Dead by Wednesday. Beverly Long

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СКАЧАТЬ too cold getting here.”

      “I took the bus,” she said. She sat but didn’t take off her coat.

      “Better than walking,” Carmen said, keeping up the small talk. “I have a younger brother, and when I don’t have early-morning meetings, I drop him and his best friend off at school.”

      “My mother doesn’t work. She takes my sister and me to school every day. Picks us up, too. That’s what Frank Sage wants.”

      “Stepdad?” Carmen asked, noting the use of the first name.

      “Nope. His blood is my blood. Let me tell you, that has kept me up a few nights. He doesn’t like it when I call him Frank. My mom thinks it’s disrespectful, too.”

      “Do you say it to be disrespectful?”

      “I say it because I can.”

      Maybe that’s why she’d had sex. Because she could. And now she was in a heap of trouble. “How did you find out about Options for Caring Mothers?” Carmen asked.

      “My counselor at school. She gave me an OCM brochure.”

      That was how many of their referrals came. “I’m glad that happened,” Carmen said. “Did you tell her that you were pregnant?”

      “I think the school nurse told her. I got sick a couple times at school. The nurse thought I had the flu and wanted to send me home. I had to tell her the truth.”

      “But you haven’t told your parents?”

      “No.”

      “Why not?”

      Alexa chewed her lip. “My dad works in some little factory and he hates his job. He gets mad when my sister or I get a B. Says that if we’re not careful, we’re going to be trapped in some dead-end job. When he finds out that I’m going to quit school to take care of the baby, he’s not going to be happy.”

      “So, you’re planning on keeping your baby?”

      The girl nodded.

      “What about the father of the baby?”

      This got a shrug. “He’s a junior, too, so we’re not, you know, getting married or anything, but he’s cool with it.”

      “He hasn’t told his parents?”

      “There’s only his mom. And no, we both agreed that we wouldn’t say anything to anybody.”

      Alexa was mature, but was she mature enough to handle a child? “Have you considered adoption?” Carmen asked.

      Alexa shook her head. “So that she can be raised by somebody like my parents? No, thanks.”

      Carmen nodded. Not much to say to that, was there? “Have you had any prenatal care?”

      Alexa nodded. “At the health department. Everything is fine. I’m twenty-eight weeks. The baby is due April 15.”

      “How much longer do you think you can hide your pregnancy from your family?” Carmen asked.

      “Probably not much longer. In a week, I have a family wedding. I’m not going to be able to wear a sweatshirt and baggy pants or my coat. I think the cat is going to be pretty much out of the bag.”

      “You should tell your parents before then,” Carmen said.

      “I know. That’s why I’m here. Frank doesn’t do so good with surprises. Goes a little crazy sometimes.”

      “What kind of crazy?” Carmen asked. “Crazy yelling or crazy something else?”

      “When my mother hit a post with the fender of our car, he slapped her so hard that he split her lip.”

      Carmen felt sick.

      “You were the counselor who helped my neighbor, Angelina. She said you were wonderful. I was hoping you could be there when I tell him.”

      Chapter Two

      Raoul almost dropped his trombone when a skinny man stepped out of the dry cleaner’s doorway, right into his path. His dark hair was slicked down on his head and pulled back into a short ponytail. His skin was really pale and he had gray eyes.

      “Hi, there,” the man said.

      He was about six inches taller than Raoul, which basically wasn’t all that tall. His shoulders were wide and he had on a really ugly plaid coat.

      Raoul tried to step around him.

      The man stepped with him, blocking his path.

      “Hey, man,” Raoul said. He’d already had a really bad day and all he wanted was to go home.

      “Is that how you treat your friends, Raoul?”

      Friends? “Who are you? How do you know my name?” Raoul asked, feeling uncomfortable. He looked around. There were other people on the sidewalk, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention to him.

      “I know a lot about you. Your brother Hector and I were friends. Real tight.”

      Hector had been dead for eleven years. Whenever anybody said Hector’s name, his sister, Carmen, got a real funny look on her face and she got sad. Once, when he asked her about it, she said that she was just so sorry that Hector had died.

      That made him feel even worse that he couldn’t remember Hector. He’d only been four when he’d died. He couldn’t tell Carmen the truth. That would probably make her even sadder.

      “You really knew Hector?”

      “Oh, yeah. One time, before he died, he told me that if anything ever happened to him, that I should watch out for you.”

      Raoul didn’t know what to say to that and anyway, his throat felt tight.

      “Your brother used to talk about you all the time. Said that having a kid brother was cool.”

      Hector would have understood how hard it was to be the smallest kid in the class. He’d have known how humiliating it was to have someone jam your head into a toilet. He’d have known how ridiculous it felt to be tripped going down the hall and have your books fly everywhere.

      He’d have known how much it hurt when everyone laughed.

      “What’s your favorite song?” the man asked, giving Raoul’s shoulder a light punch.

      Raoul didn’t want to talk music. Even though this guy had been a friend of Hector’s, he sort of gave him the creeps. “What’s your name?” he asked again.

      The man shook his head. “We’ll talk soon, Raoul. I know what your brother wanted for you. I’m here to make sure you get it. Now, go home. Practice your music like a good boy.”

      * * *

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