Chapter 46
The old floorboards, as tired as she was, creaked under Anna’s feet as she trudged upstairs, Grandma finally settled but Anna now the opposite.
These strange moments were disturbing, and while the thought might be mad, the idea that maybe the dead girls were haunting Grandma was taking hold, and it was creepy as fuck even if it was the sort of thing she’d tell Caroline off for believing.
She wanted to plug in to a podcast or an old movie and zone out.
She didn’t even want to make notes for the article.
That could wait until tomorrow, when she was thinking rationally again.
You had jelly on your T-shirt. It was weird.
There was too much weird. And why did it only happen when she and Grandma were alone?
Mom was on the landing getting fresh towels out of the closet, and she handed one to Anna.
“She was in full flight telling her friends about her period over FaceTime or whatever, but she really didn’t want to talk to me about it.” She smiled, rueful. “She’s growing up.”
“She’s got a ways to go yet.” Anna didn’t want to think of Caroline as anything other than safe.
“Grandma okay?” Mom followed her into her bedroom. So much for some peace and quiet.
“Yeah, she’s gone to sleep.” She paused. “I know I said I would, but I’ve never given her the pills. I don’t think she wants them.”
Mom leaned on the doorframe. The youthful glow she’d had when she’d been flirting with Lucas was long gone and she looked tired. She probably was tired. Anna knew how she felt.
“Yeah, it’s fine. I didn’t feel great about it.” Mom sighed so deep it was almost a death rattle. “I just worry, you know. That I won’t hear her at night when I’m here. Or you won’t. This house is too big.”
“It’s okay. I’d hear her. I never sleep till dawn anyway.”
Mom looked at her sideways. “Still?”
Anna shrugged. She didn’t need to say more. The thing, the thing, the thing, forever glued to her, a stain she couldn’t get out.
“You’re being very good with her.”
“She’s fragile. I get it.”
There was another long, awkward pause.
“It was nice of your friend Melissa to let Callie see the baby cow. You like her?”
Anna nodded.
“Good. It’s hard to make friends as you get older.
” Listening to her, Anna realized that it had been a while since Mom had a group of friends.
When had that stopped? After Caroline had finished kindergarten, maybe?
When Grandma or Anna started taking her to school on the mornings Mom worked?
No school drop-off mom-fun for Claire. She’d had colleagues, not really friends. And definitely not since they’d moved.
“The world gets smaller,” Mom continued. “Every day the same, just struggling to get by. And most people are in couples. They hang out with other couples.”
“I guess.” Anna picked at her fingernails as Mom let out another sigh.
“Lucas didn’t come for dinner. He said he might, but he hasn’t even messaged.” The words were heavy with a resigned sadness, and Anna felt greasy with guilt.
“He’s probably busy.”
“Since Friday? No, something’s changed. I can feel it.
I thought it was too good to be true, and I guess I was right.
I really liked him, though. He’s uncomplicated.
” Mom’s smile was so fragile Anna thought her breath would shatter it.
“It was nice to have that feeling for a while. Something new. Exciting. Shame it didn’t last.” She straightened her spine.
“Maybe this was too much for him. Grandma being the way she is. Kid still in school.” Anna waited for her to mention the thing, to add Anna to the list, almost hoping she would so she could be angry again and not feel so awful about what she’d done, but Mom didn’t. “Too much real life.”
“Too much estrogen,” Anna added, trying to lighten the mood, and Mom let out a small laugh.
“Not for Grandma. I mean, she was never overflowing with the caring juice, but she is way past the change.”
“She’s not so bad.” It was true, Grandma could be a grade-A judgmental bitch, but at the same time, Anna didn’t dislike her anymore. They’d smoked side by side. She’d seen her vulnerable. Maybe she was too tired for any level of hate.
It was Mom’s turn to look surprised. “Maybe.”
“She got us this house,” Anna said. Dead girls. They say a girl died here. “And don’t stress about Lucas. If he can’t take you at your worst, he doesn’t deserve you at your best, sister, and all that bullshit.”
That made Mom laugh out loud, a flashback to the old days, before the thing, when they would laugh together at those Facebook memes. “Hell yeah, girlfriend. Adds wineglass emoji.”
Anna smiled then too and could almost convince herself that Lucas had been going to break up with Mom anyway. She would convince herself. She had to.
“Good night, Anna,” Mom said, her own towel hugged to her chest. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Mom,” Anna replied softly.
The rest of what she wanted to say was glue in her throat.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m too fucked-up.
I’m too afraid. It’s not you, it’s not him, it’s me.
Maybe she could take it back with Lucas if the police found no connection to the girls.
Maybe she could explain. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
She remembered how he’d passed her in the hallway.
The closeness. The tight curls of hair on his chest. How afraid she’d been.
Maybe you need to get laid yourself. Apology or not, she couldn’t live with him in the house.
He fucked around. He was dirty and wrong.
Anna waited for the click of Mom’s door closing before flopping back on the bed. And anyway, Mom would never find out.