Picture This (16 page)

Chapter 27

Melissa

M
elissa knew the truth when she saw it, and Natalie was not the real thing. That girl was not hopeless and helpless like everyone thought. And that cutting on her arms? Oh please. Melissa lived in the unending daily drama of high school, and she saw plenty of girls and a few boys who took a razor or something sharp to their arms and made desperate but surface scratches, bubbling up in lines of dotted blood. And why the arms? Because they wanted everyone to see. Why did this make adults go completely stupid?

Melissa knew a thing or two about deception, real deception. She was a master at it, and a true master never, ever lets anyone know about the lie. Last year she had fooled her mother, her father, and her track coach into thinking she was a lean, muscled runner, which she was, but she had also been a starving runner, restricting her food to a squeaky three hundred calories a day at the peak of it. Now she was up to nine hundred calories a day, some days even more, and she needed every ounce of courage she had to keep from screaming as flesh began to soften her angular shape.

Rocky had known about the anorexia, but she had never spoken the words out loud, and for that, Melissa was grateful. It was like they made an unspoken agreement. Rocky was a psychologist, but she didn't play that card. It was an honor thing; Rocky had given Melissa the impression that she knew how to wrestle anorexia to the ground. Even now, Rocky would sometimes get near the topic, but then back off, as if to say, “Okay, kid, you handled it and you're getting better, but I'm here if you need me.”

It had been Cooper who had truly seen her and dragged her back, with his big soft mouth, the way he relished his food and burped at her like he was giving her a lover's kiss. The way he kept her feet warm when Rocky let him stay overnight at Melissa's house was almost more than she could bear back then, back when she was being crushed by her fear of food. She could almost hear the dog say,
Come here, girl. I know who you truly are, and I still want you.

It seemed so long ago, and in high school time it was long ago. She was on the verge of being a senior, light-years from the quandary of junior year. Even now she could walk into a room filled with fifty high school girls and tell within thirty seconds which ones had anorexia and which ones were throwing up. She didn't know how she could do it, because she never could have known before the bad year of not eating, but now she could. If she had to describe the dominant features, other than the skin pulled too tight across their faces and a slightly chilled look to that skin, she had to say it was the way they assessed each other, each one looking for the thinnest, then hating and loving the thinnest one like she was a doomed princess. Sometimes there was a dark haze around the eyes, but the whole thing happened so quickly, it was hard to pick apart.

This new girl on the island, Natalie, was working something, but it wasn't the truth. Melissa saw it in her the first day when Rocky let her stay at her house, the way Natalie acted all careful and sad. She was spreading out like an oil spill, getting into the creases of everyone's skin before they knew it, and when that happened they all went blind and couldn't see Natalie, not the way she really was.

It had been wrong to follow Natalie, but there were so many things that Melissa had done wrong in the past that this was just one more. Melissa was still on the cross-country team, and she was four pounds heavier than she had been last year. The old Melissa felt it was wrong about the four pounds, and the new Melissa had to use every ounce of her strength not to give in to old Melissa. She'd kept waiting for her coach to say something, or her other teammates to call her fat, but so far no one did.

She worked out at the YMCA after her job checking people in at the front desk two days a week before taking the ferry home. She'd been walking along the sidewalk in Portland, still steaming from her workout, when she saw Natalie through the window of the Abernathy Silver shop. What the hell was she doing in there? Nobody in high school would hang out in a silver shop, unless they were with their parents. Natalie wasn't technically in high school, having escaped with her GED, but she was one of them. Melissa stood at the corner of the display window, looking sideways to be sure Natalie hadn't seen her. That's when she saw Natalie's hand slip like water from the jewelry that hung on the wall to her skirt pocket. She was perfectly situated: Natalie's body blocked the salesclerk from seeing her hand, and besides, the clerk was conveniently busy with two women who looked like they could afford to buy a ton of silver. Wait, was this right? Was the so precious Natalie shoplifting? Then she did it again. Shit and shit again.

So this is Rocky's special girl, the long-lost love child from her dead husband, the foster kid. She's a thief.

Melissa walked quickly down the street and stepped into the entryway to the bookstore. She didn't want Natalie to know she'd seen her.

Something lifted off Melissa; the metallic weight that sat on her thin bones dissipated as she rustled in her backpack for her camera. No, the camera was too big. She'd use her cell phone instead. She wanted to photograph the golden child, the oh-so-helpless girl who had dropped into their lives like a flesh-eating virus.

Natalie came out of Abernathy's, walked across the street, and approached a white van that was parked diagonally across from the bookstore. Natalie pushed the hair out of her eyes and dashed across the busy street, plunged her hand into her pockets, and tossed the jewelry into the driver's side window. Melissa cupped her hand around the cell phone.
Click, click, click.
The guy had on a hat and sunglasses and a long-sleeved shirt.
Click, click, click.
The van must have been sideswiped by a red car; a jagged red line remained along the driver's side. She tried to see the license plate, but a car from New Hampshire obstructed her view. The van made a right turn and was gone. Then Melissa pocketed her cell phone and stepped inside the bookstore. She gulped in a breath of air.

She had not actually gotten a photo of Natalie stealing, nor of her tossing the merchandise, but she did have a photo of Natalie with the profile of the man. Melissa couldn't bear the thought that Rocky might not believe her; she was all gooey-eyed about the girl. She didn't have anything real to show Rocky, and it would have to be fantastic before Rocky would believe her. What would this photo prove? Nothing.

From inside the bookstore, Melissa looked to see where Natalie was going next. Natalie was getting careless because she thought she had everyone fooled. Melissa would follow her and then hop back to the island before Natalie and go get Cooper. He was her damn dog, not Natalie's, and she wasn't giving up now that she had some ammunition.

Melissa followed Natalie for a few streets and then gave up when she entered the Portland Public Library. Natalie would just be using the library computers. Who cared about that? Melissa ran all the way down the hill to Commercial Street and nearly skipped to the ferry.

Chapter 28

Natalie

R
eturning to Rocky's cottage day after day was harder than Natalie anticipated. She'd been on the island for two weeks. Her storehouse of rancid resentment toward Rocky sometimes softened, and this worried her. Rocky tried so hard to cook food for her, baking lasagna in the summer when they could have had cottage cheese or peanut butter sandwiches. Natalie was annoyed by the sweat that ran along Rocky's face, the way she stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth when she burned her hand while baking, and the way Rocky talked to the dog as if he understood her. Feeling as if something foreign had seeped into her pores when she was asleep, Natalie shook her body to get rid of it.

Something had to give, and Natalie waited for opportunities. When she opened the door to the cottage, she felt her bones itch. Rocky was just like that statue on her table, the one with the chick playing the sax, clueless to the world around her, all giddy with music. Didn't Rocky know that people lie?

The cat bolted for freedom the minute Natalie entered, not even pausing to ask for food. Did the cat know something? She had watched the Animal Channel during one of several stints at a group home and knew that animals can sense fear and they know if someone doesn't like them. But that had been about horses. Maybe cats were different. The cat couldn't know that Franklin lived in an apartment in Portland, feeding Natalie all the help she needed from his computer-filled brain. The cat couldn't know any of that, but the cat didn't want to be around her, and she hoped Rocky wouldn't notice the way the cat was repelled by her. Natalie wanted the cat to go away. It shouldn't be hard to make a cat disappear if she had to. The dog was a different matter.

He sat by the door as if waiting for Rocky, looking occasionally over his shoulder at Natalie. The black dog reminded her of someone back in one of the six grade schools she'd attended. One of the schools had this grandparent program, and there was an old man who came in and read to the kids; that's all he did. But he had a loose smile like this dog, and all the kids wanted to be near him. Natalie hadn't sat near the old man but stood beyond reach, listening to him read.

Rocky had easily let Natalie move into the spare bedroom. “Temporarily,” Rocky had said. Until what? How much time did she have? Until DNA tests could be pulled together. Franklin reveled in the challenge that the DNA registry had produced.

“Clever,” Franklin had said. “They think this is a big whoop-de-doo, but I should be able to chisel through this in two days. One week, tops. Tell me what you need because I want to be in and out before they have time to blink. Secure database, my ass.”

Who says stuff like
big whoop-de-doo
? Computer geeks, that's who, with their pasty skin and poor hygiene. Franklin didn't know that it would be unnecessary to break through to the DNA tests, but the guy needed something to do and Natalie needed him. It was better if Franklin didn't know everything.

Rocky's cordless phone blinked a tiny red light. Messages. It would be a good idea to stay on top of those. She pressed the button to play. The first message was a man's voice.

“I got your message. Let's do a rewind. I miss you. Julie is filing for divorce, and neither of us are contesting, which I would have been happy to tell you, but . . . Nothing is entirely simple, and I didn't want the outcome of my marriage to be simple. It meant something. I want to talk to you. Call me back.”

Natalie tilted her head to one side and then hit the Delete button. A boyfriend for the grieving widow sounded like trouble. Best to eliminate him immediately. She wanted Rocky's full attention, and a boyfriend would dilute the impact. Time to send the boyfriend packing. The dog looked at her. “None of your business!” she said to him.

The second message was about a rabies clinic the following week. Some vet guy who wanted Rocky to help him advertise the clinic and then help him vaccinate a colony of cats over on Island Avenue. Having access to Rocky's phone was helpful. But Rocky also had a cell phone. How far did Franklin's freaky brain go? Could he tap into Rocky's cell phone too? That would be gold.

She heard Rocky drive up, slam the door of the truck, and walk up the steps. She'd been practicing at her personal archery range for several hours.

Natalie leapt to the couch and curled into a tight ball, grabbed the want ads of the Portland paper, and put her head on the throw pillow. She lifted her head sleepily when Rocky came in.

“Did you know that Cooper can tell when you're coming home about five minutes before you drive up?” said Natalie.

Rocky had just received a welcoming dance from the dog, his full-body gyration all spine-curling, tail-spinning joy.

“This is a small island. He must know I'm coming home before I do,” said Rocky, smiling. “What did you do today, besides being led around by Cooper? Were you sleeping? Are you feeling okay?” said Rocky, depositing a bag of groceries on the counter.

“I'm okay,” Natalie said softly, adding a half-smile. “I was waiting for one of the restaurants to call me back about a job. They said they'd call me this afternoon. That's why I was waiting here. I guess I did fall asleep. Um, you have a message. I saved it. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have played it, but I did. I thought it might be about a job, and then I remembered that I gave them my cell number. I'm sorry, I won't do it again.”

“Relax. My phone messages aren't all that interesting. Did someone lose a cat or something?”

Natalie sat up. “No. A vet guy called about a rabies clinic.”

“Now that is important. It's possible you've heard my one and only interesting call,” said Rocky. She sniffed the air.

The smell of heavily scented cleanser filled the air.

“I've been washing down all the cabinets. Tess stopped by and showed me how to do it. And that girl stopped by, your old neighbor. I keep forgetting her name. Marisa, is that it? I don't think she likes me. She's the kind of girl in high school who wouldn't like me.”

Rocky scratched Cooper at the base of his skull. “Do you mean Melissa? Why wouldn't she like you?”

“I can tell by the way she looks at me. She's jealous that I'm spending so much time with you.”

Rocky ran her fingers through her dark hair and sighed. “I wonder if there's a culture somewhere where teenage girls band together to protect each other rather than eviscerating each other,” she said. “It could just be about territory. Or about Cooper—Melissa is pretty tight with our big guy here. Let's call it that.”

Natalie opened her eyes wide, careful not to look left or right. “I'd never stop her from being with Cooper. That would be awful.”

“You're the newcomer. Just give it some time. Let's see these cabinets,” said Rocky.

Rocky opened one and howled with delight. “Now that's a different story. I can actually put all four plates in there without sticking to unknown substances. Nicely done, Martha Stewart.”

T
hey polished off a dinner of mac-and-cheese out of the box and canned green beans, a special request from Natalie. They sat on the deck with a spray can of Deep Woods insect repellent between them. Natalie slapped at the mosquitoes that were undeterred by the chemicals.

“Maybe Melissa is jealous,” said Natalie. “I'd understand if she was. I've never had anything before, or anyone, and now I've got you. I mean not really, I don't have you. That sounds weird. But you're like a cool person, and you're letting me stay here.”

Rocky laughed. “Would you please put that last part in writing for my brother? I've always told him I was cool, but I had no backup documentation.”

“I've been jealous of other kids for as long as I can remember, jealous of their mothers who drove them to school and kissed them good-bye, of their fathers who coached them in little kid soccer. I was jealous because they had clothes that weren't all skanked out. I get the jealousy part. I understand it.”

It was good to see Rocky laugh, to see her relaxed. Off guard.