Shocking Pink. Erica Spindler
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realizing, they had then. And she had known, too.
Dirty flesh and foul spirit. Marked by sin.
Julie made a strangled sound of despair, the past retreating, the hopeless present reasserting itself. If only Andie or Raven was with her now. They would talk to her, make her smile and laugh, make her forget. Who and what she was. They would tell her she was okay.
And for a little while, she would even believe it.
For a little while. She pressed her face to the pillow, longing so hard for her friends she ached, even though she knew in her heart that no one could help her, not even God. She knew it was true, because she had prayed and prayed, but still the devil stalked her.
And one day, she feared, he would catch her. And she would be lost forever.
10
Andie sat at the breakfast table, going over what she had decided in the darkest hours of the night, rehearsing what she would say to her mother. She had to tell her what she and her friends had seen the night before. She had to, no matter what she had promised them.
Andie folded her hands in her lap, trying to appear calm even though her heart thundered nearly out of control. She had hardly slept. She had tossed and turned, unable to expunge the image of the blindfolded woman from her head. Or of the man, sitting like a king, the lord of the woman before him.
Daniel then Pete slammed through the kitchen door, one chasing the other with a squirt gun, both of them squealing with laughter.
Andie jumped, nearly startled out of her skin. “Hey!” she called after them, irritated. “You’re not supposed to shoot that thing in the house. And be quiet. Mom’s still sleeping.”
“No, she’s not.” Her mother shuffled into the kitchen, a hand to her head. “Up and at ’em.” She crossed to the coffeepot, took a mug from the cabinet above and filled it with some of yesterday’s cold brew, then set it in the microwave to warm it.
Andie swallowed against the lump that formed in her throat. When her dad had lived here, there had always been fresh coffee. She remembered walking into the kitchen in the morning and its aroma filling her head, welcoming and somehow reassuring.
The microwave dinged and her mom brought the now-steaming and bitter-smelling cup of coffee to the table. Sighing, she sat down.
Andie glanced at her from the corner of her eyes, nervous. She cleared her throat. “Mom? Can I talk to you? It’s kind of important.”
Her mother didn’t look up. “Sure, honey.”
Andie opened her mouth then shut it. Was she doing the right thing? She had made a promise to her friends. She had promised not to go to her mother. She had agreed they would investigate more before any of them blew the whistle on the mystery couple and their activities.
They had agreed.
She chewed on the tip of her thumb, indecisive. But that had been last night. None of them had been thinking clearly. Now she was. And what was going on in that house was wrong.
Andie peeked at her mother again. She seemed to have forgotten her daughter was even there. She stared off into space, her expression so sad it broke Andie’s heart.
“Mom?” she said softly. When her mother didn’t acknowledge her in any way, she tried again, this time louder.
Her mother started. “I’m sorry, honey. What is it?”
“Are you all right?”
Marge Bennett smiled, though to Andie it looked forced. “Fine. It’s just … just that I’m tired. I’m not sleeping much, and …”
Her voice trailed off, and her eyes filled with tears. She drew in a choked breath. “It’s just hard, you know? I thought we, your father and I … I thought forever meant forever. I thought we were … that we were happy. I was. Completely.”
Her mother fell silent for a moment, her gaze turned to the window and the bright day beyond. “I still love him.”
Andie stared at her mother, hurting so bad each breath tore at her chest. Even so, anger at her father coiled inside her, anger and resentment.
How could he have done this to them? How could he have done it to her mom?
As if sensing her daughter’s despair, Marge turned back to her. She covered her hand. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Don’t apologize, Mom. It’s his fault. He’s the one who—”
“No,” her mother said, cutting her off, “I shouldn’t have said anything to you. Not now or the night he … told us he was leaving. I handled that all wrong. And everything since, too.” She sighed. “I was so hurt, I wanted to hurt him back, just a little. I used you kids, his love for you, to do it.”
“Mom, don’t—”
“No, honey, what I did was wrong and not very mature. Your father loves you and your brothers very much.”
“Then why did he leave us?”
For a moment, she said nothing, then lifted her shoulders in a defeated looking shrug. “I guess he’s not perfect.”
“I’ll never forgive him, Mom.”
“Yes, you will.” She touched her cheek. “You will.”
When Andie opened her mouth to protest, her mother shook her head again. “I know how tough this has been for you, too. And your brothers.” She bent and rested her forehead against Andie’s for a moment. “Thank you, sweetheart. For all the help you’ve been these past weeks. And for being such a good girl for me.”
She squeezed Andie’s fingers, then released them. “Now, you needed to talk to me about something. What is it?”
Andie shrank back in her chair. How could she tell her mother that her “good girl” had been breaking into empty houses and peeking in windows and watching kinky sex? She imagined her mother’s face, her surprise and disappointment, her sigh of defeat. That’s all her mom needed, more to worry about, more disappointment.
No, she couldn’t do that to her. She wouldn’t.
Andie forced a smile. “I just wanted to tell you about the party Sarah Conners is having and ask your opinion about what I should wear. But it can wait.”
“Are you sure? We could go to your closet and—”
“I’m sure.” Andie stood, bent and kissed her cheek. “This is something I have to take care of myself.”
11
Mr. and Mrs. X, as Andie and her friends had begun to call the mystery couple, didn’t show again. After a week, the girls concluded that the couple met only late at night, so they gave up all their day watches and returned to their normal summer routine.
As they went to the mall and the movies or to parties at friends’ houses, Andie could almost believe that it was a normal summer. That everything was as it had always been between her and her best friends.
But nothing was, or had been, normal since the night they had peered at Mr. and Mrs. X through the window. And everything certainly was not as it had always been between the three friends.
Andie glanced from Raven to Julie, then returned her gaze to the tree house floor. The three of them sat at their post, lost in their own thoughts, not speaking. Raven was distracted about anything but their mission. On that she seemed almost frighteningly intent. Julie, on the other hand, was giddy and silly, even more so than usual. In the past days she’d had periods when she couldn’t stop laughing, and there were many times she didn’t seem able to look her friends in the eyes.
Between their two moods, Raven and Julie had been