The Big Picture (39 page)

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Authors: Jenny B. Jones

BOOK: The Big Picture
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My mother walks backward to the door, her eyes never leaving mine. I hear her clumsy feet on the stairs.

And I reach into my pocket and pull out my cell phone.

My hands tremble, and I fumble with the buttons.

I shut it.

This is my mother. My only family. I can’t do this to her.

I squeeze my eyes shut and mumble a quick prayer. A plea with God.

The word
amen
is no more out of my mouth than I see James and Millie in my head. And Maxine.

Bobbie Ann Parker is
not
my only family. Family doesn’t do this to someone. A mother doesn’t hurt her child.

“I need the police here immediately. I have an escaped criminal in my house.” My throat convulses around a lump of tears. “It’s my mom.”

Chapter forty-one

THE BEDROOM DOOR SLAMS AGAINST the wall as my mom pushes her way back in. “Do you think I’m stupid? There’s no money in there.”

“Mom, you’re not in your right mind. Don’t do something you’re going to regret.”

“I regret listening to you.” She raises her hand to strike me again, but this time I’m ready. I catch it mid-swing and hold it, giving just a little twist. With my eyes I dare her to push it.

“They do keep money in there. Maybe they used it this week.” I don’t know. Grounded girls don’t get to go to the grocery store.

“You’re a liar.”

“And you’re strung out.”

“You think you’re so smart,” she sneers, then pushes away from me. I stumble back into the wall. “Find me some credit cards.”

“You took the only one I had. The rest are with James and Millie — who should be here any time.”

“Then find some jewelry.” She advances on me again, grabbing my bedside lamp. “Go.”

I know Millie has a jewelry box in her room. She has her first
wedding set in there and a ring her grandmother gave her. I can’t stand the thought of my mom’s dirty hands on them. “No.”

Her face is flushed red, and her lip curls. “What did you say?” The lamp shakes in her hands.

“I said no. I’m not giving you anything of the Scotts’.”

And the woman who brought me into this world, who took me to my first day of kindergarten, who would sit down with me and watch
Gilmore Girls
, goes ballistic. She leaps for me, fists swinging, spit flying out of her mouth, shrieking like a madwoman.

I put my hands in front of my face and get ready to take her down. And then I hear a sound that I would never have called beautiful. A police siren.

My mom freezes, her eyes frantic. She drops the lamp and runs from one side of the room to the other. She darts to the window and looks out. Then looks down.

“You can’t jump, Mom.”

“Shut up! Just shut up! How could you do this to me?” Her words are darts into my heart.

She makes a leap for my door, but I throw myself in front of it. She reaches around me and claws for the knob.

I hear the heavy stomping on the stairway, and that’s when I let her go.

And dissolve onto the floor, my head on my knees. Breath ragged. Shaking limbs. Choking sobs.

I block out the sounds of struggle and commotion below. I hear my mom scream, and I cover my ears like I’m four. And I stay that way, with my arms wrapped around my body, rocking back and forth until the noises stop.

And then gentle arms are wrapping around me.

James.

“Katie? Katie, are you okay?” He takes in the destroyed bedroom. “Talk to me.”

“I’m fine. I’m okay.”

Millie kneels beside me. “Did she hurt you?”

I swipe my eyes. “No.” I shake my head, at a loss to describe the last ten minutes. “Did she — did they get her?”

“Yes.” Millie pulls the hair away from my face, then her eyes widen as she discovers my cheek. “Did she — ”

“It’s nothing.” I brave a half-smile. “She’s so out of it. She wanted money.”

“And you called the police?” James asks.

“Yeah. I called the police on my own mom.”

Millie grabs my chin. “You did the right thing. Do you understand me? There’s no telling what could’ve happened or what she would’ve done, Katie. You are a brave, courageous girl, and we love you.”

The tears flow again, and I sniff before I drown in my own snot.

“We are
never
letting you go. Do you hear me? Never.” Millie pulls me into a hug. “I’m so sorry we weren’t here to protect you. We should’ve never left you alone until your mom was found.”

We all jump at the knock on the door. A policeman enters. “We’ve got Mrs. Parker in the car. She’s not going to hurt you anymore.”

 

AT TWO A.M., I LIE AWAKE and review the night’s events. The policeman said my mom wouldn’t hurt me anymore, but that wasn’t exactly true. At some point maybe I will get over my guilt at turning my own mother in. But not for a while. At some point I will not relive the past few months and try to figure out something I could’ve done to save her. But not for a while. And at some point I will be able to write her a letter and tell her I still love her.

But not for a very long while.

Chapter forty-two

I SLEEP RIGHT THROUGH THE pancake breakfast.

When I slink downstairs, rubbing my eyes and yawning, Millie sits in the breakfast nook, sipping coffee.

“Good morning.” I head to the fridge, but she beats me to it.

“Just sit down. I’ll fix you a good breakfast.”

“Millie, I’m really not in the mood for a tofu scramble this morning.”

She smiles and ushers me to a seat at the table. “How about waffles?”


Real
waffles?”

“Though the preservatives are against my better judgment . . . yes.” Pots and pans rattle as she gets out her supplies. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Not much. You?”

“No. James and Mother are at the pancake breakfast. I hope they do well.”

“Yeah, Frances is counting on it.” And I am too. I don’t think anyone in In Between but the mayor wants the drive-in to shut down. “The fund isn’t anywhere near what it will take to save Bubba’s, though.”

“You never know what could happen. Don’t count it out yet.”

We talk some more about my mom and last night. But talking can only do so much. It’s going to be a long time before the images of the past few days aren’t stuck with me like a bad tattoo.

“Well, look who woke up.” Maxine flounces into the kitchen an hour later. She gives me a loud smooch on my cheek. “I’ve got just the thing to cover up that bruise on your face. Can’t have you taking the runway all multicolored.”

“I was thinking of calling Frances and telling her I’m not going to do it.”

Maxine feigns shock and collapses into the seat beside me. “What? And break the heart of every boy in town? I don’t think so.”

“I just don’t feel like it. And I don’t think my twirling around the stage is going to send the drive-in fund over the top.”

“Katie, this town needs you. And your little brainiac friend needs you. She will flip her spastic lid if you bail now.”

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

 

BY FIVE O’CLOCK MY FACE HURTS. Not from my mom’s hand, but from Maxine’s.

“No more makeup, Maxine. Seriously, back away.” I shove her big powder puff away for the last time. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” It’s like all the adrenaline from last night short-circuited my system, and now I’m just drained. I want to crawl into bed with a good book and stay there for a few days.

“Pucker up, sweet cheeks. You need some gloss on those lips.”

“I look like a pageant reject. Enough makeup.” I sidestep my foster grandmother and slip out of the bathroom. “Let’s just go.”

James whistles as I descend the stairs. “Do you want to drive?” He holds up the keys.

I pluck them from his fingers and wait for the family in the car.

As James and Millie chatter in the backseat, Maxine keeps me company in the front, belting out a Justin Timberlake song. “I’m
bringing sexy back!” I listen to her off-key warble for a full minute before cranking up Millie’s radio.

At the Valiant I say good-bye to the family and make my way backstage, where everyone is to meet. When I see Frances, she instantly pulls me into a death-grip hug and demands a recount of last night. I give her the short version.

“Katie, I know last night was hideous. And I’m really proud of you for going through with the date auction. This is probably the last thing you want to do.”

It was the last thing I wanted to do
before
my mom made a guest appearance. “I’m fine.”

“Let’s just pray we get enough money. This is the last fund-raiser, and you know the mayor has the wrecking crew ready and waiting.”

Chelsea weaves through the throng of girls and greets us. Her smile is hesitant. She still doesn’t get she’s pretty much one of us now. No matter what she was like before, her slate’s been wiped clean. Her super-snotty slate.

“Hi, girls.” She looks like a movie star in her bohemian sundress and oversized earrings. And if I’m not mistaken, those are new highlights. “This is nerve-wracking, isn’t it? I mean to go out there and wait for someone to” — she makes a disgusted face — “bid on you.”

“But it’s all for a good cause,” Frances says. “The date is all paid for and donated by local businesses, so it should be a good time no matter who you end up with.”

Chelsea and I look at each other and giggle. “Yeah, right.” I can see the dorks counting their change for me.

Frances consults a clipboard. “Chelsea, you’re up third. So you’ve got about ten minutes.”

I check my name on the list and see I’m pretty far down toward the bottom. “I’m going to go see if Sam’s here.” I also saw Mabel Doolittle’s name on the list. What if he bids on her? He can’t! Maybe if I talked to him one more time.

When I walk out into the theatre, I notice the seats filling up
quickly. Yep, many, many people in here. My own little dress suddenly feels too tight. All these people will be staring at me. Saying things like, “Oh, that girl’s not worth more than five bucks.” Or “She comes with a month’s free video rentals.” It’s a little humbling to know part of your allure is that you’re a package deal with a few DVDs and an all-you-can-eat plate of pork chops at Ida Mae’s House of Vittles.

I make my way through the crowds and breathe in some fresh air in the less crowded lobby.

“Do not bid on her.”

I freeze, but don’t turn around.

“Seriously, spread the word. Do
not
bid on Chelsea.”

I step behind a large man and peek around him. Chelsea’s former friends break from their circle and spread out, catching anyone from In Between High they can find.

Her ex-best friend Jordan Landers snickers with another girl. “I want total humiliation. Nothing less.” And she struts away.

“Katie!” Charlie waves from across the room. With his quarterback’s skills, he works the crowd and is at my side in no time. “They’re starting. Come on.” His eyes linger on my face. Then my outfit. “You look great, by the way.”

I smile distractedly as he leads me through the doors. “Thanks. But Charlie — ”

A select group of the Chihuahua marching band plays a slow song as Frances welcomes everyone to the date auction. She explains the rules, and everyone applauds.

“Charlie, I need to talk to you.”

Hannah glides onto the stage against a background of tacky dog decorations and an arch of ivy. Frances reads off various facts about our friend. “Hannah likes ice cream, puppies, and yodeling.”

The bid climbs until it reaches sixty-two dollars. “From gentleman number . . .” Frances squints into the crowd. “Forty-seven.”

Hannah peers into the crowd but is ushered off before she sees her date.

“And next we have the lovely Mabel Doolittle.” Mabel waddles out in a matching polyester blouse and skirt, an outfit that probably saw better days when Madonna dominated MTV and Reagan was in office. She turns an awkward little circle as the crowd claps.

“Do I hear ten dollars?”

I see Sam Dayberry’s hand slowly rise. Mabel smiles.

“Do I hear twenty?” Frances nods.

“What about thirty?”

Again Sam bids. His hand may be saying yes, but his face sure isn’t. My heart races with hope. He looks miserable! Excellent.

“One hundred dollars!”

A wave of murmurs passes through the audience as we all swivel our heads to the new bidder.

“One hundred dollars for the beautiful Mabel Doolittle.” The mayor stands and holds up his number. His eyes dare anyone to bid against him.

“Can anyone beat one hundred?” Frances asks. “And the date goes to” — she forces the words out like rotten meat — “the very same mayor who condemned the drive-in.” And he earns a polite golf clap.

“Next up is a lovely soon-to-be junior from In Between High, Miss Chelsea Blake.”

“Charlie — ” I tug on his sleeve. He is captivated by the sight of her but after another tug wrenches his eyes away from the stage.

“Yes?”

“Remember when you told me Chelsea needed you?” He nods blankly. “You were right. She does. She needs you now.” I fill him in on what I overheard in the lobby. “Charlie, that’s the girl who should get your bid tonight.”

“What about you?”

I shake my head.

“We’re not going to happen, are we?” he whispers.

“I believe she needs you more.”

“She and I really are just friends.” He stares at his hands. “But she’s changing, Katie.”

“And you like this new Chelsea.” I can see it in his face. “It’s okay.” I shrug and grace him with a smile. “I just dated you because you’re the captain of the football team.”

“I knew you were a user.” He laughs and places his warm hand over mine. “Thank you.”

Frances opens up the bids.

“I guess I’ll start my bidding.”

I stand up and toss him a wink. “She’s totally worth it. She comes with a double cheeseburger combo meal.”

And so I walk back to take my place behind the curtain. Alone. Knowing there is now a really good chance no one is going to bid on me and make all my date auction dreams come true. I will stand there onstage. One girl and her pork chop package. Rejected. Maybe James will take pity on me. Of course, then I’ll be the girl who was so pathetic her foster dad had to cough up some bucks.

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