to her. “But don’t let me keep you from your shopping. Who are you buying for?”

  “My aunt and uncle, I guess. I’ll have to mail Marcie and Teddy presents, so I should probably get something for them right away. They’re my best friends back home.”

  Sloane looked uninterested. “How about Terri? You getting something for her? Not that she deserves it. She’s not very nice to you.”

  “I guess I’ll have to.” She should have been shopping for gifts for her parents. For Allison. And for Doug. Tears filled her eyes.

  “You all right?” Sloane took a step closer. “I bet you bought presents for your family every year, didn’t you?”

  Beth nodded, surprised at how Sloane had picked up on what was going through her mind.

  “And now you got no family. Sort of like me.”

  “But you do!” Beth cried. “How can you say such a thing?”

  Sloane snorted. “Just ’cause they’re breathing air don’t make them real parents. My brother, Nicky, left two years ago, and just as soon as I can, I’m leaving too. Let them kill each other.”

  Taking Sloane to the mall had been a mistake, Beth realized. Sloane didn’t understand anything about traditions and family. Sloane hated her family, and they were alive. Beth loved hers, and they were dead. It didn’t make sense.

  “Hey, do you want to do something that says ‘in your face’?” Sloane asked. “Something that Terri and her little band of dweebs would never expect you to do?”

  “Like what?”

  “You want to get your belly button pierced?”

  Beth recoiled. “Wouldn’t it hurt?”

  Sloane raised her T-shirt enough for Beth to see a small silver ring hanging from her navel. “No more than getting your ears done.”

  Beth stared in fascination at the silver ring. Neither her aunt nor her mother would have ever allowed her to do such a thing. Now there was no one to tell her what she could or couldn’t do. This was a choice she could make by herself.

  “Best part,” Sloane continued, “is that nobody knows but you. As long as you keep it covered, of course. But once it’s done, even if they find out, what’re they going to do about it? It’s your little secret.”

  My little secret. Terri and her crowd would never do such a thing. Sloane was looking at Beth expectantly, and she realized that her answer would seal a sort of pact between them. They were from different worlds. Beth had always done what was expected of her; Sloane defied everybody. She was prickly and rude and … and scared. Despite all her bravado, Sloane Alonso was a scared little girl on the inside. Just like Beth.

  “All right,” Beth said. “I’ll do it. But you’ve got to come with me.”

  Sloane’s grin was quick and wicked. “Let’s do it right now.”

  That night Sloane supervised Beth as she dabbed hydrogen peroxide on the pierced area. It hurt, but Beth felt immensely pleased every time she looked down and saw the small, glittery silver ring. All that evening she smiled with self-satisfaction, until Terri groused, “What are you so happy about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Well, you look dopey.”

  Sloane whistled casually, exasperating Terri so much that she shoved away from the table and marched out of the room.

  “Now what’s got into her?” Camille asked.

  “Can’t imagine,” Beth said.

  On Saturday night when the others had gone to bed, Beth and Sloane watched a movie on the VCR. Close to midnight, they heard a car horn give three short beeps. “That sounded like it came from our driveway.” Beth went to the window.

  Sloane bolted to the front door and flung it open. “It’s Carl,” she called over her shoulder. She signaled to him.

  “What’s he doing here? I thought you said he was out of town.”

  “He’s back. I left a message on his friend’s answering machine telling him where I was. He’s here to get me.”

  “Now?” Beth couldn’t believe it. “You can’t leave now.”

  “Sure I can.”

  Carl approached the front door cautiously. “You ready?” he asked, giving Beth a nervous glance.

  “Let me throw my stuff in my duffel bag.” Sloane stood on tiptoes and kissed him.

  “Missed you, babe.”

  “Is that your new car?” Sloane peered around him to the driveway.

  “Nice, huh? It’s got a lot under the hood. I averaged eighty all the way from Fort Payne.”

  Beth fidgeted. She didn’t want her aunt and uncle to wake up, but how was she going to explain Sloane’s slipping away in the night?

  “Be right back.” Sloane scooted down the hall, and Beth found herself alone with Carl. He was a big guy with muscular arms and a day’s growth of beard.

  “Thanks
for letting her crash with you this weekend,” he said.

  “Um—no problem. We had a good time.”

  “I wouldn’t have left if I’d known her old man was going to slap her around.”

  “I—I like her.”

  Carl grinned. “Yeah, she’s pretty all right, to my way of thinking.”

  “You know, Fort Payne isn’t too far from where I used to live in Chattanooga,” Beth said to make conversation. “My dad took us to a concert there once.”

  Sloane came down the hall dragging her gear. “All set.”

  “I—I wish you wouldn’t go,” Beth stammered.

  “Got to. Besides, I don’t think Terri will miss me too much. Tell your aunt and uncle thanks. I had a good time.”

  Carl picked up Sloane’s things, and Beth watched them hurry out to the car and drive off. She stood in the doorway staring down the empty street, feeling oddly bereft. Sloane’s departure left silence and, for Beth, a void. While the two of them might never be the closest of friends, they had developed a connection that was important for each of them. When they’d needed someone, they’d found one another.

  16

  “I heard you had a guest for Thanksgiving.” Jared caught up with Beth in the hallway on Monday after their algebra test. “Everyone’s talking about it.”

  She hugged her books to her chest. “All I did was take Sloane to my aunt’s so she wouldn’t have to camp out at school. What’s to talk about?”

  “Actually, you’re sort of a hero.”

  She stopped short. “You’re joking. Why is this such a big deal?”

  “I’m not joking. Haven’t you figured out by now that everybody at Westwood runs with their own kind? Cool kids with cool kids, nerds with nerds, losers with losers,” he explained.

  “So what am I?”

  “That’s the problem. They don’t know where you fit. You start out with Terri the Stuck-up and move to Sloane the Unfavorable. In fact, you even take Sloane, the girl kids love to hate, into Terri’s sacred territory. The way I hear it, Terri’s really miffed. Mostly because you upstaged her, I think.” A grin broke across his face. “Way to go, Beth.”