Monster - A. Lee Martinez [44]
“What was it?”
Judy tried to remember, but the memory was slippery. Thinking about it gave her a bit of a headache too.
“I don’t know. I think it was a wild animal attack.”
“Animals? Like dogs or something? How the hell did dogs get into your apartment?”
“It wasn’t dogs.”
“What was it?”
Judy shut her eyes and dredged her memory but came up with only the vaguest details. None of them made much sense. “I don’t know. Maybe it was dogs.”
Greta gave her that look. Judy was all too familiar with it. It was accusing, disappointed, and suspicious all at once.
“You’re always doing this,” said Greta. “You show up with some ridiculous excuse that doesn’t make a damn bit of sense and expect me or Dad to bail you out.”
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do. Remember that time you got in that car accident?”
“That wasn’t my fault.”
“And we’re supposed to just believe you hit a cow in the middle of the city?”
“It wasn’t a cow,” said Judy. “It was… something else.”
“And what about when you burned down that Burger King?”
“I didn’t start that fire. I am not an arsonist. That therapist Dad sent me to said so, didn’t she?”
“Someone started that fire.”
“Wasn’t me.”
“What about that motel room you destroyed on your senior-year field trip?”
Judy only distantly remembered that, but she was fairly certain that hadn’t been her fault either.
“It’s just bad luck,” said Judy.
“That’s a lot of bad luck for one person.”
“You don’t think I know that? Just the other day at the grocery store I was nearly killed by wild animals.”
“More wild animals?” Greta fixed her with that look again.
“Wolves or lions or apes or something. If you don’t believe me, you can ask my boss. He was there.”
Greta appeared unconvinced.
Judy grabbed the phone. “Here. The city even sent a guy. I bet if you call that’ll show in their records.”
Greta took the phone and hung it up. “Maybe later. One of us has a job to think about.”
“I have a job.”
“Yes, I’m sure that aisle stocking is a rich and rewarding career?”
Greta’s attempts at sarcasm always sounded more like questions. Judy let it slide. The arguments were always the same. She wasn’t interested in them anymore.
“Damn. I’m running late, and I’m driving the carpool today. Just stay as long as you need to get back on your feet,” said Greta, sounding far more put upon than Judy deemed appropriate. “Nancy has a sleepover after school. Help yourself to whatever is in the refrigerator.”
“Thanks,” said Judy. “None of that stuff was my fault, you know.”
There was no way for Greta to understand. She’d always had the charmed life, never had to deal with this… stuff. Judy struggled to come up with a better word for it, but that was all she had. It was just a bunch of stuff that didn’t make much sense and that she couldn’t remember clearly. If she ever got a job that gave her decent health insurance, she might look into getting her brain scanned. In the meantime, it’d be nice if once, just once, Greta had some of her own… stuff to deal with. Nothing terrible. Just a little misfortune to show how easily a perfect life could go off track.
Never happen, thought Judy.
Mary got into Greta’s car. “You’re late.”
Greta shrugged. “Sorry. Family crisis.”
Mary turned her head and stared out at the horizon to illustrate her complete lack of interest in Greta’s personal life. Greta wasn’t too keen on discussing it herself, so she was happy to let it drop.
“Don’t mention it to Jeanine,” she said, as if she had to. Mary wasn’t much of a talker. They’d been carpooling for two years now, and Greta knew absolutely nothing about Mary except that she had a son (name: unknown), she didn’t eat marshmallows, and she liked to read Danielle Steele novels.
Jeanine, on the other hand, loved to talk. It wasn’t that she was self-centered. She just despised silence. If there was a quiet moment, she just had to fill it. She was already talking the moment Greta’s pulled her car to the curb.
“Hey, ladies. You’re tardy.” Mary’s remark on Greta’s lateness had been an accusation, but Jeanine’s was playful. She winked in the rearview mirror.