Broken Hearts (4 page)

“Jenkman?”

“Yeah. Probably. He's such a creep,” Josie said, frowning. “He still calls me, still pesters me. He can't believe I broke up with him. He can't believe that I don't want to go out with him again.”

“You think he sent this?” Steve asked.

“You should see the way Jenkman stares at me in school,” Josie continued. “Like a hungry puppy dog. Mister Pitiful. He follows me, staring at me. Like I'm supposed to feel bad or something. Like I'm supposed to care.”

“Calm down,” Steve said softly.

“How can I calm down?” Josie snapped. “I broke up with him five months ago. And now he sends me this dumb thing. Is he crazy, or what?”

“You know what I think you should do?” Steve said seriously. “I think you should ignore it.”

“Huh? Ignore it?”

“Yeah. Don't mention it to anyone. Pretend you never got it. That's what I'd do.”

Josie tossed the card down on the table. “I suppose you're right,” she said, sighing. “You're so sensible, Steve.”

“That's me,” he replied brightly. “Sensible Steve.”

She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Now let's get out of here,” he said, smiling. “And no more talk about that stupid valentine.”

Josie started to reply. But before she could get a word out, pale white hands reached out from behind her, wrapped themselves around her throat, and started to choke her.

J
osie gasped and spun away, breaking loose from her attacker. “Rachel!” she cried. “Don't do that!”

Rachel laughed, her hands still outstretched as if prepared to strangle Josie. Her olive eyes sparkled gleefully.

“Rachel, that wasn't funny. Stop laughing,” Josie said firmly.

Obediently, Rachel cut off her laugh, as if a switch had been flipped. Still staring at Josie, she lowered her hands, then shoved them deep into the pockets of the loose-fitting brown corduroy jumper she wore over a pale yellow, long-sleeved T-shirt.

“Erica, where are you?” Josie called angrily. “I thought you were watching Rachel.” She rubbed her neck where Rachel had grabbed it.

“Hi, Rachel,” Steve said timidly.

Rachel didn't respond.

Erica ran down the stairs, a troubled expression on her face. She was followed by Luke Hoskins. “Here you are,” Erica said softly to Rachel. “You got away from us, didn't you?”

“You were supposed to be watching her,” Josie said crossly, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at Luke.

Luke was tall and lanky. His shoulders were always stooped, as if he were trying to make himself shorter. He had short, light brown hair, neatly parted on the left and brushed to the side. His slender, nervous face was framed by silver-rimmed glasses. A tiny gold ball glistened in his right earlobe.

He and Rachel had been going together for more than two years before her accident. Since that terrible day, Luke had been a constant visitor in the McClain house. He seemed as devoted to Rachel as before, even though she seldom responded to him in any normal way.

“It's my fault,” he admitted to Josie. “Erica and I were talking about something, and we didn't see Rachel leave the bedroom.”

“Well, you
know
she can't be out of your sight,” Josie scolded shrilly. She rubbed her neck. “She nearly strangled me.”

Rachel laughed, tossing her head, her long, red hair catching the light from the ceiling.

“She was just playing with you, Josie,” Erica replied heatedly. “You
could
give her a little attention, you know.” Erica's voice revealed her bitterness.

Rachel picked up the stack of mail from the table and stared at it as if trying to figure out what it was.

“Put that down,” Erica said gently, taking the envelopes from Rachel's hands. “No mail for you today.” She tenderly placed a hand on Rachel's shoulder.

“No mail for me?” Rachel repeated, her voice nearly a whisper. She turned to Josie. “Brush my hair,” she said.

“No, Rachel,” Erica replied before Josie could speak. “I just brushed your hair. Upstairs. Remember?”

“Steve and I are going to the mall,” Josie interrupted impatiently. “I'll be back in time for dinner.”

“But you promised—” Erica wailed angrily.

“If Mom gets home, tell her I'm going to look for that pattern she wanted,” Josie said, ignoring Erica's protests.

“Hold on, Josie,” Erica insisted, still holding on to Rachel's shoulder. “You promised you'd watch Rachel this afternoon. I
told
you I had to study for my social studies exam.”

“Sorry. Some other time,” Josie said coldly.

“You said that the
last
time!” Erica complained.

“Brush my hair,” Rachel said insistently, seemingly unaware of the argument taking place.

“We just brushed your hair, dear,” Erica said softly. Then her expression returned to one of anger as she glared at Josie. “You're always running out and leaving me with Rachel. You and I are supposed to take turns. You know we can't afford help for her during the week.”

“I'll take my turn. Don't worry about it,” Josie said with a sneer.

“When?” Erica demanded shrilly.

“Brush my hair,” Rachel said, her hands jammed back in the pockets of her jumper.

“If you want, we could go to the mall tomorrow,” Steve suggested to Josie.

“Shut up,” Josie snapped. “We're going now.” She pushed past Rachel and Erica to get to the hall closet. “Out of my way. I'm getting my coat.”

“This isn't
fair!”
Erica cried. “You stick me with her every day. I have no life, Josie!”

Josie swung back angrily, her eyes aflame, raising a finger to her lips. “Sshhh. Rachel can hear, you know, Erica. Watch what you say. You'll hurt her feelings.”

Erica uttered a loud shriek of disgust. “Don't tell
me
about Rachel's feelings!” she screamed. “Since when do
you
care about Rachel's feelings? You haven't spent ten minutes with her since . . . since . . .”

“That's not true,” Josie snapped back, her voice trembling.

“Erica's right,” Luke said quietly, stepping up beside Erica. “You really haven't done your share, Josie.”

“You keep out of it,” Josie replied angrily. “You're not in this family.”

“I know that, but I can see what's happening here,” Luke said, his expression troubled. “I can see that—”

Muggy interrupted, yapping in his high-pitched squeaky voice, his toenails clicking across the floorboards as he ran up to them.

Josie scooped him up and pressed his black nose against hers. “It's okay, Muggy,” she said, holding the
dog close to her face. “Did all this shouting upset you? It's okay, doggie.”

The dog licked Josie's nose.

Josie glared at Erica. “Look how you upset Muggy.”

Erica uttered another cry of disgust. “Josie, you care more about that dumb dog than you do your own sister,” she accused.

“That's not true! Take that back!” Josie demanded, holding the terrier against her chest.

“Look!” Rachel said, holding up the stack of envelopes, which she had picked up again. “Mail for me?”

Steve appeared in the doorway behind her. He had gone into the den with Rachel when the yelling began. “She seems fascinated by the mail,” he said.

“Mail for me?” Rachel repeated. She held the envelopes high in one hand, showing them to everyone.

“Rachel doesn't get mail anymore,” Erica whispered sadly. “Maybe she misses it.”

Some of the envelopes fell from Rachel's hand and fluttered to the floor.

Erica dropped to her knees and began to scoop them up. She stopped when the satiny red heart of the valentine caught her eye. “What's this?” she asked Josie, holding it up. “You're getting a valentine five days before the day?”

“Read it,” Josie told her sister. “Maybe you can figure out who sent it to me.”

“Huh?” Erica's expression was confused. Still on her knees, she opened the card and read the verse aloud:

“Violets are blue

Roses are Red.

On Valentine's Day

Josie will be dead.”

Erica glanced up at Josie, even more bewildered now.

To everyone's surprise, Rachel began to laugh uproariously. She laughed so hard she started to cough.

“Rachel, that isn't funny,” Erica said softly, staring at the card as she climbed to her feet.

Rachel immediately became silent, but her eyes continued to reveal her merriment. After a few seconds she burst out in high-pitched giggles, covering her mouth as a little girl would.

“This is really gross,” Erica told Josie, waving the card in Josie's direction.

“Tell me about it,” Josie replied, rolling her eyes.

“Who would send such a horrible thing?” Erica demanded.

“Just one of my many admirers, I guess,” Josie said dryly. She pulled her coat from the closet, then grabbed Steve's jacket and tossed it to him. “Let's go,” she said, avoiding Erica's stare.

Erica was still holding the valentine open in her hand. She raised her eyes from the card to her sister. “I really don't believe this,” she said, shaking her head.

“See you later,” Josie said, pulling her coat over her shoulders. Steve followed her down the hall, and a few seconds later the front door closed behind them.

Erica heard Muggy whining and whimpering by the
door. He always did that whenever Josie went away. A few seconds later he gave up. She heard his tiny paws click away in the direction of the living room.

“Brush my hair,” Rachel insisted, a strange, unreadable smile on her face. An eerie, ghostlike smile. “Brush my hair.”

She looks so pretty in the dim hall light, Erica thought, staring at her older sister. With that beautiful hair and those big, olive eyes and that pale, pale skin. She looks like an angel. She really does.

With her innocent, childlike eyes. And that sad, haunting smile . . .

Erica uttered a loud sob, quickly muffling it with her hand.

No, she thought. I promised myself. I promised myself no more tears. No more crying. No more.

“Brush my hair?” Rachel asked as if she had never made the request before.

“Okay,” Erica told her. “Let's just put down this mail and then we'll go back up to your room.”

“I don't
believe
Josie,” Luke muttered angrily.

His voice startled Erica. She had nearly forgotten he was still there.

He stepped toward her from the shadows of the dim hallway, and she was startled by the bitter expression that twisted his normally placid features.

“I don't
believe
her,” he repeated, his eyes wide with anger behind his silver-rimmed glasses. “She should help out.”

“I know,” Erica said, dropping the mail onto a table in the den, then taking Rachel by the hand.

“She should do her share,” Luke continued. “She
was
responsible, after all, for Rachel's accident.”

Erica stopped short. She was shocked by Luke's words. She had never heard him talk like this. So angry. So frighteningly angry.

Just then a burst of laughter escaped from Rachel. She pointed at Luke. “You look funny,” she told him.

Luke forced a weak smile, but Erica could see that he was still seething.

“Funny,” Rachel said, laughing.

Luke forced himself to laugh too, but when he started to laugh, Rachel stopped.

Taking Rachel by the hand, Erica began to lead her to the stairway. Luke followed close behind. In a glance, Erica saw that his bitter expression had returned.

“Why do you say it was Josie's fault?” Erica asked.

“You know,” he snapped. “The saddle. Josie fastened Rachel's saddle. She could've killed Rachel. She nearly did. And now Josie doesn't care at all.”

They climbed the stairs in silence, Erica too shocked by Luke's words to respond to them.

I had no idea he resented Josie so much, she thought, as she led Rachel to her bedroom. No idea.

No idea that he carries around so much anger.

Of course, he did lose his girlfriend because of the accident. He did lose Rachel.

And he blames Josie for it.

So why does he still come around all the time? Why hasn't he found a new girlfriend? Why does he spend so much time visiting Rachel? Erica wondered.

Sometimes Rachel seems glad to see him, Erica observed. But most of the time she doesn't even remember who he is.

Erica led the way into Rachel's dark bedroom and clicked on the bedside lamp. Rachel took her usual place, sitting on the edge of her double bed, her pale hands pressed against the dark green bedspread. She closed her eyes and waited patiently for Erica to begin brushing out her long, straight hair.