“Maybe your Mama has something in her bedroom. You know she locks that place up and gets mad if you go in her room,” Lindy said with a sharp raise of her eyebrow. “We should look to see what she’s hiding in there.”
She had a point. Mama was very secretive about her bedroom and never let me in there. “How am I gonna get in there, Lindy? You know she never leaves the house.”
“She never leaves the house?” Carson asked. “You’re joking, right? She’s gotta leave the house at some point.”
Lindy snorted. “Oh, Carson doesn’t know about your bat-shit crazy mama?”
Thanks Lindy.
“I hadn’t mentioned,” I mumbled, suddenly fascinated by the sole peeling off of my shoe.
Lindy laughed again. “Oh well, Kennedy’s mama—”
“Why don’t you let Kennedy tell me?” Carson suggested, cutting off Lindy’s gossip.
I smiled at him, not sure whether to be grateful or not. Explaining Mama’s “ailment” wasn’t on my top ten list of favorite conversations. If I explained Mama, would Carson think her crazy was hereditary and I was also a couple sandwiches shy of a picnic?
“She’s agoraphobic,” I said finally, not meeting Carson’s eye.
“Oh,” came Carson’s reply. And then, “My daddy doesn’t like to go out too much either.”
I glanced up hopefully. Maybe he understood?
Lindy corrected him, crushing my hopes. “Oh no, you don’t get it. Kennedy’s mama doesn’t leave the house. I’ve never even seen her outside.” She rolled her eyes at Carson conspiratorially. “Not even an arm out the door to get the mail from the mailbox.”
“Really?” Carson wrinkled up his brow on his otherwise flawless face. I sucked in my breath, just waiting. This was it. He was gonna see my mama as a murdering weirdo recluse and he wasn’t gonna want to have anything to do with her daughter. He’d figure that instead of waiting for me to snap and go crazy like Mama, he was gonna run for the hills, never to be seen again. I just knew it.
“Yeah, Kennedy has to do all the shopping and she walks everywhere.” Lindy said “walks” in the same tone one might mention syphilis. She was appalled by my walking and had asked me several times why I wasn’t skinnier if I walked so much.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the words. I think you’re a great girl Kennedy, but I don’t think we can be friends. I knew this story; I saw it every day. The looks of pity I got from the neighbors (minus Mrs. Harris) and the whispers I got at school behind my back. The only person (besides good old Mrs. Harris) that didn’t seem to care, was Lindy. And she basically just used it as ammunition against me whenever I would buck her rules or disagree with her. She would remind me what a weirdo my mama was and how she was single-handedly keeping me from ending up just like her.
So I waited for that other shoe to drop. But instead, I felt Carson’s hand slip into mine. “That’s sad. It must be really rough for you to have to do everything outside the house.”
I blinked several times as I stared at him. Then, I stared at his hand. He was holding my hand! He wasn’t running! He had actually reached across Lindy’s lap and grabbed my hand.
Lindy scowled as she stood, pushing apart our hands. “Well, we need to come up with a plan to get into your mama’s bedroom then. She’s never gonna just let us in there.” She wandered toward the sidewalk, completely expecting us to follow her. Carson and I glanced at each other and shrugged simultaneously.
“What do you think we’re gonna find in Mama’s bedroom, Lindy?” I really hoped she didn’t try to be funny and suggest my mama had sex toys or the latest installment of Kama Sutra in her bedroom.
“Info about your dead daddy. You know, the reason someone would try to steal his identity.” She spun on her heels and raised her smoky eye at me. “The real reason you moved to Novella. The reason she doesn’t leave the house.”
She was causing my skin to prickle, even in the heat. “Stop it,” I muttered, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jean shorts.
“Am I scaring you?” Lindy asked, deliriously happy at that prospect.
I pulled one hand out of my pocket and waved toward the street. “No, I—”
Carson surprised me by grabbing my hand. Lindy’s eyes widened as she glanced from my hand to Carson’s. And then the scowl was back. “Let’s just figure out how we’re getting in there,” she huffed, stomping off.
SEVENTEEN
We approached the house from the direction of the library. Carson I both stopped in our tracks—the house looked unusually creepy in the daytime. A storm was brewing—we could hear thunder rumbling in the distance.
Lindy was still storming ahead like Grant through Richmond. She turned when she realized we weren’t directly behind her. “What’s the matter with y’all?”
I shook my head, trying to shake the doom and gloom feeling I was getting. “What’s the plan, Lindy?”
“We’ll just go to your house and look in your mama’s room,” she said, eyes a rollin’.
“She’s not just gonna let us wander into her room—”
“We’ll go into your room and then sneak into hers,” Lindy said.
I glanced at Carson. I had never had a boy in my room before. Would Mama allow Carson in my room? Even if Lindy was there?
“I don’t think that’ll work,” Carson said. “I think we need to create a diversion so that she doesn’t realize we’re snooping.”
“A der—what?” Lindy asked, scrunching up her wrinkle-free forehead.
“We have to distract her,” I explained, glancing at Carson. He was rolling his own eyes. Okay, note to self—he doesn’t like them dumb.
“I think you should sneak into the bedroom, and Kennedy and I will distract her mama,” Carson said, pointing to Lindy.
“How am I gonna do that?” Lindy asked, now gazing at herself on her cell phone screen. “Ugh, I need to get some more color,” she said off-handedly.
“She’s a real winner,” Carson whispered to me. I nodded in agreement.
Lindy shoved her phone back into her pocket. “She’s gonna notice if I disappear. Kennedy’s mama loves me.”
I almost snorted. This couldn’t be further from the truth.
“You could climb in through my bedroom window,” I said. “That way she won’t even know you’re there.”
“How am I gonna get up to your bedroom window?” Lindy asked.
“The same way I got out last night. Climb the tree.”
“You snuck out?” Lindy eyed me suspiciously. Oops. I forgotten to mention that to her, hadn’t I?
“You snuck out to meet him?” she practically spat.
I opened my mouth to reply, when Carson draped his arm over my shoulder. “Yeah, she snuck out to meet me. Girlfriends sneak out to meet their boyfriends when they don’t want nosy friends around. Got a problem with that?”
Lindy clamped her mouth shut, while mine fell open.
Girlfriend? Did he say girlfriend? I must be hearing things.
“Fine,” Lindy said, pursing her Cherry Berry glossed lips closed. “You better distract her good.” She poked Carson in the chest with venom. Then she turned on her heel and stomped off in the direction of my backyard.
We stared after her for a minute before Carson shrugged and said, “Well, we better go see your mama.”
When we reached the front door, I fished my key out of my pocket. I went to stick it in the keyhole, but I paused in mid-air. I had never brought a boy home before. I had certainly never brought anyone home on a day I told my mama about there being a body in the basement. How would she act? Weirder than usual? I was suddenly not sure if this was a great idea.
Unfortunately, I had no time to ponder whether I should go through with it or not, because the door flew open in my face.
Mama stood there, bedraggled-looking hair, full of cobwebs, dirt smudged on her cheeks. On her hands were a pair of yellow rubber gloves.
“Kennedy!” she gasped, obviously shocked to see me on my own fron
t steps. Her eyes darted between me and Carson. “I’ve been trying to call you, Kennedy.” She inhaled sharply, like she was going to start crying any second. “Why didn’t you answer?”
“I was at the library,” I said, offering her a timid smile. “This is Carson.”
Mama’s eyes grew wide and frightened. If I’d thought my mama was crazy before, she looked like a certifiable lunatic now.
“What are you doing, Kennedy?” Her voice rose so high you would have thought an elephant was standing on her toes.
“What are you doing, Mama?” I asked, staring down at her rubber gloves. The faint smell of bleach reached my nose.
“Oh, just cleaning!” she practically sang out, forcing a smile. She was nervously picking at the fingertips of the gloves.
“Colt was thirsty.” I pointed to the dog who was actually panting at the moment. “I was going to get him a bowl of water.”
“I’ll get you a bowl of water for the dog. And maybe some sweet tea for you kids. Stay right here,” Mama instructed.
“Outside?” I stared at her. Why couldn’t we come in? Oh God, she didn’t drag the body up from the basement did she?
“Keep the door closed. Don’t want the heat to get in,” Mama warned as she slammed the door in our faces.
Carson and I looked at each other, wide-eyed.
“I guess we could sit on the swing,” I said, pointing.
“Um, good idea,” Carson replied. “Colt!” Colt rose off his hunches and trotted toward the swing, tongue still dripping out of his mouth. I was about to follow him when Mama came to the front door, tray in her hands. On top of the tray was a bowl of water, a pitcher full of sweet tea, and three glasses.
“Kennedy, could you come open the door for me?” she offered me a weak smile, her hands shaking so badly the ice in the pitcher rattled.
I opened the door and held out my hands to take the tray from her, but to my surprise, Mama stepped out onto the front porch.
“Mama? Are you okay?” I asked while grabbing her arm.
“I’m fine, Kennedy,” she replied, shaking off my arm and stepping over to Carson, big uneasy grin spreading across her face. She set the tray on the grass, her hands trembling like a drunk looking for her next drink. She sank down into the swing, knees practically knocking together.
“I didn’t want you guys inside and being overcome by the smell of bleach,” she explained, smiling tightly at Carson.
The smell of bleach, Mama? Or smell from the rotting corpse of a dead man?
I walked over to the swing with my eyes practically bulging out of my head. The sight of my mama out of the house was absolutely shocking, in more ways than one. The dim lighting of the house hid what I was able to see in the bright sunshine of the backyard. Her hair was graying at the scalp and in desperate need of a cut. Her fine lines and wrinkles had deepened and gave her a haggard appearance.
“Can you pour the sweet tea, Kennedy? I smell like bleach.” She held her now gloveless hands up.
Colt was pawing at the bowl, unable to get at it with the pitcher and glasses around it. I raised my eyebrows at her and placed the bowl on the ground for Colt to greedily lap up.
The woman had been voluntarily imprisoned in our home for well over a thousand days and today is the day she chooses to step foot outside the house? Why so brazen? Wasn’t she scared that well…whatever it was that she was frightened of, was going to happen if she left the house? The “whatever” that was keeping her there for three years now. Why did it not matter today?
I pondered the meaning of Mama’s bold act as I poured a glass of sweet tea and offered it to Carson.
“So, Carson, right?” Mama beamed as he accepted the glass from my hand. I nearly dropped the glass. How did she know his name?
“Yes,” Carson replied and then took a sip. “Wow, this is amazing.”
“Our lovely neighbor, Mrs. Harris, makes it,” Mama said. “Have you met Mrs. Harris yet? Kennedy tells me that you’re new in town.”
Kennedy told her no such thing! I eyed her suspiciously as I recalled the journal that I kept tucked between my mattress and box spring. The journal that detailed all that I knew about Carson. Did she read my journal?
“Yes, we just moved here about three weeks ago,” Carson replied. I poured Mama a glass of sweet tea and thrust it into her shaking hand.
“And you’ve made friends already?” she asked as she grasped the glass with both hands. The condensation building on the outside of the glass made it slippery, and I saw her trying to hold on tightly. I’m sure the trembling didn’t help. “And my little Kennedy, too. My how nice,” Mama gushed. I was certain she didn’t find it “nice” at all. Mama was downright suspicious of Carson for no damn good reason.
I sat down between Mama and Carson on the swing, nudging her out of the way. “Kennedy has been showing me around,” Carson said. “She’s the only person I know in town,” he added. He failed to mention Lindy.
“Oh, and a southern accent, too. Where y’all from?” Mama asked sweetly, bringing the glass to her lips.
“We’re from Texas, ma’am,” Carson told her after a sip of his drink.
Mama choked ever so slightly on her drink. I glanced up to see her face, but suddenly, we heard a crashing noise that seemed to come from the back of the house. It was followed by the tinkling of glass. All three of our heads jerked toward the noise. Lindy! Damn it, I forgot that the window was locked! I bet she found something to break it with.
“What was that?” Mama asked, rising unsteadily to her feet, panic all over her face. She shoved her glass of sweet tea at me.
Think quickly, Kennedy. Otherwise Mama will find Lindy before Lindy can even snoop around.
I grabbed Mama’s arm. “I think the Hunters are having new windows put in. They’ve been making quite the racket all week.”
“That sounded like it came from our backyard, Kennedy,” Mama said. “Maybe I should—”
I pulled her back down onto the swing. “It’s fine, Mama. I’ll go check. You drink your tea.” I started to stand and Mama grabbed my arm.
“No, no, I’m sure it’s coming from the Hunters’ house. They make a lot of noise all the time. They have four really young boys,” Mama told me and Carson, as if I wasn’t the one who told her about everyone in the neighborhood to begin with. “Those boys run amok. Their mama is never home.”
“She’s a nurse at the hospital, Mama. She works crazy hours.”
Mama rolled her eyes. “No excuse for not being home for your kids,” she said bitterly. “You have to make sacrifices for your kids.”
I stared at her for a second. Who was this woman? Why was she so angry today? Was she angry enough to. . .kill?
“So what do your folks do?” Mama turned to Carson, completely changing the subject.
“My mama was a veterinarian.”
“Oh that’s lovely. Does she work at the Novella Animal Hospital?”
Carson shook his head as he took another sip of his sweet tea. “No, ma’am. She died two years ago.”
Mama’s face clouded and I could tell she instantly regretted prying. I felt oddly triumphant even though I knew I shouldn’t.
“I’m so sorry,” Mama said, laying her hand on Carson’s arm. I shot her an evil look and she moved her hand back to her lap.
Carson shrugged. “It is what it is.”
Mama nodded, and I could tell she was resisting the urge to dab at the tears that were forming in the corner of her eyes. “Is your daddy a vet, too?”
Carson shook his head. “Nope. He’s a cop.”
Mama gasped quietly, the color draining completely out of her face entirely. Well, whatever color she had to begin with. Since she never went outside, she could probably play one of those vampires in those movies Lindy liked to go see—she didn’t even need make-up
“Mama, are you okay?” I asked. I reached for her glass which was precariously dripping sweet tea onto her leg.
“Oh, yes, yes,” Mama stammered,
steadying the glass. “I just remembered…I have to go shut off the crock pot. I think I turned it on high. And by golly, then it’ll be done way before suppertime. And we can’t have that now, can we?” She laughed nervously as rose to her feet. I glanced at the door. I sure hoped Lindy had found something before Mama came back into the house. “You guys stay out here.”
“Um, sure, Mama.” I felt around in my pocket for my phone. It was on vibrate. I hadn’t felt it—there were no messages from Lindy.
Mama waved timidly to us as she stepped into the house. I stuck my thumbnail into my mouth and began to chew. I really hoped she didn’t catch Lindy snooping. I had to pray that Lindy was smart enough to stay out of her way.
Carson and I looked at each other after the door was closed. “Well that was strange,” he remarked with his eyebrows raised. “Why’d she run off like that?”
“You told her that your daddy was cop,” I explained. When he still clearly did not understand what I was getting at, I further reiterated, “The body? In the cellar?”
Carson nodded solemnly. “Oh, yeah. Can’t forget about that body.”
“Gosh, how can you?” I asked while gulping down the last of my tea. I would never be able to forget that sight as long as I lived. Well, as long as I lived and I had a brain in my head that worked. “That vision is etched in my mind forever. I’ll probably have nightmares for years,” I managed to whisper.
With one arm draped over my shoulder, Carson pulled me close to his body. He was sweaty and smelled pretty rank, but I didn’t care. I just leaned my head on his shoulder, wishing I could just run away with him right now and leave everything behind—my mama, Lindy, and most of all, the body in the cellar. My heart was racing, but I felt eerily calm at the same time. Carson’s touch somehow had such conflicting effects on my body.
I felt the tears rolling down my face and I quickly wiped them away, not wanting Carson to see me crying.
“Come on,” I said, jumping to my feet. We had work to do. We couldn’t spend the afternoon sipping tea while the body in the cellar continued to decompose.
The Dead of Summer Page 15