My Stupid Girl (13 page)

Next I took my black eye liner and drew a
thin line on my eyelid. I added a thicker line under my eyes. Staring at my
eyes, I thought about my birth father briefly, how my grandma had told me I had
his eyes, dark green, nothing special. In my eyes there was a light, almost
golden brown color in the middle, around the pupil. I put mascara on, a little
thicker than usual. I found my lip rings I had taken off while I was sick,
someone had put them in a safe spot and made sure they were both facing out.
Then I stretched my gauges back into my ears, which didn't matter really
because my hair was completely covering them. Finally, a few more minutes and
some hair product gave me a completely concealed right eye. I looked through my
hair at my made-up face. Done. Good.

I opened my bedroom door and walked as
quietly as I could down the hall to the kitchen. There, sitting at the table,
were two very tired looking women. They were both sipping from mugs and talking
in low voices. Lucy was leaning in towards my grandma, listening to what she
was saying.

"He died a year ago. It was very hard
but it’s nice having David in the house. Things have been a lot easier."
She was talking about my grandpa. He was a strict, no messing around,
ex-military man. He didn't judge people by how they looked but by their
actions, how they treated people. He was a good man. I’d liked him a lot, even
though I’d only seen him a few times.

"So, you lost your daughter and your
husband. Do you have any other children?" Lucy’s voice was low and
respectful, but familiar. I guess cleaning up after me together had created a
bond.

"I do, I have two sons. They don't
live here in Montana, though. One is in California and the other is in
Alaska." My grandma looked sad. I was trying to remember what those uncles
looked like.

"Wow, that must be hard to have
everyone so far apart." Lucy’s face wore a compassionate look. She had a
way of making people feel like they were the only ones that existed and I could
tell that she made my grandma feel the same way. The wonderful little old lady
was chatting like she was sitting next to an old friend of many years. It was
like their age difference didn’t even matter.

"It is, but they call me once a week,
both of them do. So I get to talk with them, that’s something I always look
forward to." My sweet grandma, always seeing the good.

"Can I ask you something, Mrs.
Hall?" Lucy looked a little apprehensive, but determined.

"Yes dear," my grandma answered
instantly.

"Why didn't you get David when he was
younger, when he had to go to foster care? I thought they liked to keep family
together." Lucy said it in a careful way. Even I felt comfortable and
non-threatened. I moved back a few steps, not wanting to interrupt them. This
was a question I had wondered myself, for many, many years.

"Well," Grandma paused, I could
tell she was editing herself, "I actually had a court order to take
complete custody of David. But his father asked me not to."

"He did?" Lucy looked as puzzled
as I felt.

"He told me he wanted to try to get
him back, and wanted him to stay in Kalispell." Grandma stopped. Her face
was full of irritation and maybe anger. And probably some sadness. It was an
unexpected mix. "Before my daughter died, he was a pretty nice guy. He was
grumpy, but nice, and honest. Julia loved him and he treated her like a queen.
That was enough for me. But he hasn't been the same since he lost her. I had
all that clouding my mind I guess, thinking that whatever he did to David was a
mistake made by a basically good man. So I did what he asked of me."

My grandmother sighed. I wanted to hug her.

"He sounds like he really loved
her." Lucy’s voice sounded far away.

"He did,” my grandma said simply,
"but I should have gone with my instincts and fought for David."

My grandma had deep pain in her eyes. Lucy
reached out her hand and put it on top the old gnarled one sitting on the
counter. Grandma looked up at Lucy with thankfulness.

"He turned out pretty amazing."
Lucy gave my grandma a smile and her hand a squeeze.

"He is amazing, isn't he? I wish he
could see it." She looked gratefully at Lucy.

I forgot I was being quiet. I put my head
against the wall, feeling frustrated at missing a strange sense of belonging.
But, like the nerd I am, I was overzealous and whacked my forehead. Dang. Both
women stopped talking and turned toward me, so I emerged from my shadows, aware
that my carefully put-together face had a giant red spot on the forehead. A
neon sign of my nerdiness, if you will.

"Hey," I said, strolling into the
kitchen with my hands in my pockets.

"Hi hon, how are you feeling?" My
grandma got up and put her hand on my forehead.

"A lot better actually; I haven't been
sick in a few hours." I tried to talk with a hand on my face. I peeked
over at Lucy and her eyes were focused on the table.

"You sit down, I’ll make you
something. How do eggs and toast sound?"

"Sounds good," I said, not
looking at her. I was still watching Lucy, whose face was now inspecting her
hands. I walked over to the table and sat to her right.

"Hey." I was suddenly afraid that
she thought I looked like a freak. But her head came up and I could see she was
blushing.

"Hey. I'm glad you’re feeling
better…" Her eyes quickly scanned over my face. Her gaze lingered around
my arms. Then she looked down at her coffee, spinning it slowly, which
instantly drove me bonkers. I couldn’t handle it moving around, out of its area
on the counter. When she started moving it from side to side I put my hand over
one of hers, stilling the motion. She gave me a look but didn’t move the cup
again. I instantly felt relief. We sat in silence while my grandma fried the
eggs. I wasn't used to Lucy not talking and it made me extremely uncomfortable.

"You ok?" I asked.

"I'm good." Lucy looked up into
my eyes and smiled kindly. I smiled back at her. To my surprise, she bit her
lip and looked down again. It almost looked like she was embarrassed about
something. My grandma put some scrambled eggs and toast in front of me and I
realized I was going to have to eat in front of both of them.

“Would you like some, honey?” my grandma
asked Lucy.  

"Please." Lucy’s voice had a
formal, polite tone. It was so unlike her to use a few words where she could
use hundreds. I wanted her to talk my ear off like she usually did. My grandma
handed Lucy a plate with eggs and toast and came over to kiss the top of my
head. I slightly shied away before I caught myself and straightened back up and
let her. Grandma earned all the kisses she wanted to plant on my head.

"Good night, you two. Lucy, if you’re
too tired to drive, David will make a bed for you on the couch. Okay?” She had
a stern "be good" look on her face for a second, then she messed up
my hair a little, which sent me into a hair patting frenzy.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hall." I saw
Lucy’s mischievous smile switch on, which made me feel a little better. My
grandma walked out of the room and left the two of us in her small yellow
kitchen.

"Sorry," I said, wanting to start
some kind of conversation.

"For what?" Lucy murmured, her
mouth full of eggs.

"Getting sick," I answered
miserably.

"Oh hush, you couldn't help it. From
what I heard, you got off easy. Some people were hospitalized for dehydration.
Good thing I was here to take care of you. Gatorade to the rescue.” The
mischievous smile stayed on her face. 

"I'm lucky you were here, huh?"

"I imagine you would have been flat
out on the tile for hours and hours, not drinking anything, puking and puking.
Then your grandma would have had to drive you to the hospital in the middle of
the night and they would have put needles in you. Then there would have been
ten people fussing over you instead of just us two." She stuck her tongue
at me, obviously remembering how she forced me to drink something. And how
poorly I had reacted to the hospital the last time we’d been there together.

"Good point, those are way better
numbers." I chanced a full look up at her. She was staring at me with a
look I’d never seen before, a look that was reserved.

"David, you don't look like you have
been sick today." She put her face down again, her ears getting red. I
opened my mouth to respond but could think of nothing. I wondered if this was,
like, a compliment. I shrugged my shoulders.

"It's after four!" she pointed at
the clock on the microwave. My shoulders went down in disappointment.

"You have to leave?" I couldn't
help but feel sad. She beamed at me.

"I don't have to, I can stay. I should
leave at Seven-forty five though, because church starts at nine. Hey! You
should come!" She looked up at me hopefully, shoving her plate away a
little, out of its spot. I snatched it up instantly, walking it to the sink.

"That’s not going to happen," I
said determinedly.

"You should come," she said it in
the same tone and with the same excitement as before, like she hadn't just
asked me and I hadn't just said no.

"Um, no." I tried again. Her eyes
got big and her lips got pouty, her eyebrows went up, and she cocked her head
to one side. This was not fair.

"David, I want you to come to church
with me, please?"

How did she do that? I would have tried to
find Atlantis for her if she asked. My response was a miserable groan and she
took that to mean yes. Which it did.

"Yeah, so I'm staying here and we can
drive together." She looked very happy with herself.

"I'm going to make a bed for you on
the couch," I said miserably. I moved from the sink to the linen closet in
the hallway. I pulled out some sheets. I walked into the living room to lay the
sheets on the couch, folding the corners and tucking them in tight so she would
be comfortable. I took the blanket that was on the recliner and spread it on
top of the sheets, smoothing it until no wrinkles appeared anywhere on the
surface. I went back to the closet and realized I didn't know where a spare
pillow might be. I ran into my room and grabbed my pillow from my bed, stuffing
it into a new cover and plopping it at the head of the couch to complete the
makeshift bed. After every corner was squared and all wrinkles were abolished,
I looked up and saw her standing at the end of the hallway watching me. She was
leaning against the wall, her arms crossed.

"I hope this is ok?" I pulled the
covers back at a perfect 45 degree angle, to present her bed to her.

"It’s wonderful; thank you,
David." She walked over to me with a look of mixed resolutions on her
face. The way her eyes sparkled made me put my hands in my pockets and look at
anything but her face. She stopped in front of me and slid her arms thru the
hole that my elbows made against my side. She put her head on my chest and
hugged me.

It took a second for my brain to even
figure out what was going on, but before it really registered, my hands came
out of my pockets and wrapped around her. Surprisingly, I didn't feel nervous.
It felt natural and like I was finally doing what I had been longing to do
since Friday night when I had almost kissed her on top of a lighthouse. Before
a crazy old man totally ruined the moment. No old man here, though.

I put my lips on the top of her head. Her
hair smelled amazing, like flowers and fruity hair spray. 

"David?"

"Yes..." my heart was thumping.

"If you were a cartoon character and
looked the same every day, I would want you to look just like this." She
buried her face deep into my chest.

"Yeah?" I said it like a question
but it was more like a shocked statement.

"Just like this." She repeated.
Hadn’t misunderstood, then. Definitely having a conversation about cartoon
doppelgangers.

"Why?" I asked, feeling brave.

"I like the way you look, David."
She replied so quietly I had to strain to hear her. I shook my head and hugged
her tighter. She continued talking into my shirt, "Come on, you know
you’re gorgeous." I stood there, with my stomach on fire and feeling like
it was somewhere up in my throat. I took my fingers and gently pushed a few
strands of hair behind her ear. I bent my face down and whispered into those
strands.

"Are you talking about me or about
yourself?" I could feel her mouth go up in a smile against my body.

"Definitely you." She came up for
air and looked into my eyes. I didn't mind that my gaze was being held prisoner
this time, but she let it free too soon. She looked over at the couch and then
back at me.

"Come on, you should get some sleep. I
think you’re going delusional." I steered her body over to the couch and
sat her down. I got down on my knees and took off her shoes. Her feet were hot,
like they'd been in winter boots for too long. I bent her knees and put them
under the blankets. She lay her head down on my pillow and instantly her eyes
got droopy. I tucked the blankets in around her.

"What time do you want me to get you
up?" I asked her, still on my knees, at eye level in front of her.

"Seven," she whispered.

"Okay." I bent down and kissed
her forehead. Her eyes were already closing. I brushed a few strands from her
face.

"Good night," she murmured,
barely audibly. 

I felt compelled to do something, something
that made me happy, something that used to bring me a lot of joy. Watching her
laying there with her mouth half open, sleeping so soundly was more than I
could take. I went to my room and opened my closet to get some boxes the police
had brought over when they moved me. I knew where everything was. That kind of
stuff was an extension of the coffee cup thing, an obsessive control issue I
had. I moved the top two boxes down and pulled out the third. After putting the
other two back in a neat stack I sat down and opened my box.