Two Girls Down(3)

She continued to shake her head, thought, Jesus Christ, do I ever sound like her—her own mother, Gail—“Before I change my mind” and all those threats. First you swear you’ll never be like your mother; then you find yourself sending them to their room and grounding them, and occasionally, once in a while, you hit them once or twice too hard on the back after they say something rude.

Jamie got back in the car and blew air into her hands. Spring Fest my ass, she thought. It was the end of March and still freezing in the mornings and at night, although they’d had more than a few hazy warm days the past two months that fooled everyone into thinking spring was really here; even the black cherry trees were confused—fruit had prematurely formed on the branches, then iced over and broke off the next week in a storm.

The girls had been in the store a long time.

Jamie looked at the time on her phone. 11:32 a.m. They still had to go to Kmart for a gift for Kylie’s friend, which meant they would argue about the under-ten-dollar rule, then engage in negotiations until they got to an under-ten-dollar-without-tax agreement. If there was time, maybe Jamie could browse for something for her aunt Maggie, whose birthday was coming up. Maggie was fond of her, and Jamie didn’t really know why—maybe because she admired Jamie’s pluck, maybe because she’d been a single mother herself after Uncle Stu had left her for a girl in a massage parlor twenty years ago, and she knew how rough it was. Maybe because it was a way to piss off her sister, Jamie’s mother, which she enjoyed doing for a list of reasons either one would tell you all about if you asked them. Jamie ultimately didn’t care about the details since Aunt Maggie had cleaned up in the divorce and got her real estate agent’s license in short order, owned half a dozen homes in the Poconos that she rented out to vacationers, and brokered deals between buyers and the new developments surrounding Denville.



“Goddammit,” said Jamie.

She got out of the car and jogged into the mini-mart, scanned the inside quickly and saw only one other person—a man, looking at a porn magazine.

“Hey,” she said to the fat boy behind the counter. He seemed too old for the braces on his teeth.

He jumped.

“You see two girls in here?”

“Yeah. They went to the bathroom in back.”

Jamie did not say thank you, walked past the guy with the porn and out the back door. She saw Kylie leaning against the cinder block wall, holding a Reese’s cup between her thumb and forefinger like a teacup.

“What the hell, Kylie?” said Jamie.

“She had to pee. She said it was an emergency.”

Jamie stormed past, rapped on the bathroom door and said, “Bailey, come on, let’s move it.”

“I’m washing my hands,” said Bailey from inside.

“You’re done. Let’s go.”

“I’m trying not to touch anything.”

Jamie almost smiled. She had been trying to teach them to line the toilet seat with paper towels, hover above the bowl, and turn the faucets on and off with their elbows in public bathrooms.

“I have Purell in the car. Come on.”

The door opened and Bailey came out. She looked at her mother and covered her mouth with her hands.

“We forgot the coffee!”

“It’s okay,” said Jamie. “Let’s go.”

They went back to the car and drove to the Ridgewood Mall without speaking, Kylie staring out the window, Bailey reading her school workbook. Jamie glanced at both of them and thought they looked nice. Bailey in a pink princess dress, Kylie in a black dress with a purple flower print and the sweetheart neckline that was a little too old for her, Jamie thought, but since it was a hand-me-down from her cousin, she could not complain. They are both so big, she thought, which makes me so old.

The parking lot was surprisingly not crowded, the first three or four rows of the grid full but that was it. God bless Spring Fest, Jamie thought.



“So what does Arianna want?”

“Aren’t we coming in?” said Kylie, shocked.

“No way. I’m going in and out.”

“Come on. That’s so unfair!” they both said.

“Deal with it,” said Jamie. “What does she like?”

Kylie sighed. “She wants a sleeping bag.”

“I’m not buying her a sleeping bag. Does she like jewelry?”

Kylie nodded.

“Great. I’ll get her some bracelets.”

Jamie looked through her purse for her phone and her wallet, left the key in the ignition so the heat would stay on.

“Can we at least listen to music?” said Kylie.

“Yes, you can. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Jamie got out and was about to slam the door when Bailey said, “Mom?”

“What?”

She looked up from her book and said, “Do you know you call a group of lions a pride, not a pack?”

Jamie stared at her, then at Kylie, who rolled her eyes.

“No, baby, I didn’t know that.”

She shut the door and left them.

Into the calm, controlled air of Kmart, pop music from ten years ago in her ears, she forced herself to stay focused. If she didn’t have a list, she had trouble concentrating in big box stores, got distracted by displays and sales. That was the point, wasn’t it, she thought, to turn you into a kid again who sees something shiny and wants it. When the girls were with her, a ten-minute trip turned into thirty minutes easily, everyone leaving with candy and gum and a tank top.