Authors: Cheryl Rainfield
I stiffen. That
’
s what the doctor told Mason in the vision.
Mason shakes his head.
“
I wouldn ’
t be bringing this up, but there ’
s things she ’
s been saying lately about me and Jenna that upset Jenna and it ’
s got me worried. Don ’
t you think you should get Kate checked out?
”
My body grows cold. He ’
s trying to discredit me.
Jenna bows her head, her hair hiding her face.
“
It ’
s not your place to tell us how to raise our daughter, ”
Dad says, wagging his spoon at Mason. A piece of apple drops onto the tablecloth.
“
I ’
m sorry, sir, but I disagree. When her behavior hurts my wife, it ’
s my business.
”
Mason turns to me.
“
I ’
ve arranged an appointment with a specialist. If you would just see him—”
I can hardly believe this is happening. I look at Jenna.
Say something!
Jenna raises her head.
“
You should go see the doctor, ”
she says softly, her eyes pleading with me.
“
What can it hurt?
”
Has she forgotten all those months after the police and social workers invading our home? Mom and Dad ’
s sadness, their anger, their silence? The way they barely looked at me? I haven ’
t.
“
I ’
m not crazy, ”
I say, my voice shaking.
“
I didn ’
t say crazy, ”
Mason says.
“
This could be medical, something completely out of your control. But it should be looked at—if only for your health.
”
Right. Play the health card . I glance at Mom. Her face is still and tight, her eyes darting back and forth between us all.
“
That ’
s enough!
”
Dad rams his chair back and stands.
“
Who do you think you are to come here and tell us how to raise our daughter?
”
he shouts.
“
Kate is just fine!
”
“
Ian, ”
Mom says, tugging his arm, “
Sit down.
”
“
I disagree, sir, ”
Mason says, still sitting, leaning back in his chair like he owns the place.
“
She ’
s causing Jenna a lot of pain.
”
Oh, that
’
s rich.
I ’
m causing the pain. I glance over at Jenna. Her head is bowed, her hands clenched in her lap.
“
Jenna, tell him I ’
m not crazy, ”
I say.
“
You know I didn ’
t make it up.
”
Jenna raises her head, her eyes brimming over. Her gaze darts to Mason, then back to me.
“
Jenna can ’
t tell you that, Kate, ”
Mason says, “
Because it ’
s not true.
”
“
I wasn ’
t asking you, Mason. I was asking Jenna, ”
I say.
“
Jenna?
”
Jenna shakes her head, her eyes pleading.
“
You have to stop this.
”
A tear slides down her cheek.
“
It ’
s not fair to me and Mason.
”
“
There. You see how hard this is on Jenna?
”
Mason asks.
Outside, lightning cracks, making me jump. Rain beats on the windows.
“
She made Jenna cry again.
”
Mason stands, knocking over his wine glass, red staining the tablecloth in a widening pool.
“
You need to get your daughter under control.
”
He grips Jenna ’
s shoulder.
“
Come on, babe. Let ’
s go home, ”
he says, and holds out his hand.
Jenna lets him help her up and leans into him, like he ’
s sheltering her from a strong wind.
Mom stands, too, her twisted napkin in her hand.
“
Please don ’
t go, Jenna. Mason. I know you ’
re upset, but let ’
s try to work this out. We love you.
”
“
You have a funny way of showing your love, ”
Mason says, guiding Jenna out of the living room, his arm around her.
“
You play favorites and Jenna ’
s always come last. Why should I be surprised it ’
s no different now?
”
His words punch my gut.
“
That ’
s not true, ”
Mom says, but Jenna and Mason are already out the door.
“
Drive safe!
”
she yells, but I doubt they heard her over the storm.
Mom comes back and plunks herself down in her chair, staring vacantly at the table.
“
What just happened?
”
Dad sits down and rubs his face with his hands.
“
I shouldn ’
t have lost my temper. But that boy—I ’
ve never liked him. And Jenna has withdrawn since she ’
s been with him.
”
Dad sighs heavily, and looks at me.
“
Tell us what you ‘
saw ’
again.
”
I crease my napkin in my hands, making and remaking a butterfly, and tell them what I saw. Tell them about the photo, the shattered glass. The beating. I don ’
t tell them about Mason killing her—that would be too much for them to believe.
Dad sits there quietly, not interrupting, his eyes dark, his jaw clenched, his hands clasped so tightly in front of him that the tips of his fingers are white. Mom ’
s face looks almost bloodless, her eyes glassy with tears.
“
Whether or not your visions are real, ”
Dad says once I finish, “
I think you have a good sense about people. And Jenna looked miserable tonight. Elizabeth, what do you think?
”
“
I think we ’
re losing Jenna, ”
Mom says in a warbly voice, propping her head up with her hands.
“
I never played favorites—but Kate ’
s health took up more of my attention and time, and Mason ’
s playing on that. And I didn ’
t like what he said about Kate. I ’
m worried about Jenna, Ian. Something ’
s not right there.
”
I told you what ’
s not right!
I want to say, but I don ’
t. That they ’
re even considering that there might be truth to my visions amazes me. And the most important thing is that we protect Jenna.
“
What do we do?
”
I say.
“
Jenna won ’
t admit he ’
s hitting her. How do we get keep safe?
”
“
Jenna and I haven ’
t spent much time together since she eloped, ”
Mom says.
“
Mason always comes with her. I think it ’
s time I took her out for lunch on her own. Maybe she ’
ll talk to me then.
”
“
And I could invite Mason out for a beer at the same time, ”
Dad says.
I think about the way Jenna leaned into Mason, like he was protecting her from us—from me.
“
What if you can ’
t get Jenna to tell you anything?
”
I ask.
Mom massages her forehead.
“
I am not going to let a child of mine be hurt. I need to hear it from Jenna herself—but if I find out that Mason has been beating her, I will do serious bodily damage to that man, and that ’
s a promise.
”
She stands and gathers dishes to take into the kitchen. They clatter in her hands.
I jump up to help and Dad does, too. We clear the table silently, until all that ’
s left is the big red stain on the tablecloth, dark as blood.
I lie on my bed, staring up at my flying-pigs origami mobile. I can ’
t get Jenna ’
s face out of my head, the way her eyes pleaded with me. I know she ’
s hurting. Everyone can see that. But what if I ’
m wrong? What if Mason ’
s not the one hurting her? What if it ’
s just me seeing something that ’
s not real?
My cell rings. Jenna. I take a deep breath and answer.
“
You need to back off, ”
Jenna says, her voice thick.
“
Mason ’
s becoming obsessive about you and the way you ’
re trying to break us up. He begged me not to leave him. I ’
ve never seen him like this. Whatever you think you saw, Kate, you have to stop talking about it.
”
“
I ’
m just trying to help.
”
“
You want to help me? You really want to help? Then stop accusing Mason of hurting me. Stop telling everyone about it. Just stop, okay? You ’
re making it worse.
”
She sounds so scared.
“
Why don ’
t you come stay with us for a few days?
”
“
Kate!
”
Jenna shouts, her voice cracking.
“
I mean it. Mom and Dad may let you do anything you want, but I won ’
t. Just stop!
”
And she hangs up.
I sit up, wanting to throw my phone across the room. I grab a piece of origami paper from my dresser and start folding and folding, trying to calm myself. I never saw my visions as a curse, but they ’
re starting to feel like one now. Or maybe it ’
s how I ’
m using them. Maybe I shouldn ’
t tell anyone about them. But how can I let Jenna keep getting beaten? At least Inez was helped by my visions, wasn ’
t she?
I text Gil. He doesn ’
t respond right away.
I fold and fold until I have paper butterflies and flying pigs all over my bed.
And then my phone vibrates. I snatch it up.
“
Can ’
t talk now. More l8tr.
”
This time I really do throw my cell across the room. Then I get up, take my nightly medicine, brush my teeth, and crawl into bed.
I
’
m eating organic oatmeal with berries at the kitchen table when the doorbell rings.
“
I ’
ll get it, ”
Mom says, setting down her coffee mug .
I hear voices and then Mom calls “
Kate, it ’
s for you!
”
Nobody ever comes to see me. I walk out to find Mom standing at the door beside Gil, a bemused look on her face.
“
Oh! Mom, this is Gil. Gil, this is my mom, ”
I say.
“
Yes, we ’
ve met, ”
Mom says dryly.
Gil shuffles his feet.
“
I thought I could walk you to school.
”
He looks at my mom.
“
That is, if that ’
s okay with you, Mrs. Robbins.
”