Good Girl Bad (19)
“I don’t know,” she says, and her teeth are starting to chatter, and the instructor takes a long look at her, and then rubs her shoulders, trying to comfort her, to warm her, and the physical contact feels strange to her, and suddenly she feels overwhelmed by something she doesn’t understand, and before she can stop herself, she lunges into the instructor’s arms, and sobs and sobs and sobs.
17
Tuesday
Nate sits next to Genevieve, opposite Detective Casey and Detective Parks.
When Casey had asked if they could ask Genevieve some questions, Rebecca had bristled, but Genevieve had risen obediently. But when Rebecca had moved to stand with her, she’d said, “I want to be with Dad.” She’d even moved closer to Nate, almost like she was afraid of her mother, Casey noted, as she waited for one of the parents to speak.
“Of course. Whatever you need, honey.” It was Rebecca who spoke, but it was Nate who Gen looked to for confirmation, or reassurance.
Now, Casey waits patiently. She’d asked Genevieve to tell her about Sunday. Genevieve is chewing her lower lip. She glances at Nate anxiously.
“I spent most of it in my room. Mom had had friends over for dinner on Saturday. They’re exhausting, Mom’s dinners.”
“Yeah?” Casey encourages. “How so?”
“Just being social. Being happy. We have to entertain any kids that come. Beth’s daughters were there. Ellie and Minka. They’re our ages.”
Gen lapses into silence again, and Nate sits beside her, his memories working overtime.
“So do you like them?”
Gen shrugs. “They’re fine.” She did, in fact, like the girls quite a lot. But it takes so much effort to make friends, to be a good friend. What’s the point?
“So what happened at dinner?”
Gen gives Nate a sidelong glance, and he braces himself. It’s almost apologetic, her look.
“Well, it was the usual stuff. Nice food, the adults were drinking. Tabby and Minka were allowed to have some wine.”
Nate stiffens immediately. He and Rebecca had agreed no alcohol before eighteen. It was strict, and hard to enforce, but Nate felt strongly about it. It was bad for their brains, it was bad for their decision-making.
It was bad for teenage girls left alone with handsome stepfathers.
“Mom got a bit drunk. Started being a bit over the top. Leroy was trying to steer the conversation back to safer things but she’s like a dog with a bone sometimes. So they were a bit tetchy. Beth and Sandy were both drunk though, I don’t think anyone was paying much attention.”
But you were, Casey thinks to herself, taking in the serious demeanor, the way Genevieve looked almost like she wanted to protect her father from something.
“What were they talking about that wasn’t safe to talk about?” Casey is gentle, though she’s more interested in Sunday than Saturday night.
“Dad getting fired. The message.” Here Genevieve looks apologetically at Nate again, and his face flushes. “Leroy was trying to get her to stop. I don’t think he likes it when Mom talks about Dad, especially if she’s…not saying anything nice. I think he was a bit embarrassed.”
Casey looks back to Nate, raises an eyebrow in question. “I didn’t think you knew about that,” he says to Genevieve, his voice faint. She looks back at him sadly. “We hear you guys fighting.” She pauses, then adds, almost bitterly, “We know more than you think.”
Casey is impatient to move on to what Genevieve saw on Sunday, though. “Is it relevant? Do I need to know about it?”
“No,” says Nate firmly. “It’s ancient history. It’s got nothing to do with anything.” He stops though, and wonders if this is strictly true.
He snapped. He was pushed too far.
Has Tabby snapped? Has she been pushed too far?
“So what about Sunday, Genevieve? Do you know where Tabby was, what she was doing?”
“She was in her room. She was probably studying, or drawing. She draws when she’s upset.”
Nate looks at Genevieve, surprised. This was news to him. He’s never seen his eldest daughter draw anything, not since primary school.
“Why would she have been upset, do you think?”
Genevieve looks at Casey impatiently.
“The dinner. Mom badmouthing Dad. She’s not used to alcohol. She shouted at Mom in front of the guests. She said it was Mom’s fault that Dad got fired. And everyone went kind of quiet and the dinner ended soon after that. And I went to my room, so I don’t know what happened. But Mom would have been mad. And she can be really mean to Tabby when she’s mad.”
Nate and Casey are both staring at Genevieve, and she shifts uncomfortably in the plastic chair.
“Can I have some water?” she says, and Casey nods, and gets up to get her some. But when she returns, Genevieve has clammed up.
“Do you know if your mom went to her, if they fought? Or maybe they fought on Sunday?”
But Gen just shrugs. “I was in my room. I was listening to music. I didn’t hear anything.” And she turns her face into Nate’s shoulder, and they can’t draw out another word.
Nate takes Genevieve out to sit with Rebecca, then goes back to make a statement to Casey by himself.