Rene Gutteridge - Listen

But he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Kay rose from the computer, straining to see clearly for a moment. She rubbed her eyes and stretched. How long had she been sitting here, reading all that?

She checked on Jenna. Still watching TV. She climbed the stairs, deciding laundry was calling her name. She grabbed the basket in the hallway and went to her bedroom, intending on hanging the clean clothes. But something caught her eye in the far corner. She set the basket down and walked toward the freestanding mirror.

The bedroom lights dazzled in the background of the long mirror and the reflection it held. She was thinking of changing into something a little nicer than sweats. She didn’t want to feel grungy.

Except as she stood there, it wasn’t the outside that was bothering her. It was something deep, internal, voiceless.

Kay covered her mouth, trying not to acknowledge it, trying to hold back the tears. But there it was, right in front of her. Not what she wore. Or how her hair looked. But something nobody else could see.

Why was it rearing its ugly head now? Why wouldn’t it go away?

Kay was unable to look at herself. A deep, heavy cry was unwillingly forced out. It was maddening too, and she slammed her hand against the mirror. It tipped backward and crashed into the wall.

“Mom?”

Kay gasped, scrambling to pick up the heavy mirror. “Jenna?”

“What are you doing?”

Kay swiped at her face. “Nothing… I just…” How could she hide this? Gauging Jenna’s expression, she’d been standing there long enough. She opened her mouth, intending to falsely confess this was about Gabby. But as she stared into her daughter’s eyes, she knew that wouldn’t do. It wasn’t fair. To anybody.

Kay sat on the edge of her bed and motioned for Jenna to join her. Her daughter sat next to her, crossing and recrossing her legs. Stale air and awkward silence wedged between them, but Kay wasn’t going to be deterred.

“I want to tell you something. About myself. I was about your age, in high school like you and all that. But I wanted to fit in better. I had a few friends, but not the kind that I felt I wanted. So I went against my parents’ rules and started dressing… loose.”

“Loose? You mean, like, baggy clothes?”

Kay smiled a little. “No. Actually really tight clothes. Low cut. Supershort shorts. Miniskirts galore. I’d sneak them out of the house under other clothes, then change at school. And you know what? It worked. I was noticed.”

Kay’s shaky hands stroked the silky comforter on the bed. “One day I was coming out of chemistry. I rounded the corner, and there was spray paint all over my locker.” She paused, but not even a deep breath could stop the tears from rolling. She looked away from Jenna. She didn’t want to see her face when she told the next part. “Spray-painted all over my locker were the words slut and whore.”

Kay finally glanced over, afraid of the shame her daughter would feel toward her. But instead, to Kay’s surprise, the hard and steady glare that had disappeared overnight had returned. Jenna’s eyes sank underneath her furrowed brows as if they were backing slowly into a deep and dark cave.

Kay quickly added, “I’m just telling you this because it was so painful. It was the worst day of my life. Still is. I’ll never get over standing there staring at those words.” She reached for her daughter’s hand, but Jenna pulled away. Jumped to her feet as if something had grabbed her underneath the bed. “Jenna? What?”

Jenna didn’t look her in the eye. “Nothing. I get it, okay? It’s a long-winded way of saying it, but I get it.”

“Get what?”

“Please. Don’t sit there and act like that was an innocent little story you wanted to tell to get off your chest.”

Kay swiped at more tears that began to fall. “You’re right. But, honey, a mother’s hope is that she can prevent her children from making the-”

“Same mistake. Yeah, I get it. Except I don’t have to have my mistake painted across a locker. I’ve got you writing it all over me every day, don’t I?” Jenna turned and rushed out of the room.

Kay fell backward on the bed, too exhausted and emotional to do anything but lie there and stare at the ceiling.

So they were now back to square one. Thanks to Kay opening her big mouth. She knew there was a reason she had kept it secret all these years. She curled into a little ball and willed herself to sleep.

There was a disproportionate number of cell phone stores to the number of residents in Marlo, but Frank decided on the popular one that offered rollover minutes, free phones, unlimited texting, and every other useless but endlessly fun thing on the planet.

He tried to stop smiling to himself, but he couldn’t help reveling in Squirmy over there in the passenger’s seat. He’d driven through Starbucks in silence, letting the kid believe whatever he wanted to about Frank’s mood. He didn’t help matters when he refused to let Gavin order.

Frank glanced over while taking a sip of coffee.

As if he had superpowered peripheral vision, Gavin turned and offered a tentative smile.

“So,” Frank said, lowering his voice to sound the slightest bit irritated, “you don’t like working with me.” He had to sip more coffee to keep from smiling.

Sweat burst onto Gavin’s forehead. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s not personal; it’s really not. You’re a great cop, the way you found that girl and everything last night. I have the utmost respect for you in every way. But sometimes personalities clash and that can’t be helped-”

“What’s wrong with my personality?” Good grief, he was having so much fun.

“No, no. Nothing. There’s nothing wrong with you. I mean, not you. Your personality. And you. There’s nothing wrong at all.” The kid looked like he was about to hyperventilate.

“Calm down. Let me let you in on a little secret: don’t be a tattletale. You learned that in kindergarten, right? Guess what. It applies to the police force too. I’d risk my life trying to save you. Right here, right now. And you’re going to go in and complain that I’m not easy to work with? Doesn’t bode well, my friend.” Frank was pretty sure he’d already discussed this before, but maybe it didn’t stick.

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t tattling. I didn’t say anything bad about you. I just felt like I could possibly learn a little more from someone who wanted a rookie.”

“Nobody wants a rookie, Rookie. I’m glad you’re eager to learn. There’s nothing wrong with that. But as important as police work is, what’s more important is camaraderie. You gotta trust the guys you’re working with. Okay?”

Gavin grinned. “Now you’re teaching me something.”

“Oh, brother. Don’t go all sentimental on me. So tell me, how’d you get this idea about cell phone spying?”

“I saw it on the Internet once.”

“Just stumbled upon it while searching the World Wide Web?”

Gavin shifted. “I had an ex-girlfriend. Thought she was stalking me. Seemed to know where I’d be. Someone told me she could’ve loaded this thing on my, you know, phone.”

Frank pulled to a stop at the light, looked at Gavin, who didn’t seem to want to make eye contact.

“All right, fine.” Gavin sighed, a finger tracing the dashboard. “Yeah, okay, I looked into it. I was a freshman in college. I’d been serious with this chick since high school. She went to college and swore we’d stay together, but then she didn’t have time to see me. I got suspicious.”

“You do it?”

“No. I just looked into it. Had heard in the frat house that it could be done but nobody really knew how.”

Frank pulled into the parking lot of Cell Buy, with its tacky storefront promising deals of the century that were apparently not profitable enough to help them afford anything more than neon cardboard for the grand announcements. “This the store you went to?”