Center Ice (5 page)

Chapter Seven

- Karen -

Tyler insisted on walking me home, even though I told him I was fine. When we got to the house, he waited on the sidewalk until I was in the backyard. I turned back for one more look at him before I went around the corner of the house, and I froze, torn between knowing I had to go inside and wanting, wanting so bad, to run back to him. I wasn’t sure what I’d do when I reached him—it didn’t matter, really. Just being with him, being with someone normal and sane and kind, someone funny and sweet who seemed to actually be happy to see me and want to spend time with me. That was all I wanted.

But he couldn’t see me hesitating in the shadows, and he turned around and started off toward whatever his real life was, so I was able to make myself be responsible.

All the lights in the house were off, so I found the hide-a-key in the back yard. When I got to the kitchen door, though, it was unlocked, and when I stepped inside Will was sitting at the table, no light except for what was filtering in from the hall. He’d been waiting for me. He asked, “You’re okay?” in a quiet voice.

I nodded mutely, and he stood up. “Okay. Go to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

That was all. He turned and headed for his staircase; I turned and headed for mine. If I hadn’t been so tired I probably would have been worried about the next day’s conversation, but as it was, I played my mom’s message a couple times, then fell asleep fast and easy.

I woke up the next morning with the dawn, and it took me two blinks to realize where I was. There was the familiar weight of reality, the renewed realization of why I was there and what I had lost. When I was asleep, I was still in my bed in Toronto, and my mother was still safely sleeping in the room next door. Every time I woke up, I lost her again, and it took me a while to adjust.

Then I rolled out of bed and reached for my running clothes. I had to keep moving, keep distracting myself. And I was over my pathetic need to be rescued, at least temporarily, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t look forward to seeing Tyler.

There was no sign of him when I got to the park, but that wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t like we’d set a time, or anything. Thinking back, there hadn’t even been a “see you tomorrow morning”. Just a quiet “good night” on the sidewalk.

I stretched for maybe a little longer than usual, definitely long enough for him to have completed a lap of the path through the forest, so I knew he wasn’t there yet. No big deal. Maybe he was just late. I started jogging and tried to get into my rhythm. Usually, I could totally drown out my thoughts with a sort of mental chant, thinking along with the sound of my feet hitting the path, the measured pace of my breathing.
In, thud thud, out, thud thud, in, thud thud…
It wasn’t exactly exciting, but it was great to turn my brain off for a while. But that day, I kept being distracted. I thought I saw him about a dozen times, either in front of me or behind, just out of sight, and in a move of rare brilliance I actually reversed the direction that we both normally ran so I’d be sure I’d go past him if he was there, instead of both of us running around at the same pace on opposite sides of the circuit.

I kept at it for way longer than usual, long enough that the sun was getting hot and my legs were starting to feel like wobbly blades of grass, but Tyler didn’t appear.

It wasn’t a big deal. It was stupid to feel disappointed. Everything was fine, and it was great that I’d gotten such a good workout. I stretched out on the benches in the grassy area of the park and then walked home, and I did
not
look over my shoulder a bunch of times to check in case he’d just been really late.

Will’s car was gone by the time I got back which was an excellent side effect of the extra-long workout, but the rest of the family seemed to be awake, which was a definite drawback. I tried to sneak in, but Natalie was waiting for me in the kitchen. I needed to check and see if any of the basement windows opened—maybe I could turn one of them into my own entrance/exit route.

“Karen,” Natalie said firmly. “Come in here for a minute, please.”

“I’m totally sweaty and gross. I’ll just shower, and then—”

“Now, please. It won’t take long.” There was something in her tone that made me obey, and I realized she didn’t need to use shock collars on her kids; she was just an authoritative person.

Still, I might do what she said, but I didn’t have to do it nicely. So I slumped against the fridge, letting my sweaty body steam up the stainless steel, and raised an eyebrow at her.
I’m waiting
, my body language said.
This had better be good.

Natalie kept her eyes on me as she stepped out into the front hall and called up the stairs. “Miranda? Come down here, please.”

Natalie returned to the kitchen, and a moment later Miranda appeared, looking cautious. When she saw me, her expression faded to sullen. Probably a good mirror of my own face.

“Ladies,” Natalie said. “I’ve tried to speak to both of you individually, and I haven’t had much luck. So let’s try this as a group.”

We both just stared at her. She shook her head and said, “That little display yesterday was absolutely unacceptable. I do
not
want a repeat of it, under any circumstances. Is that clear?”

I snorted. “If you can get your daughter to keep her mouth shut, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Oh my God!” Miranda’s eyes were wide with faked outrage. “Mom, she’s running around with
Tyler MacDonald
. I told you yesterday, she needs to be kept on a leash or something. Honestly, some of the things she could catch from him? I don’t think she should be allowed to use the same toilet seats as us, is all I’m saying.”

“Both of you, stop it!” Natalie stared at us like we were rabid wolverines who’d somehow fought our way into her spotless kitchen. “Karen, I want you
both
to keep your mouths shut, and Miranda, if you want Karen to make different friends, maybe you should introduce her to some of
yours
.”

Miranda was in the middle of making a disgusted face, but I beat her to the punch. “No, thanks. From what I’ve seen of them, I’m really not interested.”

“What you’ve seen of them?” Miranda snarled. “You haven’t seen them at all. Since you got here, I’ve been too embarrassed to let anyone come over!”

“You think I heard about your dad’s whoring from Tyler? Trust me, we talk about stuff
way
more interesting than your pathetic family. No, it was your so-called friends who were talking about it.” And since this whole showdown had been Natalie’s stupid idea, I added, “From what they say, though, I could have heard it anywhere, because apparently the whole
town
knows he’s a complete slut.”

“You are a total
bitch
!” Miranda screamed. “You’re ruining everything. Mom, this is my last year before university, and she’s going to
ruin
it.” She was crying now, her face twisted up and blotchy, and I almost felt sorry for her. But not quite.

I had my mouth open for the next attack when Natalie said, “Enough!” She stepped between the two of us and said, “Sit down. Both of you.” Neither of us moved, and Natalie growled, “Miranda…” and pointed at one of the kitchen chairs. There was a tense moment, but finally Miranda moved, and Natalie turned toward me. “Karen,” she said more calmly, and gestured to a chair on the far side of the table.

I figured I could always just stand up again if I had to, so I moved, and Natalie sank tiredly into her own chair between the two of us. “No more,” she finally said. “I don’t want to hear the words ‘bitch’ or ‘slut’ or ‘whore’ one more time in this house. Not from either one of you, not directed at each other or anybody else.”

“What about the
idea
of slut?” I asked. It probably sounded petty, but I was pretty sure I had a point. “Like the stuff she keeps saying about Tyler?” I wasn’t sticking up for his honor; I just wanted to see her face.

Natalie nodded slowly. “I think his name should probably be off-limits as well.” She shook her head at Miranda. “Honestly, I’ve never heard you have a problem with him before. Where did all this come from?”

“From me finding out what a whore he is,” Miranda said.

“Uh, consequences,” I sing-songed. “She used a forbidden word. She obviously needs a consequence in order to understand that you’re serious.”

“You want consequences?” Natalie rolled her head toward me, looking absolutely disgusted. “Fine. For both of you.” She looked back at Miranda. “The garage is a mess. Today,
both of you
will be cleaning it out. I want it totally emptied, then swept down and hosed out.” She looked at each of us in turn, and I began to understand the true horror of what she was saying. “I’ll have Matt and Sara sort through their things, and Will is planning to be home at lunch, so he can go through his stuff as well. Whatever they decide to keep, you two will find a home for. Whatever they decide to throw out, you will load up and take to the dump or to Goodwill. Neither one of you will leave this house until that job is finished.”

“Wait a second,” I said. “Why the hell am I clearing out all
your
junk? I just moved here.” I refused to mention the pain of dealing with my mother’s things at the apartment, because there was no way on earth I was going to cry in front of either of these two. But I really felt like I’d done enough sorting of belongings for a while.

“You’re doing it because you need to learn to get along with your sister, and maybe working on a shared task will help with that.”

“That’s bullshit. She’s only my
half
-sister, and spending a whole day trapped with her is only going to make it
more
clear what a psycho-bitch she is!”

“And
now
you’re doing it as a consequence for using one of the forbidden words,” Natalie said with a coldly charming smile. “You can have half an hour to shower and have breakfast, but I want both of you in the garage by nine o’clock, ready to work.”

“Mom, Claire and Lisa and I are going to the movies this afternoon. We made plans!” Miranda sounded like she might start crying again.

“Well, then, you’d better work fast.” Natalie shook her head. “I don’t think you’re going to make it, to be honest, but…maybe. You can try, at least.” Damn, this was a new side to the woman—who knew she had a sadistic streak? I was almost ready to appreciate her when she turned to me and said, “Are you thinking that there’s no point getting showered, because the job is going to be so dirty? Or are you just wasting valuable time?”

I stared at her for as long as I could, but there was no way she was going to back down. So I forced my face into a smile just as artificial as all of hers and said, “Super. I’m sure this will work. No problem.” Another smile to make it clear I was being sarcastic, and then I stomped downstairs to get cleaned up.

By the time I’d eaten and gone to the garage, Miranda was already hard at work. It was still before nine, so I guess she was just being a martyr. I flopped down on the steps leading to the house and watched her for a while.

“Are you going to
help
?” she finally asked.

“I don’t know.
I
don’t have anywhere to be this afternoon. I was thinking about taking it slow.”

She glared at me, then slowly, deliberately reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She hit the screen a few times and then raised it to her ear. “Hi,” she said. “I’m just calling because I can’t make it this afternoon. Yeah, there’s a family thing. That girl who’s staying with us? Yeah. It’s her fault. So, anyway, I’m not going to make it.” She nudged a big canvas bag full of hockey gear with her foot, then sank gracefully down onto it and smiled at me. “Yeah, she’s still living here. You should see her. We’re supposed to be cleaning out the garage, and she’s wearing a
dress
. I honestly don’t know if she even owns a pair of jeans.”

Miranda was loving this, and I was kind of stuck. I couldn’t leave without it looking like I was running away, and if I got up and started moving things, she’d have won. So I just sat there and stared out the garage door as she kept talking. “Yeah, it’s like she thinks she’s better than us. ‘Oooh, I’m from the city, and I wear dresses all the time.’ And meanwhile, she’s, like, a pathetic little rat-creature, with her pointy face and her nasty brown hair.” She giggled, “No,
you
have
nice
brown hair. It’s a real color! Hers is just dirty dishwater.”

Where the hell was Natalie? Shouldn’t she be coming out to check on us? She could hear her daughter being a mega-bitch, and then she’d understand what I was dealing with. But I didn’t need to be rescued, I reminded myself.

I lurched to my feet and wandered over to the deep shelves that lined Miranda’s side of the garage. I shuffled around a little, and I knew she was watching me, just waiting to see me pick up a box of something and move it outside. I picked something up, all right, and I heaved the bag up onto my shoulder and started toward the door. But when I got as far as Miranda, I shifted my grip on the bag and tipped it over, open end down, and let the gritty, dusty birdseed fall on her snarky little head.

It was a big bag and the whole top had been cut open so it didn’t pour so much as just empty itself all over her. She shrieked, I laughed, and then she was surging upward, her arms wrapping around my waist as she knocked me over backward onto the hard concrete floor. She landed on top of me and I skidded a bit, feeling the skin on my elbows tearing. Then she had both of her hands wrapped in my hair, “You bitch!” she screamed. “Why did you have to come here? Why!” She tried to bang my head on the floor but she wasn’t putting a lot of conviction into it; I kept my neck muscles tense and she barely moved me at all. “I hate you!”

Then Natalie was there, her arm wrapped around Miranda’s shoulders as she pulled her backward. “Get off her, Miranda!”

Apparently Miranda was done fighting because she let her mother pull her away from me, and when Natalie let go of her she stalked off to a corner of the garage and just stood there, trembling and crying like
she
was the one who’d almost gotten her head beaten against a concrete floor.