Dina Santorelli (13 page)

This
was the first morning in the past ten months that Katherine didn't feel the
obligatory pull of Charlotte on her—that sensation, she imagined, experienced
by mothers of young children whose time is suddenly no longer their own. Today,
of all days, she should have felt that pull the most—her child had been taken
from her—and she felt nothing. She thought of Nurberg and his suspicious eyes,
and of the press who had given her a multimedia flogging this past year. Was it
so wrong to grieve for the life she'd had when it was just her and Phillip?
When she could unwind by watching television without being saddled with guilt?

She
peered down the hall to be sure Phillip was gone, walked over to the
bookshelves near her desk, and pulled out a small, wrinkled paper bag from
behind a Spanish-English dictionary. All her life she'd had people depending on
her,
thrived
on having people depend on her, but for the one person who
really needed her, Katherine had failed. She stuffed the bag into her purse,
checking one last time to see if the hallway was empty. Then she sat back at
her computer and tried to focus on work, but it was fruitless. Right now,
Katherine had only one thing on her mind. And that was Don Bailino.

"What the fuck are you
doing?" Leo asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Tony was sitting in the
dining room, his head tilted down and practically touching the screen of a
laptop computer that was set up on the buffet. "You gonna marry that thing?"

"What?"
Tony pulled back. "I'm comfortable like that. Stop busting my balls, Leo."

"What
are you doing?"

"I'm
updating my Facebook page."

"Are
you fuckin' nuts?" Leo stood behind Tony, taking loud slurps of his coffee.
"What the fuck you writing? 'Kidnapped a baby today'?" Leo slapped him in the
head. Benny, who was reading the newspaper at the dining room table, let out a
loud laugh and looked at Joey, who sat across from him reading a book while
listening to his headphones.

"No,"
Tony said. "I just wrote 'feeling hungry.'"

"Oh,
that's riveting stuff. You should write a novel." Leo sat on the sofa and
stretched his legs onto the coffee table, rubbing his socked feet together. "I
don't understand that shit. The photos... everyone's showing pictures of
themselves from twenty years ago or pictures that are half-cropped out because
they're so fuckin' fat. Look at your picture."

"What's
wrong with it?"

"It's
the side of your fuckin' face. Where are the rest of your chins?"

"Ha,
ha."

"What's
the point of writing all that shit down anyway? Waste of time." Leo took
another swig of his coffee.

"So
I take it you don't want to
friend
me," Tony asked.

Leo
stared. "Do I look like I want to friend you? I don't even want to be in the
same room with you." He looked at Benny. "Are you friends with him?"

Benny
nodded.

"No
shit? Another dummy."

Bailino
walked in, followed by Jamie, who was wearing the outfit that had been placed
on the bed for her and carrying the little girl, who had just downed another
eight ounces of formula and had on a fresh onesie and white socks. The jeans
were long, so Jamie had cuffed them a few times on the bottom, but the waist
was a perfect fit. Her feet were bare, and she was conscious of her red toenail
polish that she had so carefully painted on just two days before. The three of
them looked like a family making their way into the kitchen on a sunny spring
morning.

"Hey,
maybe
she
wants to friend you," Leo said to Tony.

Jamie's
eyes glanced at the computer and then looked away. From the colors and layout
of the monitor, she could tell that there was a Facebook page showing.
That
meant there was Internet access in the house.
She held the baby tighter in
her arms.

"Finally!"
Tony said. "I'm starving."

"Morning,
Sunshine," Leo said, winking at Jamie. "Rough night?"

The
sores on Jamie's face and head, which swelled slightly after her hot shower,
seemed to sting from Leo's gaze. The little girl put her head down on Jamie's
shoulder.

"What's
for breakfast?" Tony asked.

"Make
your own fucking breakfast," Bailino said. "Have a little respect. You're in my
house." Bailino picked up a newspaper from the floor, put it on the kitchen
counter, and poured himself a cup of coffee.

The
men looked at one another.

"But
Blondie made breakfast for us yesterday morning?" Tony said.

"It
wasn't her idea." Leo said with a sneer.

"Yeah,
well, she's not Blondie. How difficult is a fuckin' Pop-Tart?" Bailino turned
to Jamie. "Go ahead, sweetheart. Sit down." He pulled out one of the barstools and
then reached up on the top shelf of a nearby cabinet for a box of Cheerios. The
little girl watched Bailino, her eyes on the cereal box. Bailino held the box
out, and she recoiled at first, but then took it from his hands and fumbled
with its top.

Jamie
sat down and placed the little girl on her lap. She stuck her hand into the
box, grabbed a handful of Cheerios, and placed them on a napkin in front of the
baby, who grabbed at them, shoving them into her mouth. She put so many in that
Jamie was afraid she was going to choke.

"Easy,
easy," she said. "Slow down."

"Don't
mess up my computer," Bailino said, unpeeling a banana and kicking Tony's
chair.

"I'm
not messing it up," Tony said, "I'm on Facebook. You said to do the things we
normally do."

"Fine,
just don't be like that nitwit in Louisiana they tracked down." He put a key into
an electronic lock on the glass back doors, which, Jamie noticed, was the same
as the lock on the upstairs bedroom door. There was a soft
click
, and
Bailino slid the glass door open and stepped outside.

"I'm
not a wanted man," Tony muttered under his breath.

"That's
for sure," Leo said, which made Benny laugh again.

"You
better quit laughing, you fuck," Tony said and then got up and went into the
kitchen to grab a box of Pop-Tarts from the cabinet. "Anybody else want one?"

Benny
and Leo's hands went up.

The
little girl started to say something, but her mouth was full of crumbs. She
clapped her hands with her fingertips pressing together.

"Yay,"
Jamie whispered and poured more Cheerios onto her napkin, stealing another
glance at the computer. All she needed was thirty seconds to log onto her
profile and get out a quick message, but she could feel Leo's eyes on her, and
she averted her gaze and looked out the glass back doors.

"How
do you spell
judgment
?" Benny asked Joey, who appeared lost in music,
his head nodding up and down.

"Joey,
I'm talkin' to you!" Benny pulled the book out of his hands.

Joey
blinked and took off his headphones. "What?"

"
Judgment
.
How do you spell it?"

"J-U-D-G-E-M-E-N-T,
you moron," said Leo from the living room.

"There's
no
e
," Joey said, putting his headphones back on.

"What
do you mean there's no fuckin'
e
? You mean the one after the
g
?
That can't be right," Leo said.

"I
think he's right, Leo," Benny said, looking at the newspaper. "There's only
eight boxes for the letters, so it fits without the
e
."

"Would
you look at that?" Leo stood up and wandered over to the dining room table. "Did
you know that, Sunshine? That the word
judgment
only has one
e
?"

Jamie
pretended to assist the baby by flattening and reflattening the creases of her
onesie.

"Yo,
I'm talkin' to you," Leo said, getting closer, when Bailino stepped back into
the house.

"What
a fuckin' day out there. Gorgeous. Gotta be 70 degrees."

"Now
what the fuck you doin'?" Leo said, watching Tony unscrew a bottle of powdered cinnamon.

"Did
you know that sniffing cinnamon actually boosts brainpower?" Tony said.

"Really?
Maybe you should pour the whole thing on your head."

"Oh,
you're in rare form today, Leo," Tony said, handing him a Pop-Tart, and then
tossing one in front of Benny before sitting back at the computer.

"You
eat?" Bailino asked Jamie.

Jamie
shook her head no. "I'm not hungry."

"You
should eat," Bailino said. "What do you want?"

"I'll
just take an apple."

"Good."
Bailino took an apple from a fruit basket and pulled out a stool next to her.
"I have to leave here for a few hours to take care of some things." He rubbed
the apple on his slacks until the sides developed a dull sheen and handed it to
Jamie. "I expect you to watch this child, to keep her quiet and happy. Understand?"

Jamie
nodded.

"I
asked you if you understood."

"Yes,"
Jamie said.

"Good
girl," Bailino said, squeezing her chin.

"You
want to take her for a walk?" Joey had taken off his headphones and was
speaking to Jamie.

"Outside?"
Jamie asked with a hint of enthusiasm. She took a bite of the apple, while the
child pushed Cheerios around the counter with her hands.

"Yeah,
she could probably use the sunlight," Joey said.

Jamie
looked at Bailino, who nodded his approval.

"Give
me a second. I just want to log out," Tony said, typing at the keyboard.

"You
don't have to log off," Joey said.

"And
leave her with you?" Leo said. "You've gotta be kidding."

"They'll
be fine," Bailino said, slipping on a jacket.

"Yeah,
well, I'll be watching from the back," Leo said to Jamie. "So don't get any
ideas. That would be bad
judgment
."

With
the baby in her arms, Jamie followed Joey outside, and it was as if she'd
entered Oz: Birds were singing, the colors seemed brighter, and there was a
slight morning breeze. Even the baby let out a tiny coo as she blinked her eyes
in the sunlight, and then she straightened her body in Jamie's arms.

"What's
the matter?" Jamie asked and then realized the little girl wanted to be put
down. She placed her on the ground, and her bent legs stood tentatively,
wobbling. Jamie tried to hold her hands, but she pulled them away and tried to
take a step on her own, then toppled over.

"I'll
help you," Jamie said, grabbing both hands and pulling the child up to a stand.
The little girl pushed her tiny socked feet forward while Jamie held her and
started walking across the manicured lawn.

From
inside, Bailino and Leo watched them.

"Stay
away from her," Bailino said, his eyes on Jamie.

"What,
only you can have all the fun?"

"You
think I think this is fun?" Bailino took a sip of his coffee and set the cup
down on the counter. "I have better things to do."

"Oh,
really? Like what? Accept another award, maybe?"

Bailino
ignored him. "I have to go. You think you can handle things while I'm gone."

"Oh,
yes," Leo said with sarcasm. "Who took care of your mess last night?"

"That
wasn't my mess."

"Oh,
no? So is that your mess out there?" Leo pointed at Jamie.

"Listen,
Leo, we have to put up with each other for a few days. Let's just do it and get
it over with, and we can be on our way."

"Fine
by me."

Bailino
grabbed his keys and walked out the back door.

"I'll
be back soon," Bailino called out to Jamie, who watched him hop into a white
Ford Flex and pull out of the driveway. The little girl stopped to examine a
ladybug, and Jamie stood up and stretched—her back was hurting from hunching
over. Joey, who was a few steps ahead, took the headphones out of his ears.

"You
all right?" he asked.

She
nodded. "You're Joey, right?"

Joey
looked back at the house. He kicked a small rock.

"Just
keep your head down, do what they say, and you'll get out of this thing," he
whispered.

His
words surprised her. She glanced at Leo who was still watching them from the
back door. "I don't think so." Jamie could feel her eyes water. "After what I saw?"

"You
just have to keep quiet. Can you do that?"

Charlotte reached for Jamie's hands, and she picked up the
little girl, who continued walking along the grass.

"I
don't know," Jamie said. "I don't know if I can do that."

"You'd
be surprised at what you can do."

Jamie
studied the young man. He reminded her a little of Edward, tall and pale, with
a long neck and sprinkling of freckles on his nose and cheeks. He kept blowing
the hair out of his eyes, but his bangs would always fall back down. They
walked for a few minutes in silence.

"Who
are you listening to?" she asked.

"Switchfoot.
Do you know them?"

"Sure,
I've heard of them. Kind of like an alternative rock band, right?"

"Yep.
They have this new sound ever since they broke with their record company." There
was genuine enthusiasm in Joey's voice. "What do you listen to?"

"Oh,
nothing special." Her thoughts turned to Bob, who liked to call her Ms. Top
Forty, because her musical tastes were so cliché and uninteresting.

"No,
serious. There's gotta be someone you really like."

Jamie
shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know... Pink?"

"Pink's
cool." Joey smiled. "Kind of a badass, but feminine too, you know?" He looked
toward the cabin; they were about a city-street block's worth of distance from
the glass doors. "We should turn back."

"It's
nice around here," Jamie said, ignoring him. She wanted to stay as far away
from the cabin as possible and keep surveying the area. The woods stretched as
far as the eye could see—an openness lacking in her Long Island suburb where
backyards resembled little fiefdoms, cordoned off with their six-foot-high PVC
fences. She often dreamt of living in a place like this where she could stroll
unwatched by neighbors and collect her thoughts, maybe write. But now the woods
felt too open and clandestine, as if she were floating in space away from
civilization, and no one could hear her scream.