The Other Child (8 page)

Two weeks had passed since Leslie’s ill-fated birthday party and the July day dawned muggy and sweltering. It was too hot to do anything, Karen decided, as she stirred two teaspoons of sugar into Mike’s freshly ground coffee and placed the cup on a tray with a plate of Fig Newtons. She hadn’t found time to bake and today wasn’t a good day to light the oven. At least Mike had an air conditioner for the darkroom. Without it the third floor would be stifling.

Karen picked up the tray and started up the stairs, groaning a bit. She was so clumsy lately. In the past week her weight had skyrocketed and her ankles were swollen. Her energy had all but disappeared. She didn’t remember this kind of thing happening when she was pregnant with Leslie, but she was born before the really hot weather set in. Rob Comstock claimed they’d have a lot more heat before the summer was over. It was only mid-July and he’d predicted August would be a killer.

Karen hesitated at the darkroom door, wondering if she should disturb Mike. He’d worked most of the night, checking for light leaks. She knew he was frustrated, but perhaps a little coffee and something to eat would help. She knocked softly, holding the tray in one hand.

“Yes! Come in if you have to.” Mike’s voice came through the door, impatient and tired.

“I brought you a little snack.” Karen breathed in deeply and smiled. Perhaps they could have their coffee together up here. It was deliciously cool with the air conditioner on high. “Did you find the light leak yet, honey?”

Mike’s face was a study in irritation. “No. I haven’t found the damn leak. Now I have to reprint every one of these and hope it doesn’t happen again.”

He forced a smile for her benefit, but she could tell he felt more like scowling. “Thanks for the tray, but I can’t take a break now if I want to get done on time. Why don’t you just leave it on the table?”

Karen set the tray down and backed out, leaving him to his work. He’d probably forget all about the coffee until it was stone cold. At least she’d made the effort. He was working much too hard lately, but Karen had wisely kept her silence. In a sense his problems with the darkroom were her fault. She and Leslie had talked him into buying this house, and building the darkroom had taken longer than he’d expected. Now he was behind schedule and the pressure was on.

She stopped at the hall window and looked out at the lawn. Leslie was sitting under a tree, paging through a book. It made Karen’s heart ache to see her daughter alone in their huge yard. She should be out playing with friends or swimming in the river. She understood Leslie’s problem, but that didn’t solve it. The Cold Spring children weren’t very friendly and they had different interests, but Leslie wasn’t even trying. Perhaps she’d send Leslie to the store when the list was finished. She might meet some of the other children on the way and invite them home to play. It wasn’t good for her to be so isolated.

Karen was sitting at the kitchen table working on the shopping list when Leslie came racing in. “Can I go up to the tower room for a minute, Mom?” she asked. “I want to check something out.”

“Just a minute, kitten.” Karen wrote
BROWN RICE
on the growing list. “Then I want you to go to the store for me.”

“Okay, Mom.” Leslie’s voice trailed off as she ran for the stairs. She had a new idea for a picture. She’d focus the telescope on the river and do a series of the kids playing in the water. The telescope was wonderful. She could take pictures without even leaving her favorite room.

Leslie bounded up the stairs, then stopped at the third-floor landing and frowned. She’d forgotten which setting to use on her camera. She’d better check with Mike so she wouldn’t make a mistake.

Mike was in the darkroom, his head bent over the enlarger, when Leslie knocked on the door. “Just a sec!” he hollered out, hurrying his print a little. It came up as he’d expected it would, and he swore impatiently.

“Okay—come in! What is this, Grand Central Station?”

Leslie pushed open the door cautiously. Now she wished she hadn’t bothered Mike. She could have looked up the setting in one of her photography books.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Leslie said contritely. “I just wanted to take a picture of the river through the telescope and I forgot exactly how to do it.”

“Can’t you see I’m busy now?” Mike ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. He looked a mess, shirt rumpled and eyes red. “We went over this the other day. I told you to use F eight at a thousandth of a second. You focus the telescope, set the camera on infinity, and clamp it on. That’s simple enough, isn’t it?”

He noticed her silence, and his voice changed. “Hey . . . it’s all right, honey.” He was ashamed of himself when he saw her lower lip tremble. “I’m just aggravated, that’s all. Nothing’s going right in here today. I guess it’s time to knock off and get some sleep.”

Leslie relaxed a bit at Mike’s apology. She walked over to look at the prints in the wash and nodded. She could see that Mike had a problem.

“The highlights are really gray, Mike. That resin-coated paper sure is flat, isn’t it?”

“It’s not the paper. I’ve got a fog problem somewhere. I figure it’s either a light leak or my safety filter’s going. It’s the third time I printed these negatives this morning and they’re still foggy.”

Leslie was wise enough not to comment. She could tell that Mike was frustrated. The prints were definitely not good enough for a feature.

“Maybe this house isn’t such a good place for a darkroom, after all,” Mike said with a sigh. “First we had the dust problem and now this. I’m beginning to think the whole setup’s wrong.”

Leslie tried to be helpful. “Do you want me to get you some coffee, Mike?”

“No, thanks anyway, honey.” Mike rubbed his chin where the bristle was beginning to itch. He needed a shave and a shower. Then he could think clearly and fix whatever was wrong with the setup in here. Actually, what he wanted right now was a stiff drink, and that was out of the question. He’d been on the wagon for three years now, ever since he married Karen.

“If you have to reshoot, I’ll help you,” Leslie volunteered. She felt better when Mike smiled at her.

“I appreciate that, but reshooting won’t solve the basic problem.” He ruffled her hair. “I’ll pick up a new safety filter this afternoon and see if that does it. If it doesn’t, I’ll just have to try something else.”

Leslie was really sharp to have noticed what was wrong with the prints. Mike thought she was going to make a first-rate photographer someday. He just wished she wasn’t such a loner here in Cold Spring.

“Honey, I’ve been thinking.” Mike’s expression sobered. “You’ve been spending too much time in the house lately. Why don’t you go out and play? Call Taffy or one of the other kids and invite yourself over. You haven’t seen any of them since your birthday party and I think you should make the first move. They’ll probably be glad to see you.”

Leslie’s lips tightened into a straight, stubborn line. “I don’t want to see any of them,” she declared. “They don’t like me, and I don’t like them.”

“Come on, Leslie. Be reasonable.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “These kids just aren’t used to you yet, that’s all. It always takes a while when you move into a new neighborhood. They’ll never get to like you if you don’t make the effort. Your mother would be tickled pink if you made a couple of new friends.”

“I’ll try, Mike.” Leslie’s voice was very small and she didn’t meet his eyes. Mike was wrong, but it would be impolite to argue with him. She knew the Cold Spring kids would never like her, no matter what she did. Mike just didn’t understand.

“Run along now, honey.” Mike gave her a smile. “The magazine’s in a hurry for these.”

Leslie closed the door of the darkroom quietly behind her. She really shouldn’t have bothered Mike when he was so busy.

“Can I go up to the cupola when I come back, Mom?” Leslie took the shopping list from Karen and folded it carefully. “I want to take some pictures with my new telescope.”

“I guess so.” Karen smiled. “If you meet any of the kids, you can invite them, too. Taffy might like to see your telescope.”

First Mike and now her mother. Leslie sighed deeply. Why was it so important for her to have the Cold Spring kids for friends? She was perfectly happy all by herself.

“I’ll ask Taffy if I see her, Mom,” Leslie agreed readily. It was easy to agree because she had no intention of running into Taffy or any of the other kids. Most of them would be at the vacant lot or the swimming hole and she didn’t have to go near either place. She should be able to get to the store and back without running into anyone.

The late-morning sun was warm and the air smelled of freshly cut grass and clover. Leslie stretched her legs a little as she walked up the tree-shaded driveway and turned at the sidewalk. She didn’t mind running errands at all as long as she didn’t meet any of the kids.

She avoided the vacant lot, where she could hear a softball game in progress. She cut through the alley and ran the rest of the way to the store, her key brushing lightly against her chest. She wore it around her neck constantly now; it was like a good-luck charm to her. Of course she didn’t think it was magical anymore. Nothing would happen if she held it and squeezed it. At least she was pretty sure nothing would happen, but she hadn‘t quite dared to try it, not since that awful accident at her birthday party.

The store was cool and Leslie took her time, going up and down the aisles in order and placing a little checkmark in front of the items on her mother’s list as she put them in her cart. She didn’t want to miss anything and risk being sent back for a forgotten item.

She was almost through now. The cart was partially filled and she needed only a loaf of rye bread to complete the list. Leslie parked the cart behind a pyramid of cans and ran back to the bakery section. She was about to push the cart back out into the aisle when she heard them talking.

“Every time I see her, she’s by herself. I don’t understand why the other children don’t play with her.”

Leslie recognized Mrs. Allen’s voice. Mrs. Comstock was with her. Leslie had seen them by the meat case.

“It’s just the other way around,” Marilyn Comstock retorted. “
She
won’t play with
them.
Taffy’s made the effort. Rob made her invite Leslie over, but she just doesn’t fit in. She thinks she’s too good for Cold Spring. Look at those designer clothes she wears. Can you imagine dressing a child like that? Plain old JCPenney is good enough for Taffy, and we’re not exactly destitute, either.”

“You can’t blame the child, Marilyn.” Roberta Allen sounded righteous. “You can see where she gets her attitudes. Did you notice the suit Karen wore to your house last week? It was raw silk and must have cost a fortune. She’ll probably have her maternity clothes designed in Paris!”

Both women laughed loudly and Leslie caught her breath. She stood glued to the spot as Roberta continued.

“I told Bud he had to be nice to Leslie.” Roberta’s voice was firm. “It’s not fair to judge the child by her mother. That big, splashy birthday party was Karen’s doing, I’m sure. She was just showing off. The poor little girl was probably embarrassed to death.”

“That could be.” Marilyn sounded doubtful. “But I think Leslie’s just as bad as her mother. Taffy says she’s terribly stuck-up. Her manners are dreadful. Do you know she hasn’t called once since the party to see how Taffy’s hornet stings are healing? All she did was send a little thank-you note for the handkerchiefs.”

Leslie’s mouth dropped open. She had called twice! And she’d even invited Taffy over on the last call!

“Wasn’t that party strange?” Mrs. Allen had lowered her voice a bit. “It doesn’t seem right that every child got stung, except Leslie. Something like that almost makes me believe in those old haunted-house stories.”

“Haunted houses in this day and age?” Marilyn laughed sharply. “I don’t even consider that kind of nonsense! It’s the people inside that makes a house look bad and that place has had its share of strange people . . . crazy, old Mrs. Appleton . . . the man from Omaha who shot his wife . . . the young couple that disappeared in the middle of the night in their nightclothes.... It just attracts them, I guess.”

“I still feel sorry for that little girl.” Mrs. Allen lowered her voice even further, but it was clearly audible. “Having a mother who puts on airs, and who knows what the child’s real father was like?”

Leslie’s knees began to shake and she reached up to finger the key around her neck nervously. She didn’t want to hear any more, but she didn’t dare leave. Mrs. Allen and Mrs. Comstock would see her and know she’d been listening if she so much as moved. She was trapped here, forced to listen to their awful gossip. The more she thought about it, the more angry she became. Someone should stop them from saying mean things. Someone should tell them it isn’t right to tell lies about people.

Without realizing it, Leslie was gripping the key tightly. She gulped when she heard the familiar buzzing voice in her ear. It was the voice from her birthday party. Somehow she had wished hard enough and Christopher was here!