Listen

11

The succulent smell of pork chops wafting into the dining room did nothing to add any ambience to the chilly atmosphere at the dinner table. Kay brought in scalloped potatoes and returned to the kitchen for the rest of the food. She wasn’t in the mood for the moods. Not today. But she faked a smile and returned to sit with her family. If she couldn’t have the happy family, the next best thing was the illusion of one.

“Pork?” Jenna moaned, leaning over the platter. “What is it with you and pork? Do you know how fattening this is? And then you have the carbs with the potatoes.”

“It’s a lean cut of pork,” Kay said, serving Damien and then Hunter. She tried not to focus on the paper-thin T-shirt Jenna wore. It barely covered her stomach. “It’s high in protein. It’s not like I’m serving up bacon here.” She stabbed the last chop and plopped it on Jenna’s plate. The sauce splattered onto her shirt.

“Mother!” Jenna barked, grabbing her napkin.

“It was an accident,” Damien said, handing Jenna another napkin. “Calm down. It washes.”

Jenna glared at Kay as she furiously scrubbed her shirt. “I’m not hungry,” she said and started to rise from the table.

“No ma’am,” Kay said sternly. “Sit your rear end back down right now.”

All movement froze, Damien holding the scalloped potatoes, Hunter with a big bite of pork bulging in his cheek. Jenna’s glare cut through the steam coming off the lima beans. But she finally sat, grabbed her knife, and started sawing at her pork as if she intended on murdering it had it not already been dead.

Kay cleared her throat and passed the bread basket. “Hunter, how was your day?”

“Good. Dad came to eat with me.”

Jenna looked up briefly, studied her brother for a moment, then went back to her food.

“Yeah, I’m going to need Hunter’s help for my first investigative piece. Edgar wants me to do some digging, see if we can figure out where that Web site about Marlo is coming from.”

“What Web site?” Kay asked.

“It’s called Listen to Yourself. Apparently it’s recording private conversations of the citizens of Marlo.”

“Are you reading it?” Jenna stared at Damien.

“Not for pleasure, no. But it’s a little eerie. And newsworthy. Not to mention illegal if the person doing it is indeed eavesdropping.”

“Or maybe it’s more like Robin Hood. You know, stealing from the rich, giving to the poor.” Hunter shrugged. “Except with words.”

“That’s stupid.” Jenna’s attention returned to Damien. “What kind of stuff’s on there?”

“Just weird, random conversations. Some are harmless and some are…”

“Are what?” Kay asked.

“Well, damaging. You two haven’t heard about this?”

“No,” Kay said. She looked at Jenna. “Have you?”

Jenna continued eating one lima bean at a time.

Kay watched her daughter for a moment, trying to read that mind of hers. When she was little, she’d worn every emotion on her sleeve. She became glassy-eyed at a moment’s notice if something didn’t go her way, or anyone else’s way for that matter. She had the biggest heart, always concerned for other people, including her little brother, who often made her life difficult if not embarrassing.

Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the emotions were gone and in their place, nothing more than sulky, disapproving expressions that went no deeper than the gobs of makeup she smothered her face in. She had the most beautiful freckles sprinkled across her nose, but they hadn’t seen the light of day since she’d discovered a high-priced foundation that promised to cover up all flaws. So what once had been a bright sign that summer was here was now like a shameful secret that was not allowed out.

Kay really missed those freckles. And so much more. Jenna was like a whisper of who she used to be. Friends told Kay not to worry. Jenna would come out of it one day. It was what you were to expect with a teenage girl. But Kay had never expected it to be like this.

And then there was the way she’d suddenly started dressing. Sleazy. That was the only word for it. She hated to say it, but it was true. Cleavage when at all possible. Jeans tight and low. Shirts flimsy and revealing. Damien didn’t seemed concerned, but Kay knew what it meant.

Kay cleared her throat and focused her attention on Jenna. “Hey, so who are you hanging out with this year? I haven’t heard you talk about anybody in particular. What about the girls on the cheer club? Zoey. Caydance. What about Madison?”

“Just because I cheer with them doesn’t mean I have to hang out with them,” Jenna said.

Damien added, “What about Natalie? She used to be a good friend.”

Jenna’s gaze darted from Kay to Damien as she stopped chewing. “What is this, twenty questions?”

“We just like to know who your friends are,” Damien said, his voice kind in tone like it always was with Jenna. Kay, for some reason, could never quite find the right tone.

Jenna sighed, picking at her dinner roll. “Yeah, fine. Natalie. We still hang out some.”

Kay lowered her fork. “You do?”

“What? You don’t approve of Natalie now?”

Damien frowned. “Nobody said that. Natalie’s a perfectly fine-”

“She’s not.”

Everyone stopped and looked at Kay.

“What I’m trying to say,” she said, forcing a calm tone on top of a tight smile, “is that Natalie seems troubled.”

Jenna placed her fork onto her plate and put her elbows on the table just like Kay hated. “What are you talking about? No, she’s not.”

“I’m just hearing some things-”

“What things?”

“Her mother is… well, there’s some trouble at home and-”

“So what? That doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with Nat. Her parents are screwups. But it’s not fair to say she is.”

Damien held up a hand to each of them. “We’re not saying that. Not at all. I think you’re reading what your mom is saying wrong; isn’t she, Kay?”

Kay bit down hard on her lip, casting a measured look at Damien. “I think that she should be careful when choosing friends. Sometimes kids can act out when their parents are going through something and can be bad influences on other kids.”

Jenna gripped the edge of the table. “So you think Caydance and Zoey are good examples?”

“They seem like nice girls.”

“Do they. Hmm.”

“And Madison in particular. She’s a straight-A student.”

“So let me get this straight. You want me to hang out with Caydance and Zoey and Madison because they’re popular and straight-A students, and you don’t want me to hang out with Natalie because her parents are weird.”

“That’s not what your mother is saying,” Damien said, shooting Kay a look that said stop talking. “You’ve always chosen your friends wisely. We don’t question that at all. I think what your mother is trying to say is that if Natalie becomes a bad influence, think twice about hanging out with her.”

Jenna took in a deep breath, looking the slightest bit relieved. “May I be excused now?”

Kay started to stop her but Damien said, “Of course. I’ll get the ice cream out later.”

“Yum. Ice cream. That’s all I need, more fat on my hips,” Jenna growled, throwing her napkin onto the table. She disappeared up the stairs.

“Can I have her pork chop?” Hunter asked.

Damien scooted the plate toward him but stared at Kay. “What was that all about?”

“What? I’m just trying to figure out who she’s hanging out with.”

“It seemed like you already had an opinion about whom that should be.”

“Don’t give me the third degree on this. I happen to know the mothers of those girls, and it’s better for us if we know the parents of the girls she’s hanging out with.”

“She doesn’t seem to be a big fan,” Damien said, continuing with his meal.

“Well, sometimes at this age they don’t know what’s best. Can’t you see what’s happening with her? Didn’t you see her shirt tonight? Papier-mâché thin.”

“You know Jenna. She’s never been drawn to the most popular girls. Even when she was younger, she was able to choose quality over quantity. I think we should trust her on this one.”

Kay looked down, everything on her plate suddenly unappetizing. “She just can’t see…”

“See what?”

The doorbell rang and Damien scooted his chair back. “I’ll get it.”

Kay watched him go around the corner to the door, then looked at Hunter.

But Hunter didn’t look back. “May I be excused?” he asked and didn’t wait for an answer. Before she knew it, she was totally alone.

The table, overcrowded with dishes and plates of uneaten food, caused her to push away and leave the room. She wandered to the office, where a bright screen saver of a rolling hillside greeted her. With one click she was on the Internet. Ten seconds later, she was immersed in a dark world of insinuation and accusation, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

She searched for anything that could be about her.

Damien smelled her before he even opened the door. That was some kind of dousing to be able to instantly kill the smell of pan-seared pork chops. He braced himself for the overwhelming scent of jasmine and the intrusive eyes that would undoubtedly focus on him.

He’d once complained to Frank that Angela wore too much perfume. He made that mistake only once.

Swinging open the door, he feigned surprise while managing to say, “Angela!” and hold his breath. “What are you doing here?” He stepped out onto the porch for some fresh air and privacy. He didn’t want Kay involved in this conversation, whatever conversation it might be. When Angela dumped Frank, Kay remained friends with her but not for long. They got into a fight and hadn’t spoken since. To this day, Kay wouldn’t talk about it or her again. Damien never even knew what the fight was about.

His nose twitched, fighting off a sneeze. He turned a little toward the breeze.

“I want to talk to you.” Her voice was low, breathy.

“I’m here. What can I do for you?”

“It’s about Frank.”

“I figured it was.”

“You know he filed a missing person report on me, don’t you?”

“I haven’t talked to Frank today.”

“Surprising. I thought you two were attached at the hip. And also, you went with him.”

“I don’t know what the report was about. Honestly I don’t really care. The thing is-the thing you’ve never understood-is that Frank loves you and will never stop loving you. He does crazy things because of his love for you. And his love has been tested in a variety of different ways. It’s still holding.”

“Don’t you dare bring up the affair.”

“I didn’t say a word about it.”

“A lot of people blame me for that. But nobody knows what it was like. Frank was not an easy person to live with.”

“I can only imagine.”

Angela kept her eyes locked on Damien’s, stepping forward. “I’ve put up with a lot from that man, but he’s crossed the line now. And I’m not talking about the ridiculous missing person report he filed on me.”

“Okay…” The muscles in his shoulders began seizing up. He didn’t like talking about Frank, not in this way, where all his vulnerabilities and shortcomings were exposed. That tended to happen a lot when Angela was involved, but Damien never questioned it to Frank. Daresay a bad word about Angela, and that was the permanent end to the friendship.

Again, she stepped forward, backing him toward his front door. Not only was he drowning in the scent of jasmine, but he was also now suffocating from lack of personal space. He had nowhere to go. He blinked rapidly as if a fly buzzed near his face.

“And I know something,” Angela said, her voice lowering again. “I know that you don’t like to hear that Frank isn’t the perfect guy. Nobody likes to hear that. But you have to hear this.”

“First of all, I know Frank’s not perfect. None of us are. Nobody ever said Frank was perfect.”

“That’s the thing that always got under my skin,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Despite the immense personal failings of this guy, nobody was more liked than Frank Merret. The guy has the social skills and the self-awareness of a baboon, yet most people think the world of him.”

“That’s because he’s a good guy. Something you could never see about him. Despite all his flaws, at the end of the day, he’d do anything for anybody. And he’d do more than anything, above and beyond, for you.”

It seemed whatever words Angela was about to speak halted at the tip of her tongue. She stared at her feet for a moment, her fingers twisting around her lips and her chin, scratching her skin as if she were attempting to fend off whatever it was she thought she needed to say.

She finally looked up, a half-baked resolve set in her eyes. She didn’t look directly at Damien. Her gaze shifted to the left to the point that Damien wanted to lean over into her line of sight. “I’m seeing someone,” she said.

“All right. What does that have to do with me?”

“We’re getting serious. Very serious.”

“Good for you. You’re afraid this is going to upset Frank? He’s been down this road a time or ten.”

Angela scowled. “You’re painting me like I’m a… Maybe this was a mistake. I came over because I figured Kay wouldn’t answer the phone if she saw it was me calling.” She took a few steps back.

Damien drew in a big breath that probably sounded like a heavy sigh, at least judging from the sour expression on her face. “I’m just saying that Frank cares for you and whatever he may or may not be doing all stems from his feelings for you.”

“Does that include listening to my private conversations?” Angela folded her arms.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s listening to me. Listening to my private conversations.”

Damien shook his head, still not understanding.

“There’s a Web site called-”

“Listen to Yourself.”

“He told you!”

“He told me about it, but Frank’s not the one doing this.”

“Oh, really? Already defending him.”

“What makes you think it’s Frank?”

“Because a conversation I had with the man I’m seeing was posted on there.” Suddenly the harshness in her voice was gone.

“I know about this Web site. Lots and lots of conversations from the town have been recorded and posted.”

“Yes, well, the only one that matters to me is mine.”

“So what does this have to do with Frank?”

“I caught him. He was behind the house near the sidewalk, peeking over the fence, on the same day that I had that conversation.”

“You don’t have a fence.”

Angela bit her lip. “It wasn’t at my apartment. I was with the man I’m seeing. At his house. Frank must’ve followed me there. And I don’t know how he listened to what was being said, but what’s on that Web site-” she covered her mouth for a moment as if the words were too hard to say-“is exactly what I said.” A tear dripped down her cheek, desperation blowing through a cloud of what looked like shame. “And now I’m afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“Of Frank. I’m afraid of what he might do. The conversation is about Frank.”

“Let me assure you: Frank is not behind this Web site. But even if he was, why are you afraid? Frank would never hurt you in any way, besides possibly being a very big annoyance in your life. He’s harmless.”

“Sometimes harmless people who have been harmed become harmful.” Something in her voice made Damien realize this wasn’t an act. She was fearful.

“I’ll talk to him,” Damien said.

“He listens to you.”

“Yeah. He listens. Rarely does he obey, though.” Damien offered a conciliatory smile. “Don’t worry, okay?”

“I’m not worried. I’m contacting my attorney. And if he does it again, any of it, I’m going to sue him. You can mention that if you want.” Angela marched down the steps of the porch, all the way down the sidewalk and to her car, where she flung open the door, got in, and peeled out.