The K Handshape (15 page)

Leo was stashing the umbrella in a stand. “Where’s Joy?

Nora closed the door and actually slipped the safety chain on. “She’s in her bedroom watching one of her videos.”

“How is she?”

“She’s been asking for her mommy non-stop but I haven’t said anything yet. What the hell am I going to say?”

Nora was a mess. Her pupils were dilated and there was the pungent smell of weed in the air. “I don’t even sign that well,” she continued. “I just know the basics, you know, what do you want for lunch, time for bed, that sort of thing. How the hell do I communicate to a kid that her mother has been murdered and won’t be coming back?”

“You don’t,” said Leo, his voice sharp. “Children Joy’s age don’t understand death and if you say her mother has gone away, she’ll be waiting for her and she’ll think she’s done something wrong to cause it.” He glared at Nora, his face full of rage. “We probably need somebody who can do sign language properly. And somebody who isn’t stoned out of her fucking mind at the moment.”

A more vulnerable person or one more in her real mind would have been intimidated by such force but Nora wasn’t. She yelled right back. “You can fuckingly well get somebody fucking else if you like but I’m the fucking nanny, don’t forget. You hired me. What you fucking see is what you fucking get.”

None of us had moved from the cramped space of the foyer and who knows where this scene would have escalated to but at that moment, there was an odd sort of grunting sound from the top of the stairs. We all turned and looked up to see Joy standing behind the baby gate, a stuffed toy clutched under her arm. She made her strange noise again, then made some signs with her free hand.

“She wants her mommy,” said Nora unnecessarily.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Joy remained at the top of the stairs, her face solemn and worried in the way that almost-three-years-olds can be.

Leo held out his hand. “Come on down, sweetheart. It’s your granddad.”

“She doesn’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about,” Nora spat out. “First off, in case you fucking don’t remember, she can’t hear, and second, she hasn’t seen you since last Christmas for ten minutes and that was eleven months ago.”

“Through no fault of mine,” he retorted.

I was getting fed up with this row. I don’t care if the little girl was deaf, she could pick up on the fury that was going back and forth between these two. I decided to step in.

“Listen, both of you. I understand how upset you are but get a grip. Nora, maybe she doesn’t need to know everything at the moment. Can you tell her that her mommy can’t come home right now and leave it at that?”

Nora seemed reluctant to give up the fight. I thought she was the kind of person who went to anger as a default line.

“She’s got to be told sometime.”

“True. But perhaps when everybody around her is a bit calmer.”

“Christine is right,” said Leo. “Why don’t you do what she says, Nora? I’ll go into the kitchen and get Joy some milk. Does she like cookies?”

“Dee didn’t let her have them. She doesn’t believe sugar is good for kids.”

“Well, she’s probably hungry and it’s important her routine be maintained as much as possible. What were you going to feed her for supper?”

“Jesus, I don’t know. Dee did dinners. I’m just the ears.”

Joy was coming slowly down the stairs, one step at a time as she’d been taught. She made signs again at Nora, who this time responded. Even I could see how awkward her signs were, but the child understood her. Her lower lip protruded but she didn’t cry. Nora signed again but spoke as well.

“Let’s go into the kitchen, babe, and make some dinner. What would you like? Baked potato and chicken? That sounds easy.”

Joy stood looking up at Leo and me. He held out his hand to shake, making a clumsy sign.

“Hello, Joy.”

Like any other kid in the world, Joy had her own method of diffusing of tension and she thrust her toy, a stuffed green dinosaur, into the air. Her right fingers spelled something rapidly and she made some of her own guttural sounds.

“She says this is Horace. He’s hungry.”

I pointed at my mouth and rubbed my stomach. “Me too.” Well, it wasn’t American Sign Language but it was pretty universal. To my delight Joy moved closer, took me by the hand, and started for the kitchen.

“You’ve made a friend there,” said Nora. “Lucky you. She’s not usually that quick to go to strangers.”

Frankly, I thought the poor kid had chosen me as the least threatening of the three of us. Nora had a cloud around her as tangible as black flies in spring and Leo was barely holding it together.

“Let’s see what we can find for you and Horace, shall we?”

“She can’t understand you,” said Nora with too much satisfaction for my liking.

“If she can’t, you can. If you’ve no objection, I’ll just root around the kitchen and find her something to eat.”

“Be my guest.”

She swung off and stomped off up the stairs. I was afraid that Joy might be upset at the disappearance of the only familiar face
but she wasn’t. She tugged my hand again.

“I’ll wait in the living room,” said Leo. “I don’t think she’s used to me and she’s a bit apprehensive.”

I was glad he’d said that because I was about to suggest it myself.

Joy was “chatting” to me. To free her hand she had to tuck Horace under her armpit. She was making incomprehensible sounds at the same time. I smiled at her and nodded vigorously. I know from my experience with Chelsea that children don’t always want a response other than an indication that you are listening. I let her lead me into the kitchen.

It was already dark outside and I snapped on the lights. Joy headed for her own chair, climbed on it, and sat down, looking at me expectantly. Now what? Nora had said potatoes and chicken but the child probably needed a snack before that was ready. I opened a cupboard that was next to the sink. A lucky guess. It was the cereal cupboard. I took out a box of organic cornflakes, held it up, and pointed. Joy grinned happily and nodded her head.

The door swung open and Nora came in. She had a child’s sweater over her arm.

“I thought she might need this…” She halted. “Hey, she shouldn’t be eating cereal at this time of day. Dee would never allow that.”

Before I could stop her, she actually snatched the box out of my hand.

“It seems like a long time to wait for her dinner to cook.”

“It’s not any different from her regular hour. She’ll be fine.
He
said we shouldn’t change her routine and he’s a fucking shrink, so he should know.”

Nora was turning this into a power play and I could have slapped her. I didn’t even know if she was telling the truth and Joy couldn’t tell me. But she did. She gave a high-pitched squeal and pointed at the cereal box then at her mouth.

Nora shook her head and tapped her fingers on her watch. “She likes her own way,” she said to me.

I turned my back so Joy couldn’t see my face or lips. Nora’s eyes glittered and she reeked of marijuana. She must have lit up a fresh toke while she was upstairs. It hadn’t had its legendary mellowing effect, that’s for sure. I moved in closer so that I was
only a couple of inches away. She had her back to the cupboard and couldn’t move.

“Nora, I’m going to overlook the fact that you’re using a controlled substance and that, as a police officer, it is my duty to charge you. I won’t do that. This child needs you, and she needs you to be present and friendly, as I am sure you usually are. Clear so far?”

Her eyes darted away from mine. “Good. I take it that’s a yes. Now, at this time of the day, shortly before dinner, which isn’t ready, what would she normally have for a snack?”

“Carrot sticks and maybe some hummus dip.”

“Do we have some?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s give it to her then.”

I stepped away so that Nora could move. Joy was playing with Horace, making him wave his arm at her. She used her other hand to sign back at him.

Nora went over to the fridge, the door covered with the mandatory child’s drawings. She took out a carton of milk and a plastic baggie of carrot sticks.

“There’s no hummus.”

I went back to the table and sat opposite Joy. Suddenly she looked up at me and made a low sort of growling noise at the same time making a sign at me.

“What did she say?” I asked Nora.

“What do you think? What she’s already said a dozen times. Where’s Mommy?”

She signed back at the child, who promptly stuck her thumb in her mouth and pressed the dinosaur against her cheek. Nora clucked her tongue.

“Dee didn’t like her to suck her thumb. She’s too old for that.”

At that moment the door opened and Leo came in.

“Is everything all right?”

“Fine,” said Nora. But it wasn’t. Leo scared Joy. He said he hadn’t had anything to do with her so maybe it wasn’t personal. Maybe it was just because he was strange and so tense. Whatever the reason, she slumped down in her chair, squealed the high-pitched cry again, and waved her hand frantically for him to go
away. He backed away. “Never mind. I’ll go. Christine, can I have a word with you outside?”

I followed him out into the dining room. Joy was letting go. Nora must have gone to comfort her because the sounds abruptly ceased and became whimpers.

Leo opened the front door and went out onto the porch. I followed him. He was shaking with agitation.

“Christine, I don’t know what to do. She’s my granddaughter and I scare the bejesus out of her. I don’t want to leave her with that drugged-out harridan but I don’t know what else to do. Staying here isn’t helping the situation.”

Given the hostility I’d witnessed between Leo and Nora I was inclined to agree with him.

“I think you should get Hannah and Jessica over here. They are familiar to her.”

“I don’t feel as if I can do that either. You saw them. They hate my guts. I’m the bad dad. The one who abandoned his daughter.”

He took a few paces up and down the porch in a way I was now becoming familiar with. It was cold out here and I pressed my arms closer to my body.

“
She
rejected me, not the other way around. Oh it’s true I didn’t agree with what she did but I would have come around. You saw that child in there. She’s my flesh and blood. I would have been here every day if Dee had wanted me to but she was too stubborn.” He turned to face me, his eyes full of anguish. “And now it’s too late. Oh God, Chris, what am I going to do?”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

It took me a while to get everything sorted. I sent Leo home in a taxi, then I got hold of Jessica, who agreed to come over right away. Things in the kitchen were looking better, as Nora had found some frozen lasagne that she heated up in the microwave. While Joy was eating, I took the opportunity to ask Nora if she knew Zachary Taylor.

“Never heard of him,” she said curtly.

If he had visited Deidre, it obviously hadn’t been when Nora was around.

Finally Joy finished, licking her plate clean with evident relish. Nora didn’t scold her for that, thank goodness. I indicated I was leaving and she ran over to me and flung herself into my arms, wrapping herself around me like a baby monkey clings to its mother. That was tough. I don’t have children of my own, won’t now, and to date I’d felt that my relationship with my goddaughter, Chelsea, was satisfying the need-to-nurture drive without any of the downside that mothers have to put up with. It was funny about Joy, though. Something had clicked between us that I couldn’t quite explain. Generally I get along well with kids, but this was different. Perhaps it was just the circumstances. My knowledge of her situation might have been communicated in some way. Whatever it was I felt a real pang of loss that I had to leave her.

“Tell her I’ll be back,” I said to Nora. It was a foolish thing to say, as I wasn’t sure when I would see them again, but it popped
out of my mouth. Joy insisted on accompanying me to the door and stood waving Horace’s foot at me as I got into the car.

As police officers, dealing with situations that are sometimes unbelievably horrific, we are constantly reminded not to get subjectively involved with our cases. Everybody, not just the supervisors, tries to keep an eye out for each other, picking up on the telltale signs of stress. That was true when I was a front-line officer in Toronto a couple of years ago; it’s still true now at the Centre. Officers who are in the detection of child pornography department, for instance, have a limit of about two years. After that, you have to move on to something easier to handle, like homicide or assault. You know when those crimes seem like piece of cake in comparison, you probably stayed too long. I’ve never done a stint in the pornography department. Don’t want to and admire those who can stick it out.

But here I was, up to my neck in subjectivity, planning in my head when I could come back, how I could learn some basic sign language. Speaking of subjectivity, I was getting anxious about having no contact or information about Paula and decided to go to her house. She and Craig lived in a beautiful house right on the lake. They’d built it from scratch and the house was designed to make maximum use of the waterfront, with deep windows and a wraparound balcony that faced the water. Craig had inherited money from his parents, and as far as I could tell, didn’t see any need to add to that income by working. He spent his time studying his portfolio, keeping fit, playing golf in the summer, and skiing in the winter. He was handsome, if you liked perennial boyish looks, vague blue eyes, and a soft mouth. I couldn’t stand the guy, a feeling that was returned in kind. He and Paula had met when she went to give a talk at a drug addiction centre. Craig was a recovering cocaine head and presented himself as reformed and repentant, a combination some women find irresistible. I’d never have expected Paula to be taken in by easy manners with a hint of wickedness but she was. He pursued her ardently until he had her then lost interest almost as soon as they were married. He was jealous of our friendship and constantly tried to undermine me in her eyes. Thankfully not succeeding. I knew enough not to badmouth him to her but I was hard pressed not to at times. They’d been married for
eight years and I suspected Paula was long over being in love with the guy but they had a child and she was loyal to a fault. Although I say it begrudgingly, Craig was a good father to Chelsea, attentive, playful, but firm when need be. Without those redeeming qualities I would have been happy never to be in the same vicinity as him. Oh, I should mention he hit on me at their wedding reception. Paula does not know this.