On the Loose (A Katie Parker Production)

by Jenny B. Jones

My breath catches at Maxine’s expression. I see hurt and disappointment. Like I’ve stolen something from her. Like I’ve crossed a line, and I can’t return.

  “Friends don’t lie to one another.”

  I grab a Kleenex and blow.

  “I mean sure, I may have stretched the truth when you asked about my age.”

  I nod my head.

  “And I may not have been completely honest when I told you I got Botox injections last month because the clinic was having a clearance sale.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “But still, Katie.” Maxine’s voice is almost a hush. “I trusted you. And you abused that privilege. Of course I did know you were lying.”

  “You did?”

  Maxine sticks a thumb in her chest. “You gotta get up pretty early in the morning to trick this girl.”

  “Did Frances rat me out?”

  “No, your real science partner called.”

  “Charlie called? When? Why? What did he say?”

  Maxine arches a perfectly shaped brow. “Interested, are we?”

  Am I?

  “No. I’m not. Of course not. In fact, the jerk knew I was going to the party. He called here to get me in trouble.”

  “Well, it worked.”

  “And where did you get the siren on your bicycle?”

  “Nice touch, wasn’t it? Got that baby on eBay.” Maxine settles at the foot of my bed. “What’s going on with you? You haven’t been yourself lately.”

  Rocky’s nose appears in the crack of the door. He nudges it open and trots in. He stands in front of me and whines. Dogs have it so easy. What do they have to worry about? Sleep, get up, eat kibbles, chew on a shoe, sleep, drool on someone, go back to sleep.

  “Answer me, Katie.”

  I lean back on the bed and throw my hands over my face. Rocky chooses this moment to leap onto the bed and snuggles in beside me.

  “Get out.” I shove at the dog, who refuses to budge. “Get off this bed.” His nose burrows under my knee. “Your new artwork is scaring him.”

  Maxine crosses her arms and her brow furrows. “Get on with it.”

  “I don’t know.” How do I explain that my whole world is crashing? A giant, flaming ball of destruction. “Nothing’s going right.”

  “Such as?”

  “Millie has cancer.”

  “That is tough.” Maxine nods. “But how does that affect you?”

  “See, that’s the whole point. It does affect me. But no one around here acts like it does. I’m the last one to know anything. And then James and Millie treat me like I don’t care about any of this. Like today, I didn’t get to go to the hospital.”

  “I knew you’d be madder than a wet cat. Honestly, they thought they were protecting you. James and Millie are trying to do everything they can to not upset you. They wanted you to go out with your friends, though not of the keg party variety, and have fun. Millie said she didn’t want you thinking you had to wait around at the hospital all night.”

  “But I wanted to. Doesn’t anybody care what I want?”

  “I stuck curlers in my hair and painted my face with a peach mud mask. Would I humiliate myself for just anyone? I care about you, kid.” She shakes her head. “Get a clue, yo.”

  “Have you been watching MTV again?”

  She shrugs. “So what if I have? I had to do something while babysitting Amy these past few days.”

  “And that’s another thing. Amy.”

  “What about her?”

  “Amy comes home, which is great. Fabulous.” Not really. “And I get kicked out of my room. Do you know how that made me feel? Fine, so this was her room. But this has been my home, my room for over six months.” I swipe at my eyes. “How do you think I felt when I’m told to go stay at Frances’s house?”

  Maxine’s eyes narrow. “Who told you to do that?”

  I sniff. “Amy did.”

  “That little—”

  “She said her parents wanted to spend time with just her, you know, like a family, and I was to stay at Frances’s.”

  Maxine sits next to me. “You listen to me, and you listen good. You are this family.” She pulls me close, smashing my head against her bosom. “You are one of us. Do you understand?”

  I need windshield wipers for these tears.

  “I don’t know who that woman is, but she’s not our Amy. I’m sorry she’s been hurtful to you. But she’s not herself.” Maxine pats my head, and I spill the story about Angel and the shoes. “I’m sorry you’re had a bad week. Believe me, I know it’s hard to sleep when you’re not in your own bed.”

  “Yes, I can tell from your eight hours straight of snoring every night that it’s disturbing your beauty rest.”

  Maxine smiles. “And I’m sorry you’ve felt left out lately.”

  I nod.

  “And I’m sorry you’ve apparently had your brains sucked out by aliens. Because that is the only excuse for what you pulled tonight.”

  I push my foster grandmother away. “But you’re not going to tell James and Millie?”

  “I said I wouldn’t.” She holds up a finger. “If my conditions are met. But if you do something like that again, or if you fail to eat one single lima bean off my plate or miss one day of my chicken feeding duty, I’ll spill my guts like Texas road kill.”

  “Well, isn’t this cozy?”

  Rocky’s head snaps up as Amy walks through the door.

  “Hello, Amy, dear.” Maxine goes to hug her granddaughter. Amy turns her head at Maxine’s kiss.

  “Where’s my stuff?”

  “I cleaned up a little. It’s stacked over there.” I point to her suitcase in the corner.

  Amy smirks. “How nice of you. But I was perfectly comfortable the way it was.”

  Maxine resumes her seat beside me. “This is Katie’s room now. And you had it completely trashed.”

  Amy stumbles over to her things and tears open the suitcase. “So?” Her red eyes transmit loathing and disgust. Angel could take lessons from this woman.

  “You can sleep in your parents’ room tonight. It has a much more comfortable bed anyway. One of those space age mattresses you know.” Maxine drops her voice. “Excellent for jumping on, Rocky and I have discovered.”

  “I don’t want to sleep in there.” She smiles at Maxine. “You sleep in there, Grandma. Katie and I can bunk in here. Like a big slumber party.”

  Maxine reaches into my nightstand without turning away from Amy. She pulls out a stick of gum and pops it in her mouth. I narrow my eyes. Can’t get anything by that woman. Not even my secret gum stash.

  “Katie will sleep in her bed. I will sleep in mine. And you will sleep in your parents.”

  Amy stomps her booted foot. Dried mud sprinkles on the wood floor. “I don’t want to! You take their bed.”

  “Nope.” Maxine pops her gum. “Now get ready for bed, Amy. You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

  “Like you care.”

  “That didn’t work when you were thirteen, and it sure doesn’t fly now.”

  Amy grabs some clothes from her suitcase. “I’m outta here.”

  “Where are you going?” Maxine throws up an arm and halts her granddaughter.

  “Back off!” Amy yells. “I’m sick of the questions! I’m sick of being told what to do. Nothing ever changes!”

  “Are those your mother’s keys?” Maxine asks.

  “My rental’s out of gas.”

  Maxine holds out her hand. “Hand them over now.”

  “No!” Amy shoves past her grandmother and bolts out the bedroom door, slamming it shut.

  Maxine and I run after her. I hurdle the stairs, but by the time I race onto the porch, Amy is backing the car out. I sprint down the driveway, but it’s no use.

  Maxine calls from the front steps. “Come back, Katie. You can’t catch her.”

  “What do we do?” I yell.

  She holds up her cell phone. “We call the police.”

  Small lights on eithe
r side of the drive illuminate my steps. “And what do we tell them?”

  “That Amy’s driving under the influence.” Maxine holds the door open. “See, Katie, you keep sneaking out to those parties, and that’s what happens to you. First it’s cigarettes. Then it’s alcohol. Then it’s drugs. And then you’re just another Amy. Cracked out, washed up, and skinnier than a starved supermodel.”

  “Yes, Maxine.”

  “Excuse me, Sweet Pea?”

  “Yes, Maxine, the most beautiful woman I know.”

  We each take an end on the living room couch, and I turn on a Hallmark movie. While Maxine places a call to the In Between police department.

  “This is Maxine Simmons. I want to report a major disturbance.” She sighs into the receiver. “Her name is Amy Scott.”

  Chapter 27

  When I roll over and look at the clock Saturday morning it says eleven. I think I can count this day a success already.

  The next thing I notice is Maxine standing in front of the mirror, a pink hat on top of her head, with salmon colored feathers sticking out in every direction.

  She catches me looking at her. “Well, hello, sleeping beauty. You like?”

  “It looks like the butt-end of a flamingo.” I rub my eyes and throw my feet over the side of the bed.

  “Well, then you don’t have to wear it. You can wear another one.”

  “Why would I wear a stupid hat?”

  Maxine moves away from the mirror and stands over me. “Because you will be attending my ladies tea this afternoon.”

  A bubble of laughter escapes. “What? I don’t even think so.”

  Maxine glares. “James and Millie are home. Downstairs, in fact. Would you like to explain to them why you were at Trevor Jackson’s house or should I?”

  “There better be cookies at this tea party.” I jerk my arms into my robe and cinch it tight. “How long has Millie been home?”

  Maxine smiles. “A couple of hours.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “Because I would’ve missed this.” She holds up her cell phone. On the screen in brilliant color is a picture of my face. Mouth wide open. Troll-like hair.

  Maxine’s cackle follows me all the way downstairs.

  “Good morning, Katie.” James intercepts me on the bottom step and pulls me into a fierce hug. “We missed you, kid.”

  “Right back atcha.” I step away. “Where’s Millie?”

  “She’s in the living room.”

  I find Millie curled up on the couch in some new lime-green pajamas with Rocky keeping a close watch.

  “Hi, sweetie!” My foster mom’s pale face brightens. “Come sit next to me for a while. I’ve missed you.”

  I cuddle in beside Mille, who rests her arm across my legs. I lean into her shoulder, careful not to put too much weight on her.

  “I’m glad you’re back,” I whisper. “Things aren’t the same without you.” I’m not the same without you. “Did Maxine tell you about Amy leaving last night?”

  “Yes, she did. She also told me Amy led you to believe we didn’t want you in the house while she was here.”

  My eyes drop to the floor.

  “Katie, that is not true. You belong here, with us. I would never kick you out of your own bed.”

  “That’s right.” James sits on a leather ottoman. “Surely you know if I kicked anyone out of her bed it would be Maxine.”

  “But why wouldn’t I believe her?” I look at both foster parents. “A lot of stuff has happened lately that has made it clear I’m not really a part of this family.”

  Millie’s hand flies to her chest. “Well, of course you are!”

  “How can you think that?” James asks.

  “You left me in the dark about the cancer. You didn’t want me at the hospital during the surgery. And Friday I wasn’t allowed to come see you at all. Like the only person you wanted to see was Amy.” Did that sound as pitiful as I think it did?

  James scoots in closer. “Katie . . .” He removes his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. “You’ve been through a lot. Even before you came to live with us. Our goal has always been to provide the best possible home for you.”

  “By making me feel like an outsider?”

  “No,” James continues. “By protecting you from any further hurt.”

  “We just wanted to do everything to keep you happy. Nothing we did was with the intention of leaving you out. I didn’t want my cancer to stop you from having a fun weekend.”

  Oh, I wish it had.

  My foster dad pats my knee. “We can see we made a few giant mistakes. We seem to be doing a lot of that lately.” He looks at his wife, who wears a matching expression of worry.

  “If I could bear hug you right now, I would. We don’t want you to ever doubt your place in this family.” Millie stretches a smile across her face. “We love you, Katie.”

  James nods. “We certainly do.”

  My heart swells, but my brain freezes. I know I should say something here, but I can’t. Words pound in my head trying to break free, but I can’t seem to grab hold of any of them.

  “How precious.”

  The spell of the moment breaks as Amy appears in the room.

  James stands to his feet. “Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick about you.”

  “Where are my car keys?” Millie holds out her hand.

  “Your car is fine. That is what you’ve been so worried about, right?” The keys jangle as Amy tosses them to her dad. “Maybe I should’ve given them to Katie. My new replacement.”

  I place one foot on the floor, ready to make my exit and leave them alone to fight.

  “Stay, Katie,” James says. “This is a family discussion. Besides, you need to stick around for Amy’s apology.”

  Amy laughs. “Apologize? For what? Your little brat here kicked me out of my own room last night. And Grandma just let her.”

  “That’s her bed. Her room. You should thank her for sharing it with you the past two nights,” Millie says.

  “You know, since you told her we didn’t want her around.” James crosses his arms.

  Amy opens her mouth, but her mother holds up a hand and stops her.

  “We purchased a plane ticket for you back to Miami. Your plane leaves at three o’clock. Your bags are packed and in the rental car. Your father put gas in it for you this morning.”

  Amy’s red eyes tear up as she stares at her mom. “So you’re kicking me out?”

  James runs a hand over his clean-shaven face. “There’s a list in your suitcase. Pastors I know in Florida. A list of treatment centers.”

  “For what?”

  “You need help, Amy.”

  “I’m not on drugs anymore.”

  I bite my lip. And I’m on the cover of Vogue.

  Amy makes a strangled sound, puts her hands over eyes and sobs. “I’ve never been good enough for you! Admit it.”

  “That’s not true.” Millie’s voice catches.

  “All my life I’ve tried to please you. It was never enough. My grades weren’t high enough, my clothes weren’t right, I didn’t love church enough. Why can’t you just love me for me?”

  “How can you say that?” James thunders. “You can’t possibly believe that. We’ve given you everything. Love, home, our support. But we will always want more for you. We will never stop believing you could do more with your life. That you can build a good life.”

  “A life that looks like yours? Fits your idea for me?”

  “We want you to be healthy and safe. And a functioning member of society. Is that really too much to hope for our child?”

  “So kicking me out is how you’re gonna help me?”

  Is now a good time to offer a certain neon velvet print as a parting gift?

  “We’ve played this game for years.” Millie says.

  Her husband nods. “We’re done. Every time we bail you out, we’re just making it easier for you to live like you do. Easier for you to sink
further into your addiction. We realized this weekend it has to stop. It’s time we let you fall on your face.”

  “Thanks,” Amy sneers. “Thanks a lot.”

  “We love you,” Millie whispers. “And you will always have a place in this family and in this home. When you get clean.”

  “When you’re ready to try, all you have to do is call. Call us. Call any of those numbers I’ve given you.”

  Millie sniffs and rubs a hand over her running nose. “We’re here for you when you’re ready. And we’re praying for you. We know God can heal this situation.”

  “God? I don’t care about God. He’s been shoved down my throat all my life!” Amy holds her arms out. “Where is God in all of this? Where is he when I can’t go a day without something to get me through? Where is he when I can’t get a job?”

  Amy continues to rant, and I feel some of my animosity toward her deflating. This girl is just sad.

  “Where is your God when I get kicked out of one more apartment?”

  “I’ll go with you to the airport this afternoon,” James says. “If you leave us a number, I’ll call you with your mom’s test results.”

  “Don’t bother. I’m done with this.” Amy storms out of the living room. The three of us follow her. She stops at the front door. “I’m your daughter,” she says through her tears. “Your daughter.”

  The door slams.

  Nobody moves.

  Amy’s car starts up and roars out of the drive.

  “Who’s ready for a tea party?” Maxine glides down the stairs. A feather boa drapes her neck and floats behind her.

  No one answers.

  “What?” She pops a pink bubble. “Did I miss something?”

  “I talked to Nash today.” Frances kicks off her shoes and lounges on Maxine’s bed.

  “You called him?”

  “Yes. My cover story was that I needed to talk to him about our project.”

  “Frances, I’m shocked.” I grin. “And totally proud. How did it go?”

  “Terrible. First of all, I got nervous. And I just started spewing out whatever was in my head. And when I’m nervous, I usually try to think of random facts and trivia . . . So that’s what came out.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t notice. It was a good reminder for him how smart you are.”