anyway. I can bring a radio in here. Or what about a sound machine? My sister gave one to my dad a few years ago. I think it has ocean waves or something.”
Amelia let out a weak laugh. “Sure, might be worth a shot. Anything but this awful silence. I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”
Karen got up and started out of the room. “No sweat. I think it’s just down the hall in the closet. Be right back.”
She retrieved the sound machine from the closet’s bottom shelf. Karen prayed it would do the trick.
She returned to the bedroom with the sound machine, set it on the nightstand, and plugged it in. The sound came on: waves rolling onto the shore, and the occasional, distant cry of a seagull. “Tranquil enough for you?” Karen asked, with a tiny smile.
Amelia sighed. “As long as I don’t have to listen to the sounds inside my head. Do you know what I was hearing when I finally screamed for you?”
“What were you hearing?” Karen asked.
“It was that weird, frail warble Collin made after I hit him in the head with the plank.” Tears came to her eyes, and she covered her face again. “I kept hearing my brother dying….”
“You didn’t do it,” Karen whispered, stroking Amelia’s hair. “You’re not responsible for it, Amelia. Now, lie down and listen to the waves. Don’t think about anything else. Rufus and I can stick around until you fall asleep. Would that help?”
“Thanks, I’m sorry to be so-”
“Oh, hush, it’s no bother,” Karen said, tucking her in. Then she switched off the nightstand lamp, and made her way to the rocking chair by the window. She settled back in it, and Rufus curled up near her feet.
“You’re sweet, Karen,” Amelia murmured, over the sound of the fake distant waves. “I often wonder why you don’t have a boyfriend. Doesn’t make sense, you’re so nice, and pretty.” Karen heard her yawn. “I–I sometimes think about how lonely you must be.”
“Oh, I’m doing all right,” Karen answered almost automatically.
“Always helping people, taking care of people, and no one to take care of you, it’s not right. Karen, you…you deserve to be happy.”
Karen said nothing. She felt a horrible ache in the pit of her stomach, and tears welled up in her eyes. But she remained silent. She just kept rocking in the chair, and listened to Amelia surrender to sleep.
Amelia felt herself drifting off as she spoke to Karen. The sleeping pills must have worked after all. In the darkness, she could see Karen sitting over in the corner of the room, by the window. Amelia heard herself slurring her words, and Karen’s silhouette seemed to blur.
For a second, just as she started to fall asleep, Amelia no longer saw Karen Carlisle across the bedroom. Instead, she had a fleeting image of her father in that rocking chair, the moment before she shot him through the head.
A notice came up on the 36-inch flat-screen TV in the Faradays’ den: ALL MODELS ARE EIGHTEEN YEARS OR OVER.
Collin had been looking forward to this moment. His parents had left for Lake Wenatchee that Saturday morning. This was the 16-year-old’s first weekend home alone ever, and to get the debauchery rolling, he’d borrowed three DVDs from his friend, Matt Leonard, whose brother had smuggled them home from college:
He was having some of the guys over for poker tonight; at least, that was the plan, if one of them could get his hands on a case of beer and some cigars. Matt would be coming over in about two hours, which gave Collin plenty of time to watch one of the movies and whack off. He’d drawn all the shades and peeled down to his underpants. His hand was already inching past the elastic waistband of his briefs as he watched the opening photo credits for
And then the front doorbell rang.
“Damn it!” Collin hissed, switching off the DVD player. Springing up from the sofa, he frantically dressed and hid the DVD covers behind a sofa pillow. The doorbell rang again and again. “Matt, if that’s you, I’m gonna kill you,” Collin muttered. He hurried to the front door, and checked the peephole. “What the hell?” he whispered. Then he unlocked the door and opened it. “Amelia, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, nice way to greet your sister,” she said with an abrupt laugh. She brushed past him and sauntered into the house. “Mom and Dad are in Lake Wenatchee, and little brother is home alone, which means I caught you in the middle of getting drunk or bopping the bologna. Which is it?”
Collin ignored the question. “Aren’t you supposed to be at some Booze Busters retreat in Port Townsend?”
She headed into the kitchen and started hunting through the cupboards. “Don’t remind me. They just dropped me off. I told them I needed to get my allergy medication.”
“Allergy medication?” Collin repeated.
“Yeah. Good one, huh? Anyway, they’re coming back to pick me up in a half hour.” She started checking the lower cabinets. “Where the fuck are they hiding the booze nowadays?”
“To the left of the sink, where they’ve always kept it,” Collin replied, squinting at her. “Why are you acting so weird?”
She pulled a bottle of bourbon out of the cabinet. “Well, I’m not drunk, if that’s what you mean, little brother.” She took two highball glasses from the upper cupboard. “At least, I’m not drunk,
Collin stared at her as she filled both glasses about halfway. He didn’t think his sister was drunk. She just wasn’t acting much like herself. Since when did she ever refer to him as little brother? He’d never seen Amelia wearing so much makeup in the middle of the day. She was acting like she did that time a few weeks back when she’d unexpectedly shown up at his school. He wondered if it was being away at college that had changed her. “What’s going on?” he asked. “What’s with the hotshot act?”
She handed him a glass. “You’re the hotshot, all alone for the weekend. If you plan to get shitfaced, I want to see it.” She clinked her glass against his. “C’mon, chug it.”
“Are you nuts? I’m not getting drunk with you.”
“Oh, c’mon, don’t be such a pussy. Have some fun.”
Collin shook his head and put down the half-full glass. “I’m not sure this is such a great idea, Amelia. You know you shouldn’t…”
She frowned at him. “You know, you can be a real asshole sometimes.”
He looked at her, incredulous.
“You heard me,” she muttered, plopping down at the breakfast table. “When’s the last time we saw each other?”
“Three weeks ago, when you came home for the weekend,” he replied, folding his arms. “And before that it was the time you dropped by my school in the middle of the day. Of course, later, you didn’t remember that, so maybe it doesn’t count.”
Apparently, it had been one of her episodes with
“Three weeks we haven’t seen each other,” she said. “I come by to say hello, and what do I get?” She made a face and dropped her voice an octave to sound like a surly Neanderthal. “‘What are you doing here?’ Real sweet, Collin. Thanks a lot. How do you think that makes me feel?”
Collin sighed. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“It’s bad enough everyone considers me the family fuckup, and you-you pee perfume. Of course, I’m not even really part of this family, being adopted and all.”
“Oh, c’mon, Amelia,” he said, sitting down at the table with her. “That’s bullshit. Why do you even say stuff
