Dear Tyler,
I’m sorry, but I can’t possibly stay here. You are a good dad to the kids, and I know they will be much better off with you. I’ll forward you the address of where I’m living once I get settled in case you change your mind.
Love,
Lana
Kaki swallowed the vodka she held in her mouth, and re-read the letter. She never had any idea that Lana would consider going to California without her father.
Should she wake her dad and tell him? If she did that, Damien would show up and she wouldn’t be out there. He’d be furious. No, if Lana was really that unhappy and wanted to leave, who was she to mess with that?
Kaki slipped the paper back, downed the rest of the vodka, and slid off the stool. As she made her way to the front door, the high heels she wore caused her ankle to collapse. “Ow!” She whispered, fighting the urge to cry out.
She limped the rest of the way and slipped out.
Lana was sitting on the front stoop. Her head whipped around, and her eyes met with Kaki’s.
With a sense of dread and a flash of fear that she’d been caught, Kaki froze. But then she saw the exact same emotion reflected in her stepmother’s eyes.
Lana‘s mouth opened as though she might say something. Her suitcase sat next to her.
Kaki figured she was either deciding whether or not to go or waiting on a cab. Kaki simply turned to the door and placed her key in the lock.
Kaki and Lana stared at one another for a few more seconds.
Then Kaki passed Lana’s seated form and wordlessly clomped down the cement steps in red heels that suddenly felt too high. She teetered into the street where Damien’s car—pounding with rap music—pulled up and stopped. Looking at Lana one last time, Kaki entered the car and stared out the window at her stepmother’s still seated form.
This wasn’t her life anymore. Her father and Lana weren’t her business anymore. As she’d looked into Lana’s eyes for those few moments, she’d glimpsed regret, sadness, and fear. But there was also a silent understanding exchanged between them. There was common ground after all.
~*~
Kaki didn’t return home until ten that morning. It was so late, in fact, that she figured her father might already be up. If he was, he would have seen the note Lana had left. Kaki couldn’t walk through the front door now. He would know she had been out all night. It was better to wait until around noon. Then she could make up some story about having gone out early—over to Molly and Josh’s to see the puppies. Yes, that was it!
Kaki assessed her clothing. Leggings and a long sweater. Not too bad today. Only the high heels looked out of place. Maybe her makeup wasn’t too smeared. Hopefully Molly would offer her some coffee. She knocked on the door. A dog bark sounded from within. A few seconds later, she heard Molly approaching the door.
“Hi!” Molly held onto Trixie’s sparkly pink collar to keep her from rushing out of the door and flinging herself at Kaki’s knees.
“Hi,” Kaki squatted down, reaching over the threshold to pet Trixie.
The dog squirmed against Molly’s handhold on her collar.
“Do you want to come in and see the puppies?”
“Sure.”
Once in the entry hall, Kaki squatted once again, focusing her affection on Trixie, stroking her head. The little dog soaked up the attention like a sponge.
“Come on in and sit down,” Molly offered. “If I’d known you were coming, I would have baked some cinnamon rolls or something for New Year’s Day. Your dad and Lana still asleep?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Kaki’s voice shook. Who knew what would happen once her dad read that note?
“Do you want some tea or something?” She wished Molly had offered coffee, but tea was better than nothing.
“OK.”
Molly’s phone buzzed against the granite of the kitchen countertop. “Oh, it’s from Josh. He’s on his way home from church. He went alone today. I wasn’t feeling all that well. Something I ate last night. Anyway, he says he’s stopping off at the store on the way home. If you’d rather have something else to drink, I can ask him to pick up something. Apple juice? Soda?”
Kaki shook her head. “No. Tea is fine. I like tea.”
Molly turned on the electric kettle and opened her pantry door where she began dismantling the wall formed with boxes of assorted teas. “Well, let’s see. I’ve got herbal tea, black tea, chai tea…which kind do you like?”
“Chai tea’s good,” Kaki ran her fingers nervously over the granite countertop.
Molly pulled one from the packaging. “Do you prefer a tall mug, a glass mug, a short mug? Mugs with pictures or plain?”
Kaki laughed. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever.”
Molly handed her a Christmas mug with a red ribbon emblazoned across the ceramic.
Kaki flattened her hand against the black, sparkling granite. “Lana wants to replace our countertops. She says butcher block countertops are in now.”
“Well, I have seen designers on TV using that type of countertop recently. Trends change, I guess.”
Trixie trotted through the kitchen and over to the area sectioned off with baby gates. Newspapers lined the floor, and a pink dog bed filled with blankets suddenly came to life as little furry bodies squirmed within. Trixie stood, then turned several times before flopping down amongst their mewling mouths.
“Oh, so this is where the puppies are.” Kaki moved toward the pen.
The puppies were unseeing and helpless—their mouths open with hunger and want as they wriggled and scooted like miniature seals, attempting to attach to Trixie’s food supply.
Kaki’s heart squeezed. “Aw…they’re so cute!”
Molly looked down at the puppies proudly. “They’re hungry. Feeding time.”
There were five of them—a white one, a black one, and three fawn-colored ones. Their funny little chirping noises and the way they crawled up to Trixie in their innocent need made her ache to hold one. But she was content to watch them. They were better off where they were. Safer.
“You going to take one when they’re weaned?” Molly asked.
Something inside of Kaki wrenched. She wanted a dog—she really wanted a dog. But not if she endangered them. Damien killed dogs—he’d threatened to kill her whole family, for that matter. Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked down at the tiny puppies. They were safer with Molly and Josh. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not sure what my dad and Lana would say.”
“So how’s everything going over there now that Brandon’s back home?” Molly asked.
Kaki shrugged. “It’s OK, I guess.” She longed to tell Molly what was really going on, but she’d stick to her original plan. Molly would know soon enough anyway.
“How’s your dad coping?”
“Um, I guess he’s OK. I don’t know. I haven’t really been staying there much lately.”
Molly moved back to where the electric kettle started to steam and leaned against the countertop. “So how are you doing?” Molly was obviously fishing for information—most likely out of concern.
“I’m OK, I guess. I’m kind of having a hard time keeping up in my classes right now.”
“Have you seen your guidance counselor about how you’re feeling?”
Kaki cringed.
Molly really had reverted to teacher mode. If a student confessed to a family or an emotional problem, teachers automatically sent them to their guidance counselor.
“No, not really. I’m just handling stuff.”
The electric kettle hissed and squealed, and within seconds the click of the button signaled the water was ready. Kaki joined her at the island and looked on as Molly poured the boiling water over the tea bags.
“Do you want any milk or sugar in your tea?”
“Just sugar.” Kaki took the mug along with the packets of sugar.
“So, are you still seeing the guy?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that still going OK?”
“
Yeah.” Kaki would have to be careful what she said about Damien. As much as she wanted to tell someone, Molly Wolf was not the person. She was an adult, her husband was a cop, and she was friends with her dad.
“Does your dad like him?”
“He doesn’t really know about him.”
“I see.”
“He’s like…older and stuff. It’s just better if they don’t know about him.” Kaki breathed in the spices of the tea as the steam curled around her face. That was probably enough said now.
Her gaze darted to a collection of photos affixed to the refrigerator with magnets. “Is that one from your wedding?” Kaki slid off the stool and moved in to have a closer look. In one of the photos, Molly and Josh were standing under an arbor decorated with pink and white flowers—Josh in his black tuxedo and Molly in her dress. They were clasping one another, their cheeks pushed together. “You look like a princess in that dress.”
Molly laughed. “It was a great day.”
Kaki stared at the photo again. “It looks so romantic. How long have you been married?”
“Almost seven years.”
“Wow. That’s a long time.” She couldn’t imagine being with Damien for seven years. She’d probably be dead by then.
“Yep. And we married late. I was thirty-two when we got married. By that time, I thought I’d never get married.”
Kaki stared intently at the photo as though trying to memorize the scene, the feeling—a memory she’d never experienced. “I was six when Lana married my dad. It was at some really ritzy place. That’s all I remember. And I ate ham and cheese crepes.” Her heart panged as she remembered again that Lana was gone. She glanced up at the clock on the wall. Ten thirty. Surely her dad was up by now.
“Did your mom ever remarry?” Molly asked.
Kaki returned to the stool. “No. She wants to marry the guy she’s with now, but I don’t think he wants to.”
Molly pulled her dark braid over her shoulder. “Has your mom met your boyfriend?”
Kaki stared down at her nails and used the edge of her thumb to pick at the cuticle on her middle finger. Painted blue, but the paint was coming off. “No. But she knows about him.”
“What does she think about you seeing an older guy?”
“She said he’s like, a ‘bad boy,’” Her fingers curved in the air, symbolizing quotation marks to emphasize the label. “Her last boyfriend was a bad boy, too, and I guess she doesn’t want me in that kind of relationship.”
“You know, your mom could be right. There are some really good guys out there, and you don’t have to settle for someone who doesn’t treat you right. My mom took up with bad boys. And it didn’t end well for her.”
Kaki focused on her nails once again. That was Molly’s mother, though—not her. She and Damien had a different relationship. “My boyfriend…he loves me, you know? And I love him. He pays for me to get my nails done and stuff. I don’t know…he just buys me a lot of stuff all the time. He bought me this phone,” she said, holding up her cell phone covered by a pink and gold glittery shell. “He gives me money sometimes, and he takes me out to eat at nice places.” Although, he hadn’t been doing that recently. And most people probably wouldn’t see forcing your girlfriend to help bury her dead friend as a top boyfriend quality.
And Sydney’s body was still there…in the woods. Right where they’d left her. Would she just stay out there? Had no one really started looking for her? Reported her missing or anything?
Silence overtook the room.
Kaki looked over at Trixie, now sleeping in her bed, her furry, spear-like tail tucked around the outside of her legs as her sides rose and fell rhythmically. All of the puppies were cuddled up next to her.
There was a sudden, sharp knock on the door followed by the doorbell ringing.
Kaki’s heart jolted. She followed Molly to the door, and as it opened, she glimpsed her father’s face—pale with anxiety, looking as though it had aged overnight. The words appeared to stick in his throat when he saw her.
“Katherine? What…”
“I came over to see the puppies,” she said quickly.
“OK, fine. Look, something has happened…and I need…well, Lana’s not here, too, is she?” His eyes were hopeful.
Molly shook her head. “No.”
He sighed and his head drooped. “OK. Well, she’s gone. I guess I had hoped she hadn’t really done it…”
Molly held out her hands. “Deep breaths. OK. Now what’s going on?” Stepping back from the doorway, she motioned for him to come inside, and while the trio stood in the foyer, he inhaled and exhaled, his eyes closed.
“Lana’s gone. She left last night or early this morning sometime. I don’t know. Left a note on the kitchen counter. She’s gone to California.”
“What? She just left? With the kids?”
“No.” He swallowed. “She didn’t take the kids. I don’t know. I guess she just had her heart set on going and…” He bowed his head and his hand covered his face. His shoulders shook with silent sobs.
Kaki’s heart sank. She’d never seen her dad in such a state.
“Oh, Tyler. I’m so, so sorry. But don’t you think she’ll come back? I mean, I think she’ll realize what a bad decision this was, and—”
“No, I don’t think so.” He sniffed and ran his hand under his nose. “Anyway, Katherine, I could really use you back over at the house to watch Micah and Celia while I try to make some phone calls and see what’s going on.”
“OK.”
She thanked Molly for the tea and followed her dad back to the house where Celia was screaming and Micah was stoically sitting beside her. Her dad immediately got on his cell phone and began leaving the same message with everyone he knew: “If you hear from her, please call me right away.”
Kaki suddenly wished she could just crawl into her bed.
But she still had two little blue pills stashed away for just such an occasion.
21
Tyler
Thursday, January 5
How had his entire family disintegrated right before his eyes? Tyler saw nothing but devastation. Lana was gone—no one had heard from her, and her cell phone went straight to voice mail. He had left numerous messages. How could she leave her children? But he had to keep going.
Micah and Celia were shuffled between his parents’ home in the day and his at night, just as Brandon and Katherine were shuffled between his house and Christina’s.
During Brandon’s first few counseling sessions, Tyler had remained in the room. There hadn’t been a lot of revelation during those meetings. Mainly they had discussed family issues, living arrangements, and family dynamics. Establishing the baseline was what Nick called it.
Nick Melioni, a relatively new member of their church’s counseling staff, was a young guy in his early thirties. He was friendly and connected easily with the youth at the church. He often volunteered with their youth groups, and his easy-going, straight-shooting demeanor seemed to put Brandon at ease. Smiling, welcoming, reassuring, dressed in casual jeans, T-shirt, and tennis shoes, Nick opened them in a prayer and asked Brandon questions about his favorite football teams, video games, and music. Then he gently peeled back the shell to reveal the true reasons behind their need for help.
“Let’s start out hearing from you, Brandon.” Nick leaned forward, his hands locked between his open knees. “You wanna tell me a little about what’s going on with you this week?”
Brandon was obviously reluctant to say anything at first. His responses were all “fine” and “OK” and “not much.” But this week, they had Lana’s absence to add to the mix.
“How are you dealing with that?” Nick asked Brandon.
Brandon shrugged. “OK, I guess.”
“We’re doing the best we can,” Tyler said. “It was completely unexpected. A shock to us all.”
Nick sat back, knitting his fingers together. “Hey, Dad? Would you mind stepping outside for a few minutes to let Brandon and I
talk alone?”
Tyler was a little surprised. “Sure, sure.” He moved outside, shutting the door behind him. But he lingered there, standing close enough to hear their muted voices. He stopped just short of pressing his ear against the closed door, fearful that a member of staff might see him.
Within minutes, Brandon was actually talking—offering information freely. Well, how about that? Tyler practically had to threaten his son with starvation and solitary confinement to get him to say anything. Now here he was, answering question after question with hardly any prompting—rolling out his whole life story…for a stranger.
“How long have you been using pornography, Brandon?” Nick asked.
“Since I was like, eleven.”
Brandon revealed the details of a child from a divorced home, shuffled back and forth, never knowing where he was going to be one night to another. Homework at one house, permission slips at another. “And Dad’s got his own family. He’s got two other kids, Micah and Celia. Katherine and I just don’t really count anymore.”
Tyler’s breath caught in his throat.
“So…you feel you don’t matter?”
“Not really. I mean, he never asks us any questions or anything. Only when he’s yelling at us for grades or something like that. Otherwise, it’s just kind of like we’re not even there.”
The words hit Tyler like a stone between the eyes. He’d been one of those dads. The kind who neglected their kids because they were too busy with work or the gym or…he cringed at the sudden image of himself, sitting in front of the computer staring at naked women. And then it came to him: he hadn’t just neglected his kids, he’d neglected Lana too.
“Why don’t we ask your dad to come back in? Could we ask him to join this conversation? Would that be all right with you?”
“I…guess,” Brandon answered, his voice halting.
“Jesus,” Tyler breathed, “make me worthy of my children. Cleanse my heart. Help me, Lord. Help me.” His eyes were wet as Nick called him back into the room.
Brandon looked at him—his expression fractured by fear and dread. Tyler sat in the chair beside Brandon. He hesitated before he slung his arm across his son’s shoulders and squeezed him into a side hug.
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