What Remains of Me by Alison Gaylin Read Free Book Online Page A

bride!
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  National Enquirer
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  May 25, 1995

CHAPTER 5
FEBRUARY 12, 1980
    E ach sound echoed. The slamming of the Trans Am’s door, Kelly’s ragged breath, her footsteps, too heavy as she climbed the stairs to her third-floor apartment, her key sliding into the lock, turning.
    Kelly hoped her mom was asleep, but that was a stupid thing to hope, especially once she’d opened the door and felt the blaze of the kitchen lights and heard the oldies station blasting and inhaled that piney, chemical smell.
    Mom was cleaning.
    â€œIs that you?” Mom’s voice came from behind the high kitchen counter, singsongy like the voice on the tinny transistor radio. In the jungle, the mighty jungle . . .
    â€œHi, Mom.” Kelly stepped around the counter. Mom was on her hands and knees, scrubbing. She leaned into it, working harder than was necessary, her whole body surging with each scrub-stroke like waves slapping the shore. “Where were you?” Mom said.
    â€œOut?”
    â€œCome on now, Kelly,” Mom grunted, “be specific.” Her breathing was sharp. Her fingers gripped the brush handle and Kelly couldn’t help but stare at the knuckles, sowhite it looked like the bones were pushing through. “Who were you out with?”
    Kelly’s heart pounded. She’d worked this out in her mind when Len was driving her home, but back then she’d been higher than she was now.
    â€œI was with a friend”—Kelly tried anyway—“from math class. We have a test coming up and we were studying late. I lost track of time.”
    â€œWhat’s your friend’s name?”
    She swallowed. “Susie.”
    â€œSusie what?”
    â€œSusie . . . Mitchell.” Kelly gazed at the counter—Mom had bought a bunch of new bananas. They were splayed out in a bowl, nearly ripe but not quite, their skins that pretty pale green. Kelly liked them best that way. She liked that slight tartness, the whiteness of the fruit. Her stomach growled, and she wanted to take one, but she was afraid that if she did, Mom might make a fuss about her eating so late or worse yet, she’d know what she’d been doing. “ Do you have the munchies? ” Mom would say. She knew enough to say that, to use those words.
    Scrub, scrub, scrub . . . “What do Susie’s parents do?”
    â€œHer dad is a doctor and her mom . . .” Kelly cleared her throat. “She’s a nurse.” Next to the bananas was a tin ashtray mounded with cigarettes. There had to be at least a pack’s worth in there, and it had been empty this morning. It was hypocritical, Mom’s habit displayed on the kitchen counter like a bouquet of flowers, Kelly using everything she had to hide one night.
    One life-changing night . . .
    â€œSo if I called the school and asked for Susie Mitchell, daughter of Dr. and Mrs. Mitchell, they’d know who I was talking about?”
    Kelly drew in a shaky breath. “You shouldn’t smoke so much.”
    Scrub, scrub, scrub . . .
    Kelly listened to the song. Hush my darling . Don’t fear my darling . The antenna gleamed at her. She desperately wanted to go to her room.
    â€œYou didn’t answer my question,” Mom said.
    Kelly looked down. Her skirt was inside out. Quickly, she shifted it so that the tag was in