Anybody's Child - Michelle Kidd (icecream ebook reader txt) 📗

his contempt. If she relied on faith to save her, he’d set her straight. “You will cooperate, Beth.”

She folded her arms and slumped against the chair. “I won’t.”

“Oh, Beth.” Her defiance amused him. “You’ll do it, all right. If you don’t, I’ll lock you and your father up until I get some answers.” He slammed the pen, to punctuate his point. “Make no mistake, I intend to get to the bottom of it . . . and I’m not above using you to do it.”

Chapter 11 – Beth

A week later, Beth still couldn’t get Arnold’s threat out of her head. She dug her nails into her palms. The words rattled around with all the other changes in her life. Each day blurred into the next. She survived one, only to wake up and face another.

Had it only been seven days since her world turned upside down? Mom was gone, Arnold had it in for her and Dad. And about that? What was up with him and Lynne? Her mind would only handle so much.

She’d managed a shower this morning, gotten herself dressed, but none of it felt real. Pretending. That’s what you did, you pretended part of your life hadn’t been ripped away. She looked in the mirror and tugged at the black dress hanging from her thin frame. She’d lost weight. Mom would scold she didn’t have it to lose. She picked up the makeup brush and twirled it against her cold cheek. Just go through the motions.

She had to get through today because she couldn’t think about tomorrow. One thing at a time. Get yourself together for Mom’s funeral. If she tried to do more than that, she’d never make it. The graveside service terrified her. Not that she’d never attended one, but the idea of leaving Mama to the cold ground and driving away—it was so final. How did they leave her there and move on, living lives Mom would never know about?

Go through the motions. Yeah, that’s what you did. Not flip out on your baby sister for polishing off a bag of chips because they were the last bag Mom would ever bring home or sob over the empty container, clinging to it as if it were the last fragment of truth in a world that had once made sense. Grief did that. It messed with perceptions, distorting things, and caused life to tip on its side.

After her meltdown, Dad decided Beth needed to get away from the house, and both girls might be better off with Jeni and her mom. They’d been here ever since. Let Dad handle all those crockpots piling up in the kitchen. She was thankful she wasn’t there to look at all that food, the constant reminders. Not that she didn’t appreciate the kind gestures, but how would another casserole in the fridge fill the void? Nothing would. No one understood what she was going through. How could they? No one watched their every move, whispering and speculating. If she cried too much, she had a guilty conscience—not enough, she didn’t love her mother. Several times, she’d glanced out the window, seeing reporters milling outside, hoping for a glimpse of her.

Beth choked back a sob. It wasn’t fair! Why wouldn’t they leave her alone? She flung the makeup brush against the sink. The handle shattered on impact and sent plastic shards bouncing across the counter as it crashed to the floor. The sight brought on a fresh round of tears. God was punishing her.

Jeni told her that God didn’t take revenge on His children, but what did she know? He disciplined people all the time in the Bible. If anyone deserved it, she did. When had she last given Mom a hug and said, “I love you?” Of all the good memories they shared, the argument and the ugly words she’d screamed were what stood out. And over what? A stupid party? It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did. Not classes, not midterms that began in a few weeks. She couldn’t wrap her mind around such ordinary details.

She was glad when Jeni went back to school. After everything she’d been through, Beth wasn’t good company, and things weren’t the same between them. Hiding out at Jeni’s might not have been the best idea. Not that she blamed her. Jeni had made every effort to support her, but this didn’t measure up to a failed algebra test. No trip to the mall, ice cream binge, or hug, would fill the hole Mom left. Jeni seemed to sense she needed space and finally left Beth to herself. Jeni had lost her dad at such an early age; she’d never known him. It wasn’t the same thing.

At this point, she couldn’t connect with anyone. Even Uncle Mike refused to answer her calls. Did he see her as a coward for hiding out at Jeni’s? Oddly, no one had seen him. Dad said he hadn’t shown up for work in several days and he wasn’t answering his phone.

When Beth thought about returning to school, she pictured Arnold and his goons barging into class and hauling her off to jail in front of everyone. She couldn’t deal with that. To his credit, he hadn’t harassed them again. But how long would that last? Was he biding his time, gathering evidence against her—against Dad?

Beth shook her head. She wouldn’t return to school. If she managed to avoid jail, Dad might consider homeschooling. Her stomach flipped when she saw him. He was her dad, but somehow different than the one from a week before. It was like those optical illusions in her science book. At first glance, you notice a picture of a pretty young woman from a long-ago era, but suddenly it became an old hag or witch when someone pointed out the details.

Arnold had done that, planted an image of a man who stored romantic emails on his computer, carried on affairs with his wife’s best friend, and hated her mom enough to kill her. She didn’t believe it, of course, but something was off. He acted as paranoid as Mom had, right before her . . . what? Her passing? Death? Murder? Anything she said seemed disrespectful, wrong, unthinkable.

The sound of cartoons drifted into the bathroom. Bugs and Daffy bantered over which season it was—rabbit or duck. Beth peeked around the corner to make sure Mindy still sat in front of the guest room television with her pudgy hands in a bowl of dry cereal. She wore her poofy Easter outfit—the pink one with lace edging. No amount of coaxing persuaded her it was too cold to wear the spring dress. Mommy would want to see her in it before she went to be with Jesus, she insisted. And wasn’t it a small thing to keep her happy?

Beth eased the door closed and slid down the length of it. She sat on the floor with her forehead against her knee. Tears flowed, grief coming in short, silent bursts. After a while, she pulled a wad of tissue paper from the roll and blew her nose.

She’d prayed God would help her make sense of it all, but so far, she’d gotten nothing. She pounded her fist against the tile. There was no comfort—no voices guiding her. Where was the still, small voice to whisper encouragement and tell her what to do? Why was He silent?

Beth eyed her backpack, remembering the Bible tossed in a few days earlier. It had been presented to her at her baptism. Raised in church, she’d never given faith much thought. It wasn’t until youth camp last summer the lessons had clicked in her mind. Several of her friends had asked Jesus into their hearts. Beth had been moved to say a prayer and ask Him into her heart too. For weeks, she’d been full of zeal, but once school began and things returned to normal, she had lost her enthusiasm. Was it all churchese? Sometimes Beth feared they were just words and held no real meaning. She didn’t remember when she’d opened her Bible outside of church.

The new leather scent clung to the binding as she fished it from her bag. She traced her name stamped in gold letters at the bottom. It held all the answers, right? Would it tell her what to do about Detective Arnold? Dad couldn’t have done anything like what the man said. He served as a deacon in the church, for goodness sake. But those pictures and the emails caused a tight, odd sensation in her chest.

God, I need answers.

What if He refused to listen? She was a horrible person, selfish, and had made a mess of everything. She didn’t know how, but this had to be her fault—punishment. All her hateful thoughts about her mom . . . if she hadn’t complained so much. This had to be some sort of judgment. God wouldn’t help her because this was the price of anger. The accusations flew at her like fiery darts. That’s why He wouldn’t answer her. She’d be better off dead!

Her skin grew cold, and her heart raced. The idea shocked her. Yet there it was, hard and unyielding, like a dark swirling entity, the answer to her troubles. She remembered the minor surgery Mom had—the painkillers the doctor prescribed—most of them were still in her parents’ medicine cabinet. Beth saw them last month when she’d run out of feminine products and borrowed some from Mom. It would be so easy to leave the hurt and confusion behind; go where there was no more pain.

That would show Arnold for putting her through so much. He might even lose his job when they found out how he’d harassed her. She’d leave a note telling every detail. Beth sat for a few moments imagining how it would be to rid herself of this horrible ache in her heart. It would be so easy to take a handful of pills, drift off, and wake up in heaven. She would be with Mom!

When a movement from under the door caught her attention, she couldn’t help but smile through the haze of tears. Tiny fingers protruded, wiggling like little worms. The sight snapped her back from the dark hole she’d been about to dive into.

 “Whatcha doing in there, Beth?” The sweetness of Mindy’s voice penetrated the fog of hopelessness.

Beth hooked her sister’s finger with her pinkie and gave it a squeeze. “Feeling sorry for myself.”

“What’s that mean?”

Beth sniffed and patted her eyes. “Watch your fingers.” She waited for the chubby little stubs to disappear before opening the door. Mindy crawled in and plopped into her lap. Her bottom was warm against Beth’s legs. The sharp, small bones dug into her thigh as her sister made herself comfortable. But Beth didn’t mind. The closeness was like a salve applied to her raw soul. Beth laid a hand on her head as she’d seen Mom do a thousand times. How had she ever considered doing something so stupid? She would never leave the stinkbug. Mindy needed her if no one else did. It was up to her to show Mindy how wonderful Mom had been. She owed Mom that. I can’t give up!

Beth allowed Mindy to lean back until she fit into the hollow just