Dr. Dad by Judith Arnold Read Free Book Online Page A

circle meant “call me tomorrow” and zigzagging meant “I don’t know.” Sometimes they’d prop up their dolls in the windows and pretend the dolls were playing with each other. Sometimes they’d draw pictures and display them for each other, although it was really hard to see drawings when the light was coming from behind them.
    Mostly, though, it hadn’t mattered whether they were communicating clearly. Just being connected to each other had been enough.
    Lindsey wondered whether Cathy knew that a famous TV star was living in her old house. Had Cathy’s parents told her they’d sold the house to Susannah Dawson? Did they even know who Susannah Dawson was, or were they as out of it as Dad?
    Every now and then Lindsey spotted movement in the house next door. Susannah walked through the living room, her shadow following her. She paused at the dining-room table, then moved away. MacKenzie the cat sat on a windowsill in the living room, staring out at the night, flicking his tail back and forth. He was such a beautiful cat, almost as beautiful as Susannah.
    The living-room light in Susannah’s house went off. Lindsey sighed and flopped across her bed. It was ten o’clock, which was past her bedtime, but there was no school tomorrow so staying up late didn’t matter.
    Restless, she padded barefoot out of her room and down the stairs. Through the open doorway of the study she heard her father’s voice. She knew from the droning sound of it that he was leaving a voice-mail message for one of his partners. They all took turns working on the weekends, and her father liked to leave information about his patients for whoever was on call. He’d sit and yak into the phone as if he was talking to an actual person. It was kind of weird, but Lindsey was used to it.
    She slipped past the study and entered the kitchen. The pots from dinner were turned upside down on the drying rack, shining in the light above the sink. The forks and knives lay glistening on a towel next to the rack. The china was stacked on a counter, waiting to be returned to the breakfront in the dining room. Her father’s jacket and the stack of mail were gone from the table, although Lindsey’s backpack was still there.
    She felt guilty for having not helped her father clean up after dinner. She really ought to help more. She always meant to help, but then other things got in the way—like a TV show was on, or one of her friends phoned, or she was angry with Dr. Dad.
    She’d been angry tonight, not with her father so much as Susannah. Didn’t the woman appreciate that she’d had the chance to live everybody’s fantasy? To be a star…It made you more real somehow, more alive. If everyone knew who you were, even when you died they’d remember you, and that was almost like not dying.
    Lindsey didn’t want to die. If she became a star, maybe it would be like never dying.
    She spotted the foil-wrapped dish of brownies on a counter near the refrigerator. She hadn’t had any dessert earlier. Just seeing the plate convinced her she was starving.
    She crossed to the counter to get the brownies, thinking she’d bring them up to her room and maybe eat a few while she flipped through a magazine or something. Tiptoeing so as not to alert her father that she was prowling around the house this late, she headed out of the kitchen.
    Her father must have finished lecturing into the phone. A rectangle of golden light spilled into the hall through the study doorway, but she didn’t hear his voice. She didn’t hear anything at all.
    She crept down the hall and peeked into the study. Her father was standing in front of the window seat, staring out at the house next door. He had his hands in his pockets. His slacks were just baggy enough not to look dorky, and his shirt was wrinkled. He needed a haircut. But she kind of liked when he looked sloppy.
    Right now he looked more than