All the Little Lights(3)

“Just now,” Aunt Leigh said, crossing her arms.

“About Mom?” I asked. Uncle John nodded. “It’s bullshit.”

“Elliott,” Aunt Leigh scolded.

“It’s okay for us not to like her going back to someone who hits her,” I said.

“He’s your dad,” Aunt Leigh said.

“What does that matter?” Uncle John asked.

Aunt Leigh sighed, touching her fingers to her forehead. “She won’t like us discussing this with Elliott. If we want him to keep coming back—”

“You want me to keep coming back?” I asked, surprised.

Aunt Leigh folded her arms over her chest, refusing to toss me that bone. Emotions made her mad. Maybe because they were hard to control and that made her feel weak, but for whatever reason, she didn’t like to talk about anything that made her feel anything but angry.

Uncle John smiled. “She hides in the bedroom for an hour every time you leave.”

“John,” Aunt Leigh hissed.

I smiled, but it faded. The sting from my scrapes reminded me of what I’d seen. “Do you guys think that girl’s okay?”

“The Calhoun girl?” Aunt Leigh asked. “Why?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. Just some weird things I saw while I was stuck in the tree.”

“You were stuck in a tree?” Uncle John asked.

Aunt Leigh waved him away, walking over to me. “What did you see?”

“I’m not sure. Her parents seem nice.”

“Nice enough,” Aunt Leigh said. “Mavis was a spoiled brat in school. Her family owned half the town because of the zinc smelter, but the smelter closed, and one by one they all died of cancer. You know that damn smelter contaminated the groundwater here? There was a big lawsuit against her family. The only thing she has left is that house. It use to be called the Van Meter Mansion, you know. They changed it once Mavis’s parents died and she married the Calhoun kid. The Van Meters are hated around here.”

“That’s sad,” I said.

“Sad? The Van Meters poisoned the town. Half the population is fighting cancer or some complication from cancer. That’s the least of what they deserve, if you ask me, especially if you take into account how they treated everyone.”

“Did Mavis treat you bad?” I asked.

“No, but she was awful to your mom and Uncle John.”

I frowned. “The husband is Uncle John’s boss?”

“He’s a good man,” Uncle John said. “Everyone likes him.”

“What about the girl?” I asked. Uncle John offered a knowing smile, and I shook my head. “Never mind.”

He winked at me. “She’s a pretty one, huh?”

“Nah.” I passed them and opened the basement door, walking down the stairs. Aunt Leigh had asked a billion times to rearrange it, buy new furniture and a rug, but I wasn’t there enough for it to matter. All I cared about was the camera, and Uncle John gave me his old laptop so I could practice editing the photos. I uploaded the shots I took, unable to concentrate, wondering about the weird girl and her weird family.

“Elliott?” Aunt Leigh called. My head snapped up, and I glanced at the small, black square clock that sat next to my monitor. I picked it up, in disbelief that two hours had passed.

“Elliott,” Aunt Leigh repeated. “Your mom’s on the phone.”

“I’ll call her back in a minute,” I yelled.

Aunt Leigh walked down the steps, cell phone in her hand. “She said if you want your own cell phone, you need to talk to her on mine.”

I sighed and pushed up from my seat, trudging over to Aunt Leigh. I took the phone, tapped the display for speakerphone, and sat it on my desk, returning to my work.

“Elliott?” Mom said.

“Hey.”

“I, um . . . I talked to your dad. He’s back. He wanted to say he’s sorry.”

“Then why doesn’t he say it?” I grumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You don’t have anything to say about him coming home?”

I sat back in my chair, crossing my arms. “What does it matter? Not like you asked me or care what I think.”

“I do, too, Elliott. That’s why I’m calling.”

“How’s your eye?” I asked.

“Elliott,” Aunt Leigh hissed, taking a step forward.

It took a moment for Mom to respond. “It’s better. He promised—”

“He always promises. It’s the keeping it when he’s mad that’s the problem.”

Mom sighed. “I know. But I have to try.”

“How about you ask him to try for once?”

Mom was quiet. “I have. He doesn’t have many chances left, and he knows it. He’s trying, Elliott.”

“It’s not hard not to put your hands on a girl. If you can’t, then just stay away. Tell him that.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right. I’ll tell him. I love you.”

I clenched my teeth. She knew I loved her, but it was hard to remember that saying it back didn’t mean I agreed with her or that I was okay with Dad coming home. “Me too.”