by Sue Grafton
Liza went to the phone in the hall and dialed Kathy’s number. Mrs. Cramer picked up.
“Hi, Mrs. Cramer? This is Liza. Is Kathy home?”
“Just a moment.” She put a hand across the mouthpiece and Liza could hear her holler up to the second floor. “Kathy? Liza’s on the phone.”
There was a long pause while Kathy clumped down the stairs. “Hope you had a good birthday,” Mrs. Cramer remarked while they waited.
“I did. Thanks.”
“Here she is.”
Kathy took the handset and said, “Hello,” in a voice that was dead and remote.
“Hi. I called to say thanks for the bath powder. It’s really nice.”
“You’re welcome.” Even the two words sounded snippy and clipped.
“Is something wrong?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Kathy, if something’s bothering you, just tell me.”
“Well, where were you? That’s what’s bothering me. We had a date.”
“We did?”
“Yesss. This afternoon. My mother was supposed to take us to the five-and-dime…”
Liza could feel the cold envelop her body as Kathy went on in her martyred, accusatory tone. “We were supposed to pick out a pattern and fabric so we could sew matching skirts and weskits for our new fall wardrobe. Don’t you remember?”
“I remember you mentioned it, but that was weeks ago and you never said what day.”
“Because it was so obvious. It was for your birthday, Liza. I didn’t think I had to spell it out. We drove over to pick you up for lunch and you were gone. Your mom didn’t even know where you were.”
“I’m sorry. I forgot—”
“How could you forget? We always spend our birthdays together. It’s traditional.”
“We’ve done it twice,” Liza said. She knew she’d pay for the sass, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Well, I guess it means more to me than to you,” Kathy said.
Liza couldn’t think of a response so she said nothing.
“So where did you go?” Kathy asked.
“No place in particular. Just out.”
“I know you were out. I’m asking where.”
“Why do you care?” Liza couldn’t believe she was being so ornery, but she was sick of catering to Kathy’s moods.
“I care, Liza, because I want to know what’s so important you had to stand me up.”
“I didn’t stand you up. I forgot, okay?”
“I know you forgot. You already told me that a hundred times! You don’t have to rub it in.”
“Why are you so mad? It was an honest mistake.”
“I’m not mad. Why should I be mad? I asked for an explanation. Since you were so rude as to violate our agreement, I think you owe me one.”
Liza felt her temper climb, Kathy having neatly maneuvered her into a corner. If she told her where she’d been, Kathy would raise a big stink or she’d sulk for days, or she’d do both, but in no way would she ever leave the subject alone. Liza had seen it before. Once someone made Kathy mad, she never let ’em off the hook. “I was busy.”
“Doing what?” Kathy said, exasperated.
“What difference does it make?”
“In other words, you won’t tell. Thanks so much. I’d never do anything that horrible to you—”
“Oh, stop exaggerating. It’s not horrible.”
“I thought we were best friends.”
“I didn’t say we weren’t.”
“But that’s not how you treat a best friend—keeping secrets and being mean.”
“I’m not being mean.”
“You know what? That’s the difference between us, what you just said. You can’t admit the truth. Moral Rearmament has made me a better person, but Absolute Unselfishness doesn’t mean a thing to you. It’s whatever you want, whatever you feel like doing, and then you lie about it afterward…”
Liza said, “I have to go. My mom’s calling me.”
Kathy’s voice had a quaver now. “You know what? Absolute Honesty? You hurt me. Deeply. All week long, I looked forward to seeing you. It was going to be the bright spot of my day. Put yourself in my place and think how I felt when I heard you hadn’t even left a note.”
“Kathy, it’s not like I did it on purpose. I made a mistake.”
“Then why didn’t you call me when you got home?”
“That’s what I’m doing. I’m on the phone. I’m calling you. What else could this be?”
“Oh sure, hours later.”
“I just now walked in the door!”
“You were gone all day?”
“Why are you making such a fuss?”
“I’m making a fuss? So now it’s my fault?”
“I didn’t say it was your fault, but you don’t have to make such a big deal of it. You do things without me. Why can’t I do one tiny thing without you?”
“Fine. Be that way. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
Liza could feel herself crumble. This would go on for the rest of her life unless she found a way out. “Look, I’m really sorry, okay? I apologize.”
There was a momentary silence. Kathy didn’t like giving up the power position. “Do you mean that?”
“I do. Sincerely. I didn’t want to say where I was because it had to do with my mom and her…you know…her problem.”
“Oh you poor thing. Why didn’t you say so?”
“I was embarrassed. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“Of course. I completely understand. But really, if you’d confided in me, we could have avoided this misunderstanding.”
“Next time I will. I’m sorry I wasn’t completely honest with you.”
“That’s all right. Liza, it’s not your fault what she is.”
“I appreciate your being so nice about it.” Having capitulated, why not grovel as well?
“So what time do you want to go to the park tomorrow night? You think six is too early? I made some deviled eggs. I thought we could take a picnic.”
Liza was at a loss for words.
“Liza?”
“I’m here. The problem is I can’t go. That’s another reason I called. My mom’s kind of sick and I have to stay home because she needs me.”
“But won’t she be better tomorrow?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t think so. She doesn’t look good.”
“You can’t even leave her for an hour?”
“I better not.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know. I’m calling the doctor as soon as I hang up from you. She’s been sick all day so it might be serious.”
“You want me to come keep you company? I don’t mind skipping the fireworks. We could make popcorn.”
“We better not. She could be contagious. She’s calling me right now so I gotta go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure. I hope she feels better.”
“Me too.”
When Liza placed the handset back in the cradle, the small of her back was damp. She played the conversation over and over in her mind, reconstructing Kathy’s tone, wishing she’d been quicker on the draw when Kathy tried to shoot her down. She shouldn’t have lied about her mom, but what else could she do? She didn’t see how Kathy would ever find out. She knew Kathy was full of pity for her because of her mother’s drinking and often told her she prayed for her in church, citing Absolute Love. Didn’t feel like love to Liza, but what did she know?
She decided to fix her mother an early supper, since she and Ty were going out that night. She couldn’t wait to tell him all the stuff Kathy said. He didn’t like Kathy in the first place and he’d be tickled to hear she’d finally stood up to her. For as long as she had. You couldn’t handle everything at once.
She set the water on to boil for the Minute Rice and then opened a can of Libby’s corn and a can of Libby’s green beans. She tried to make sure her mother got a balanced meal, but half the time her mother didn�
��t want to eat, no matter what it was. Liza had fixed Spam two nights before, so she took the chunk out of the refrigerator and cut a fresh slice, which she fried in oleo. Once the meal was fully prepared, she arranged everything on a tray, added a paper napkin and utensils, and took it into the living room. Her mother was dead to the world, cigarette still burning in the ashtray. Liza put it out and took the dinner tray back to the kitchen. She set it on the counter where her mother would see it later. Then she washed the pots and pans and put them away.
Ty picked her up at 9:00, driving his uncle’s truck, which he did whenever he could cadge it. When she got in, he handed her a package with a bow clumsily affixed. “What’s this,” she asked, taking out a bottle of what looked like Champagne.
“Cold Duck. I got it at the minimart so we could celebrate. Happy birthday.”
“You bought alcohol?”
“I look like I’m twenty-one so I do it all the time. The guy never even carded me.”
“You better hope your aunt doesn’t find out.”
He smiled, flashing white teeth and dimples. “I got something else for you too, but that’s for later.”
Liza smiled, cheeks burning. She’d never received a present from a boy. Right away, she hoped for an ID bracelet, engraved with both their names, something to commemorate their love.
They drove out to the Tanner property as they had on two previous occasions. They couldn’t very well ride around town. If the two were seen together, he’d be in trouble with his aunt.
The new road had been graded, but only partially paved. A trench had been dug to form a culvert, and lengths of corrugated pipe had been brought in by crane. Now as Ty swung off the frontage road, they could see that a temporary Road Closed sign had been set up, blocking access. A line of orange cones ran across the road to further discourage traffic, and a No Trespass sign had been posted. Guess they meant business. Since the Fourth fell on a Saturday, government offices were closed on Friday, the day before. No court, no mail delivery, no library, and no banks. The county road crew had apparently been given the three-day weekend as well.
Ty drove around the barrier, passing the dirt mounds and heavy equipment. A bulldozer seemed to glow in the fading light of day. He’d scoped out the house and grounds in advance of their first visit and discovered the open shed he now used to conceal his pickup. He helped her out of the passenger side, leading her by the hand as far as the expansive wooden porch that ran along the back of the house. Faintly, in the distance, they could hear the hush of passing cars out on the 101.
He said, “Hang on a sec.” He went back to the truck and returned moments later with a bundle under one arm. “Sleeping bag,” he said. He kept a hand on her back, guiding her as they made their way through the darkened kitchen and up the servants’ stairs. The house was stuffy after being closed up for so long. Once they reached the master bedroom at the front of the house, Ty opened all the windows to let the heat out. The breeze coming in across the sill was warm, but at least it created some circulation. He laid out the bulky sleeping bag and stretched out a hand, pulling her down beside him.
He opened the bottle of Cold Duck and offered her the first swig. It tasted better than she expected, and she liked how warm and fuzzy it was making her feel. They passed the bottle back and forth until half of it was gone. She lay on one side, head propped on her hand while they talked in whispers. She started to tell him about Kathy, but he kept interrupting her with kisses and deep, meaningful looks. He said, “Your present. I almost forgot.”
He took out a small jar of Vaseline, holding it out to her with a smile.
“What’s that for?”
“You know. Just in case.”
Liza felt her stomach knot and she sat up. “I don’t think we should do this. It’s not a good idea.”
“Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to decide anything right now. It’s completely up to you,” he said. He pulled her down beside him and kissed her again. By now they’d progressed from the innocent petting of their early dates into more treacherous territory, and Ty took it as a given that each time they were together they’d pick up where they left off. He was already intent on the business of stripping her down. Liza wasn’t entirely willing, but she knew she couldn’t refuse. The kissing did feel good, and she was lucky he’d chosen her when any other girl in school would be happy to take her place. She found herself floating in the moment, carried along by his determination and her own inability to resist. In the back of her mind, a tiny voice was whispering that his insistence and Kathy’s bullying weren’t all that different, but the Cold Duck had made her feel sleepy and too relaxed to care. Easier to give in than to raise any more objections. It’s not like it wasn’t nice.
He was kissing her bare boob when she saw a flash of headlights swing across the ceiling. Down below, gravel crunched, the vehicle so close to the house they could hear the driver pulling on his brake. Liza gasped and broke free, scrambling to her hands and knees as the car door slammed. “Oh my lord, someone’s here!”
Ty crawled over to the window and peered out. “Don’t panic. It’s fine. He isn’t coming this way.”
Liza eased in behind him, her eyes just above sill level. The driver was on the far side of the vehicle, which was ten yards away. She picked up the smell of smoke before she saw the speck of red hot ember at the end of his cigarette. Liza said, “Who is that?”
“He must be a security guard. Looks like he’s checking the equipment.”
“We gotta get out of here.” She crawled back to the sleeping bag and snatched up her clothing, piling her shoes on top. Ty pulled on his jeans and they scurried across the room to the walk-in linen closet, where they shut themselves in. They finished dressing in haste, Liza feeling so anxious she nearly wet her pants. Ty looked over at her, saying, “You okay?”
“What if he sees the truck? He’ll know someone’s here.”
Ty opened the closet door and peered around the frame. The house was dark, but she could make out his profile. So beautiful. He motioned to her and the two emerged from their hiding place. Liza listened intently but picked up no sounds of activity inside the house itself. Ty reached for her hand and the two eased over to the window and peered out again. Liza could see the swinging beam of a flashlight as the fellow walked across the road, adjusting cones as he went.
Ty said, “Let’s move it. I think we can make it to the truck before he turns around and comes back.”
They picked their way out of the room and tiptoed along the corridor until they reached the back stairs and started down. Liza nearly fell over Ty, not realizing he’d stopped to listen again. Nothing. Liza held on to his T-shirt as they passed the butler’s pantry and from there traversed the cavernous kitchen, which was bathed in soft gray light. The moon, in its last quarter, was visible through one of the kitchen windows.
Outside they race-walked across the grass to the shed. Ty felt his way down the length of the truck until he could open the driver’s-side door. Liza climbed in first and crawled across the seat to make room for him. Ty climbed in after her and slid under the wheel. He pulled the door shut without slamming it, careful not to make a sound. They sat then, scarcely daring to breathe. Ty torqued himself around, staring out the rear window at the darkened yard. The width and breadth of the house blocked all view of the front, but there was an illusion of hearing more acutely when one stared at the source.
Liza said, “Do you think we should risk it?”
“Not yet.”
Liza had a sudden thought and put a hand on his arm. “We forgot the sleeping bag!”
“Don’t worry about it. We can pick it up next time.”
“But what if he comes across it?”
Ty held a finger to his lips and they fell silent again. Ten long minutes passed and then they heard the grumbling of one of the big machines, engine grinding to life, shattering the stillness. When the racket continued, Ty took advantage of the noise to cover the starting of his truck. He backed o
ut of the shed and crept along the service road with his headlights out.
When they cleared the house, they could see a shape as lumbering as a tank crawling in the opposite direction. Ty continued down the service road with Liza praying he wouldn’t steer them into a tree. Finally, he felt safe enough to turn on his fog lights, which provided sufficient illumination for their agonizingly slow escape.
Saturday morning, the Fourth, Liza called the Cramer house. She hoped to have a conversation with Kathy in which she could casually mention her mother’s illness to reinforce the fib. Telling the same lie more than once made it seem more real. Mrs. Cramer answered and said Kathy really wasn’t able to come to the phone. Her voice was chilly, and Liza knew Kathy had blabbed to her about their fight. “Well, would you tell her I called?”
“Of course.”
Liza didn’t see how Kathy would ever find out she was babysitting for Violet instead of staying at home with her mother as she’d claimed. Ty had begged her to let him come over to the Sullivans’ and keep her company and, of course, she’d agreed. Early in the afternoon she wandered over to Violet’s. Foley was off somewhere, and Liza was hoping she and Violet could have a heart-to-heart talk. Unfortunately, Daisy was in the bedroom, playing with her paper dolls, and it didn’t seem advisable, given the subject matter. She’d hung out for a while and then she’d gone home. She sat on the front porch in an old aluminum lawn chair, hoping Kathy would pass the house and see her there.
By 6:15 she was back at the Sullivans’, minding Daisy in the bathtub while Violet and the yapping Pomeranian went out the door. She made sure Daisy dried herself and got in her pj’s. They sat at the kitchen table and ate vanilla ice cream until 8:15. Daisy was easily confused about telling time, so Liza said it was 9:00 and marched her off to bed. Liza gave her the pill Violet’d left and watched as Daisy swallowed it with half a glass of milk. Twenty minutes later she was safely tucked in bed and limp with sleep.
Liza went out the back door and sat down in one of the two lawn chairs that overlooked a scruffy patch of grass. The wooden fence was less than six feet tall, but a thick tangle of honeysuckle spilled over the top, obscuring her view of the street. It was hot and her T-shirt was sticking to her back. She went inside again and sat in the living room, where she turned off the overhead light and let the table fan blow across her face.