The Girl Is Trouble by Haines Kathryn Miller

Author:Haines, Kathryn Miller [Haines, Kathryn Miller]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2012-07-03T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

14

I MADE IT HOME just before six o’clock. I delayed my arrival long enough to stop off at the five-and-dime and buy some chewing gum. I gnawed on the wad for four blocks, hoping to get rid of the liquor smell on my breath. It was going to be bad enough being yelled at for coming home late; I didn’t want to add boozing to my list of crimes.

I entered the house and found Pop’s door closed. It was clear he was in there, though, talking to someone. That was fine. If he’d decided that he’d rather have me out of his hair than deal with me, then out of his hair I would be.

“Ah, Iris—is you.” Mrs. Mrozenski appeared near the kitchen, a dish towel in her hands. “I get worried.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I had a meeting after school.” The lie came too easily and I hated myself for it. What happened to being honest with everyone from here on out? I guess it didn’t matter when it was clear Pop wasn’t doing the same.

“I hear you go to your aunt’s this weekend.”

“Yeah. Pop seemed to think it would be a good idea.” I nodded toward the closed office door. “Who’s in there?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Client, I guess. I have food when you ready.”

I told her I’d be in shortly, that I needed to wash up first. As soon as she disappeared back into the kitchen, I crouched before Pop’s door and peered through the vent. I was half expecting to find Betty, but instead saw what was clearly a man. As I watched, he stood up and turned so that he was facing the door. He looked familiar. I knew I’d seen him before but I couldn’t recall where.

They were nearing the end of their conversation. I left the floor and bounced to the sofa. There was nothing on the coffee table to use to hide my interest, so I picked up the photo of Mama and tried to act like I was studying it.

Pop’s door opened. The man exited, saw me, tipped his hat, and offered a smile. And just like that I knew where I’d seen him: he was the man I’d tailed the previous weekend, the one whose picture I’d taken after he’d confronted me for following him.

But why was he here?

I didn’t know what to say. Had he tracked me down? Was Pop in trouble? Pop appeared in the doorway behind him, a look on his face that made it clear he would’ve preferred if the man had made a sharp right and never paused in his path. “I’ll see you out, Jim,” he told him.

They both walked out the door. I dashed after them to observe what was going on from the small window that butted against the doorjamb. They were on the sidewalk, talking. Both men were smiling. There was something almost collegiate about them, like two old friends who’d spent the afternoon catching up. They shook hands and exchanged some parting words that were impossible to hear from inside the house.

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