“It’s complicated, buddy,” Audrey said. “They want to know that I’m a fit parent, not some middle-aged party girl who owns a male dance club.”
I tried to let the words sink in, but a big part of me was still terrified, still wondering. She was explaining the situation, but she hadn’t given us an actual answer to the questions that had been on my mind all day long—what was to be done about it?
“Are you afraid of what they’ll think?” I asked quietly. Audrey looked over at me and blew a breath out from between her lips.
“Yes, Liv, I am.”
“And that’s reason enough to get rid of us?”
We all looked at Noah, and I was shocked to see a tear rolling down his face. Another followed it, and then another, until water was gushing from his eyes and his pale cheeks were red and raw.
“Oh, baby,” Audrey said sadly, but she made no move to comfort him.
I think she was afraid. I think they all were. I knew I was. So instead, we all sat in silence, watching Noah cry, feeling pity for ourselves and fear of the unknown. Finally, after a few minutes, Ty made a move forward, as if to comfort Noah. Audrey stopped him. She got up herself instead and put her arms around my sobbing kid brother.
“That’s not going to happen,” she murmured in his ear. “I promise I’ll do everything I can for you and Olivia. I won’t let them take you, and you can bet your butt I won’t just give you up.” I could see the change of heart in her, the parental instincts taking over.
It wasn’t until Marisol and Avery had their arms around me that I tasted the salty tears on my own lips. I wiped my face abruptly, wondering how much of this situation my silly Aunt Audrey controlled —if she even had any control.
I found it impossible to focus on schoolwork for the rest of the week. The three of us dreaded what was to come with the coming weekend. It was a sensitive subject in the house, one not taken lightly. Mostly, we all kept our mouths shut and our questions quiet. Audrey attempted to make small talk every day after school, and Noah and I played along at first, but after a while, the task took too much energy. Eventually, I found Audrey falling into silence, the wheels in her head apparently spinning, a fake smile plastered on her face.
On Friday afternoon, when I walked into the house after school, a woman stood in our living room. She was tall and slim, wearing a powder blue button-down blouse and matching slacks. She held a clipboard in one arm, a pen in the other hand. I stopped in the doorway and let my pack drop to the floor, uneasy about the stranger in front of me. The woman turned to look at me and smiled. Her lipstick was too red, it clashed with the light complexion of her face, and her brown hair was pulled up in a bun tight enough to give me a headache just by looking at it.
“Hello, Olivia,” the lady said. “How are you? My name is Sheryl, and I’m with King’s County Social Services.”
I looked the woman up and down, frowning. An odd feeling in the pit of my stomach made me feel nauseous and uneasy.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Good.” She smiled at me, but it wasn’t genuine. Professional, maybe, but it didn’t put me at ease like it was probably supposed to.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow.” I didn’t mean to sound rude, but that was how it came out. Sheryl only smiled again, as if trying to reassure me. I considered turning around and walking back out the door.
“Change of plans,” she said. “But it’s okay. I’m only here to make sure things are going well with your new guardian.” Just then, the front door opened again, and Noah came in, mumbling about the pouring rain. His head was down as he shook himself off like a wet dog, letting his shaggy brown hair slap against his forehead. It was an odd time for me to learn he badly needed a haircut.
“How are you, Noah?” asked Sheryl. My brother looked up, surprised, and narrowed his eyes in her direction.
“It’s Sheryl,” I said, then cleared my throat. “The social worker.” A ruckus from the kitchen drew everyone’s attention. Audrey came out with a plate of brownies in her hand. She stopped and looked around. That fake smile was still on her face.
“The kids are home,” she noted. “That’s great.” She set the plate of goodies down on the coffee table and straightened. She looked tense as she used one hand to signal toward the couch. “Shall we sit?”
“Yes,” Sheryl said, and the four of us moved in awkward unison as we each took a seat. The three of us plopped down on the couch while Sheryl placed herself across from us on Audrey’s loveseat. Noah and I were struck into silence as Sheryl gathered her composure and clicked her pen. She didn’t reach for a brownie. All too familiar with Audrey’s cooking, I was glad.
“So.” Sheryl leaned forward on her elbows, trying to look relaxed, but unable to pull it off. She smiled. Her teeth were strangely white. “How are things going?”
It was an open question, so innocent, so welcoming, but the undertone of it made my stomach churn. She was there to snoop, I knew she was, and all I could do was sit and wait for the wrong thing to be said or an inappropriate comment to be made.
Next to me on the couch, Audrey’s plastered on smile didn’t waver. “Things are well,” she said.
Sheryl’s gaze shifted from Audrey. “Olivia?” she prodded. “How is school?”
“School is good,” I said carefully. “I made some friends.” Like two… who weren’t even speaking to me.
“That’s nice.” Sheryl nodded and pursed her lips. “How are your grades?”
Audrey tensed. Outside, rain came down even harder than it had been, pinging off the front window like hail.
I cleared my throat. “I struggled at first, you know, with the change and all, but my grades are coming up. I have a great teacher who has been extremely helpful.”
“Of course he’s helpful,” said Noah. “He’s Audrey’s boyfriend.” The silence that fell over the room was deafening, painful, almost, and it intensified the eerie drumming of the rain against the windows. Blood roared in my ears, and I saw a flash of white as lightning slashed across the sky. It took everything in my power not to reach over and strangle my little brother where he sat.
Through my haze of anger, I saw Sheryl’s plucked brows shoot straight up. Her lips flattened into a thin, straight line, and she regarded Audrey with an air of expectancy.
“Boyfriend? You’re—dating Olivia’s teacher?”
“Not really dating,” Audrey said. She was flustered, tongue-tied, and a blush crept across her cheeks. “We went out once. Or twice.”
“They’re fighting now, though,” Noah said, and I couldn’t stop it in time as my elbow dug hard into his ribs. Noah flinched away, his eyes flickering to mine. It was then I realized that he had no idea he had said anything wrong.
“I see,” said Sheryl. Noticing my panicked look, Noah tried to redeem himself.
“They’ll make up,” he said. “They’re good for each other.” Ding. Sheryl’s eyebrows shot up again. All three of us fell quiet. We had not only dug the hole, but we’d buried ourselves, too. The light of day was quickly vanishing under a mound of dirt.
“We are at a standstill right now,” Audrey said finally. “But when we were—dating—he was an incredible influence in the children’s lives.”
Sheryl reached for a pen and pad from her bag. She clicked the pen open and put it to the paper. Then she looked hard at Audrey.
“Do you honestly think that dating your niece’s schoolteacher is considered a ‘wonderful influence’ for the children?” she asked. She scribbled down something on the pad.
“They liked him, and he was good to them,” said Audrey. “Isn’t that what matters?” I waved goodbye to the last shard of daylight above that mound of dirt we were all buried under. A mental image of a stone slab sliding over the hole seemed to be the cherry on top of the sundae. Sheryl smoothed back her hair and smiled, but it was not friendly. Not anymore. Not even a little bit.
“May I get this man’s name?”
“Why?�
�� asked Audrey. “We’re not dating anymore.”
“Just for a reference.”
My brain fired up then, and I thought of all the things that Mr. Devereaux could say about the welfare of his ex-girlfriend’s niece and nephew. The thought of it was overwhelming. How far could one bitter person go?
“Jake Deveraux,” Audrey said softly. “That’s his name.”
“Noah,” Sheryl said as she turned to my little brother. “How do you like school?”
“It’s fine,” Noah mumbled in his angry-teenager-tone. “Boring.”
Sheryl smiled. “Do you get help with your homework?”
“Yeah.”
“From your teachers?”
“No. From Ty.”
Audrey and I froze. What came next was almost inevitable, like a train wreck just about to happen as a crowd stared on, unable to do anything about it but watch in wide-eyed fascination and terror.
“Ty?” repeated Sheryl. Her honey-sweet voice was dripping with morbid curiosity. “Who’s Ty, Noah?”
“He’s one of Aunt Audrey’s dancers.”
I closed my eyes briefly, wondering that if I opened them again, I would wake up from a horrible nightmare. Oblivious to his words, Sheryl looked from Noah to Audrey, her eyebrows were still raised. She smoothed her slacks and then folded her hands daintily in her lap.
“Dancer?” she leaned in toward Audrey. “What does he mean, dear?”
“My business,” Audrey said. Her tone was flat. “I own a male dance club.”
Sheryl’s hand went over her mouth like she’d tasted something terrible. She looked down at the folder in her lap, then looked back up to stare at Audrey. “That’s right, I see that here. It came in with the background check. I guess I expected something different.”
“Well, that’s what it is.” Audrey reached for a brownie and took a bite out of it.
We all watched her chew, waiting for her to say something else.
Finally, she swallowed and then spoke again. “My business is a dance club.”
Sheryl scribbled something on the pad in her arm and then stood up, looking more than ready to bolt.
“It’s been a pleasure to see you both,” she said to Noah and me. Then she looked at Audrey. “We’ll be in touch.” In a matter of seconds, she was out the door.
The three of us stood there, staring at her, unsure of what to say. Finally, Audrey, who had been chewing on another brownie, tucked a strand of her hair behind one ear.
“So,” she said. “That went well.”
It was Sunday at noon when Emma decided it was time to make up. Jesse, too, apparently. I was reading a book in the living room when there was a light knock on the front door. Noah swung it open, looking bored as per usual, and Emma appeared from the outside, dragging Jesse behind her. We sat there staring at each other for a moment, Emma and me, wondering who would make the first move while Jesse looked around awkwardly. Finally, Emma spoke.
“I’m sorry I was mean,” she said. She was dressed in bell-bottom jeans and a purple blouse today, her red hair pinned on top of her head in a wild array of curls. She had on pink flip-flops and large hoop earrings. Despite how ridiculous it all looked, she still pulled it off.
“It’s my fault, too.” I set the book down and got up to embrace her, relieved that the silent treatment was finally over. “You were right, you know. I take advantage of it sometimes.” Noah, who was still standing at the open door, rolled his eyes in disgust as he watched us.
“God. Get a room.”
“Good to see you too, squirt.” Emma ruffled his hair and Noah scowled, looking less than pleased to be called a childish name.
“Liv,” Jesse said from behind Emma. He gave me a shy smile and nodded his head, but I couldn’t resist the urge to step forward and throw my arms around him.
“I’m glad you’re here, too,” I said. “I hoped you wouldn’t be angry forever.” He smelled of Old Spice and laundry detergent, and for a moment I never wanted to pull away, especially when he returned the hug, his strong arms pulling me close.
“That’s enough, you two,” Emma said, but she sounded pleased.
“I have a lot to tell you guys,” I said, pulling away from Jesse. “Things around here are FUBAR.” From the kitchen, Audrey poked her head out. She had flour on her cheek and a blue apron tied around her waist, looking as though she’d just stepped out of a Better Homes and Garden magazine.
“Is that Emma I hear?” she asked with a smile. Her eyes traveled over Jesse, and her smile grew. “Do you guys want some lunch?” she asked. “Or some cookies? How about some cookies? I have brownies left over, too.”
“I’ll have a cookie,” Jesse said before I could interject. “I’m Jesse, by the way.”
“Audrey,” she said, then stepped forward to take his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Jesse.”
“Jesse is a… friend of mine,” I told her, stumbling slightly over the word “friend.”
“Any friend of Olivia’s is a friend of mine,” Audrey said. “Do you guys want some lunch? Or some cookies? I have brownies, too.”
“You already asked us---”
“We’re okay, Ms. Bell, but thanks,” Emma said quickly, cutting me off. “We ate before we came.”
Audrey nodded once and then pulled her head back into the kitchen before either Noah or I could answer her.
Emma shot me a quizzical look, and I signaled for her and Jesse to follow me up to my bedroom. Once there, I shut the door behind us and turned up my stereo just enough to drown out any outside noise.
“Has she gone insane?” Emma asked. “Has your aunt gone off the deep end? Flew over the cuckoo’s nest? Gone off her rocker?”
“She cooks when she’s nervous.”
“Cooks? Or conjures?” Emma asked with a snigger.
I sat down nearly at my bed, not realizing that I had been ringing my hands together until Emma stared at them. I took a breath and dropped them into my lap, suddenly self-conscious when Jesse took a seat next to me, his warm arm brushing against mine.
“You weren’t kidding,” Emma said, noticing the look on my face. She leaned forward, her eyes intent on me. “Tell me everything.”
And so I did. I left nothing out. Emma and Jesse listened, nodding when appropriate and making faces when I mentioned the social worker, Sheryl. Halfway through my story, I found Jesse resting his hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. It was both reassuring and nerve-wracking, and I was surprised that he had this effect on me. When I finished, I took a deep breath.
“Wow,” she said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier, Liv. I had no idea.”
“It’s making Audrey crazy.” I stood up and crossed the floor to open the window a crack, craving the fresh air. My legs were shaking, and I hoped I wouldn’t fall flat on my face. “She’s so nervous about it, like they’ve caught her red-handed. She’s afraid they’ll take us away.”
“That won’t happen,” Jesse said. He ran a hand through his shaggy dark hair, looking distraught. “They can’t do that—can they?”
Downstairs, there was a knock on the front door. Emma and I looked at each other for a second before I leaned over to turn the music on the radio down.
“Someone’s here,” Emma whispered. “It sounds like a man!” Childishly, we put our ears to the door and listened. Jesse stayed where he was; eyebrows raised as he watched us. Next to my room, Noah had his music loud, presumably unaware of whatever else was going on in the house. I caught my breath and held it, trying to discover who had come to the door. I heard Audrey’s voice first, and then a man’s. I reached for the door handle and pushed it open a crack, allowing room for both Emma and me to see down the stairs. I saw him when Emma did, and she covered her mouth in surprise when it became apparent.
“…social worker stopped by yesterday,” Mr. Devereaux was saying to Audrey. “She interviewed me, asking about the kind of life I think you provide for the kids.” I was shocked to see that Audrey’s nose was red from crying, her
eyes swollen. She was still in her cooking apron, but all the smiles had melted from her face. She sniffed once and wiped her nose with a tissue.
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth.” Mr. Devereaux said.
Emma and I watched, both of us slack-jawed, as he turned away and walked out the door, leaving Audrey standing by herself in the living room. We stood there for a moment watching her, both too shocked to move. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Audrey wiped her nose one last time and then disappeared back into the kitchen.
“Wow,” Emma said, pulling her head back in. “That was awkward.” I shut the door quietly and retreated to my bed, sick to my stomach. Jesse put his arm around me and pulled me in. I didn’t fight it. There was something so… right about it. In Noah’s room, the music grew quiet for a moment and then slammed back on, vibrating the walls around us. I half expected Audrey to yell up at him from the bottom of the stairs, but she didn’t make an appearance.
“What do you think he said to her?” I asked.
“Audrey?” Emma said. “Not much.”
“Not to Audrey,” I snapped. “The social worker. Sheryl.” Emma looked up from the magazine she now had her nose in.
“I don’t know, Liv,” she admitted. “He didn’t sound thrilled with Audrey, though.”
I looked down at my hands folded in my lap, just now noticing that they gleamed with sweat. It wasn’t until I saw Emma openly staring at me with a look of concern that I realized I had said nothing in a few minutes.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
I swallowed a lump in my throat, surprised that it was even there. Emma stood up from where she was sitting and crossed the room to put an arm around me. With her on one side and Jesse on the other, I melted into them, letting the pit in my throat grow until I felt the first wet tear slide down my cheek. Together we sat at the edge of the bed, where Emma and Jesse let me cry until I could cry no more.
Had I been expecting something of a weird encounter with Mr. Devereaux the following Monday, I was sorely mistaken. Not only did we not have any shred of a civilized conversation, but he also avoided my gaze and pretended I didn’t exist in his classroom. At one point, I even raised my hand to answer a question, only to be shot down when he called on the quiet kid that sat behind me and was usually found picking his nose. By the time the bell rang and the first period ended, I was too irritated to try it again, and I followed Emma and Jesse out of the classroom without glancing back.
The Guys Next Door Page 12