Beautiful Mistake(18)

But I couldn’t not show up.

I had no idea why I’d told the little girl to come back this week to begin with.

Actually, that’s a crock of shit. The reason had played over and over in my mind every night before I went to bed. I couldn’t get her little voice out of my head.

Sometimes he falls asleep on the couch with a cigarette in his hand, and I think about not putting it out and letting the house go on fire. That was her confession.

I wasn’t even positive if thinking about letting someone hurt himself was a sin. But I wasn’t going to let this poor little girl feel guilty over wanting someone who I suspected wasn’t a good guy to get hurt. Fuck that shit.

I also needed to know what the asshole was doing to make an innocent little girl have those types of thoughts. She should’ve been thinking about ponies and unicorns, not her house catching on fire. My mind automatically thought the worst.

I was just about to give up—and light up on the way home to clear my head of the shit running through it—when the door creaked open on the other side.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” she whispered.

“Didn’t we talk about this last week? You aren’t sinning by thinking bad thoughts. You’d have to act on them to sin.”

Of course, that wasn’t true necessarily—the Catholic Church had some screwy rules—but it was the only thing I could do to take some of the weight off her shoulders right now.

“Alright.”

I knew from last week that she was skittish on sharing. I’d need to gain her trust if she was going to let me in on whatever was going on at home. So, I started her talking about the first thing I could think of.

“How was school this week? Do you like your teacher?”

“It was okay. I don’t mind my teacher so much, but Tommy, who sits next to me, is gross. He always has his hand down his pants.”

Somehow I managed not to laugh. Don’t we all. “You should keep away from him. He sounds like trouble.”

“He always smiles at me.”

“Yeah. He’s no good. What grade are you in?”

“Fourth.”

I’d guessed right. She had to be about ten.

“Did you tell your mother about him?”

She was quiet for a long time before responding. “My mother died last year.”

Shit. I’d been afraid there was no woman in the picture, for some reason. “I’m very sorry to hear that.” I paused then added, “She’s in Heaven now. It’s a nice place.”

“Does the pain stop when you die?”

“Was your mom sick?”

I saw the outline of her head through the square-latticed screen opening and knew she was nodding.

“She’s not in pain anymore.”

“Is Yoda there, too?”

I furrowed my brows. “The little green guy from Star Wars?”

She giggled. The sound was better than music. “No. Yoda was my dog. He had ears that stuck out of his head weird. He died, too.”

“Oh. Yeah, Yoda is in Heaven with your mom. They’re hanging out.”

“That’s good.”

“Is it just you and your dad now?”

“He’s not my dad.” She answered that question really damn quick. Too quick.

“Who do you live with?”

“My stepfather. He doesn’t like me very much, most of the time. But sometimes he likes my sister.”

“You have a sister? Is it just the two of you?”

“Yes.”

“Is your sister older?”

“She’s fifteen.”

I had a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. “How do you know he doesn’t like you very much? And what makes you say he likes your sister sometimes?”

She was quiet. “I should go. Benny is going to come home from work soon. He gets mad easy.”

“Benny? Is that your stepfather?”

“Yes.”

I wanted to know more, but I definitely didn’t want to be the cause of her getting in trouble.

“Come back next week. Okay?”

“Okay.”





Rachel



On Friday afternoon, I took more time than usual getting ready. I’d always liked school. It gave me things to focus on when I was feeling unsteady. But these days, it definitely wasn’t my studies that I looked forward to.

Caine’s office door was open when I dropped by unannounced. We made eye contact, and he used the hand not holding the cell to his ear to point to a chair opposite him in front of his desk. I listened to one side of his conversation while I looked around his office.

“Yes. I’ll be there.”

He listened and then rolled his eyes. “I would prefer you didn’t do that.”

There was a woman on the other end of the phone. I could hear the pitch of her voice even if I couldn’t make out her words. I tried to act like I wasn’t paying attention, checking out the art on his walls and the books on his shelf, but I was definitely listening.

“Ellen Werman and I are not going to be a couple no matter what table you seat her at.”

Pause.

“Because I have a penis, and Ellen doesn’t care for them, Mother.”