Afterlife - Douglas Clegg [9]
“And that would lead to a fast divorce. Just like mom and dad.” Mel quickly changed the subject. “Hey, is Matty over his fever?”
Suddenly, on the monitor’s screen, Mel had just put the word “nod,” adding an “od” to the first “n” of “underground.” This really screwed with Julie’s plans to use the same squares.
“Over one obstacle and on to another. He’s not doing great. A bad episode today.”
“You sound like a wicked stepmother.”
“I am. I am. I love that kid. I just feel at a loss sometimes. I don’t understand so much about him. What he goes through. He was drawing things on his arms…in class…with his pen.”
Julie put in the letter “s” under the “u” of “underground.”
“Kids do that, I guess,” Mel said, although her voice had shifted slightly as if she were hiding her alarm.
Then Julie closed down her browser so that the Scrabble board disappeared.
“Hey, did you just destroy our game?” Mel asked.
“Let’s not play anymore. Too many things going on. Look, here’s the thing, Mel. He carved it into his skin. I mean gouged. These weird little drawings.”
“Jesus. Is he okay?”
“They cleaned him up, and he seems okay. I guess.”
“What’d the psych say?”
“Not much. The usual.”
“More meds?”
“I hate that stuff. But yes.”
“What were they of?”
“What do you mean?”
“The drawings? On his arms?”
“I’m not sure. He wouldn’t tell me. Looked like a sun maybe with sunbeams coming out of it, and then one of them looked like a bunch of circles. He talked about someone named Jeannie or Gina and something about his hand and how it was bad. I guess it was just one of his moments.”
“Aw. Poor kid. He’s been through a lot. You got to give him credit. And you, too. Hang in there, wicked stepmommy. How’s my darling niece?”
“Fine. Wonderful. She sat up with Matt and read him a bedtime story. He loved it. He was like a different kid than the one who cut into himself today. I wish the psychiatrist could…well, wishing won’t get me anywhere.”
“Aw, you’re quite a mommy. You give those kids extra butterfly kisses from Aunt Melanie.”
“Oh, I almost forgot. Livy told me to tell you that she expects to see more of you in the next few days.”
“She threatening me?” Mel laughed. “You know, she’s a lot like her gramma. Did I tell you about mom’s new hobby?” Mel always knew how to pull Julie off her worries and into funny anecdotes about their mother’s life. Mel regaled her with a long involved tale with a funny punch line about her mother wanting to open a used bookshop that only sold self-help books. “She said it’s because everyone needs to help themselves. She thinks it’s what changed her life. All those books on codependency and her diet books and that Dr. Phil book. And now she’s getting into ESP. I think she’ll end up being a witch.” They both laughed.
When they finally got off the phone, it was nearly midnight, and Mel signed off with her usual, “When you were born, you know what I told mom? I told her that you were going to be my favorite sister in the whole world. And you still are, thirty-four years later.”
“And it’s still easy, because I’m your only sister,” Julie chuckled. “Say goodnight, Gracie.”
“Good night, Gracie.”
After she’d hung up the phone, Julie drew out the previous Sunday’s New York Times magazine section and opened the page to the crossword puzzle. Puzzles helped her relax a bit, and although she had trouble with this one (nearly forgetting the name of the state bird of Hawaii—“Nene”—a crossword puzzle staple), it seemed to turn off some awful buzzing in the back of her head. She took a half-dose of Ambien to help get her to the sleeping point.
When sleep came, not long after, she thought she heard the phone ring, but it seemed to be in the wonderful dream she was having, so she didn’t try to answer it.
4
A feeling of intense physical excitement overcame her body, and he touched her hand, lightly, and held her wrist as if to restrain her. Then, she felt a tender shiver go through her, a distinct sexual charge. Hut was there, rubbing her, licking her nipples, but