Childless: A Novel (19 page)

Julia took
a third glance at Tyler’s text message to confirm the address.

She had the right place, unlikely as it appeared. What had she expected? A half-abandoned apartment building? A yard filled with knee-high weeds? A broken-down washing machine on the front porch? These were the images that came to mind whenever Troy mentioned dark zones. But Austin Tozer, whoever he was, lived in what appeared to be a modestly respectable neighborhood within jogging distance of the University of Colorado–Denver School of Medicine. Only peeling trim and graying roof shingles offered hints of the home’s concealed age.

She felt a mild vibration from her tablet, a reminder that the scheduled time had arrived. Julia moved toward the recently painted front door, shaking her head in disbelief. Troy’s scheme had actually worked. Paul Daugherty had jumped at the chance to present her concept to the editorial board, just as Troy had predicted. She frowned at the thought of Paul’s likely pitch.
You’ll never guess who I landed for the next weekend feature
! Julia hated the thought of Paul once again leveraging
her
work to increase
his
stature at RAP Media Syndicate. But it had to be done. Kevin needed this story. And many more.

When she reached the second of three porch steps Julia noticed a slight movement from the front window drapes. Had the man been watching her? For how long? Admiring eyes usually flatter a girl. But when hidden behind shadowy curtains they give her the creeps.

Before she could knock Julia noticed the door inching open. A partial face appeared from behind. Not a man. A woman? No. A girl. She looked Julia up and down as if eyeing an intruder before deciding whether to call the cops.

“Hi there,” Julia said through the gap. “My name is Julia Sim—Julia Davidson. I’m here to see Mr. Tozer. Austin Tozer.”

“Austin!” the girl shouted toward the back of the house. Then she disappeared, leaving Julia standing on the porch like a pizza delivery guy waiting for his tip.

A moment later the door fully opened. The man, like the house, caught Julia by surprise. She had, for some reason, expected a gruff, unshaven face and protruding beer belly. His thin torso and lean biceps lacked enough muscle tone to justify a tank top intended for less boyish forms. Patches of auburn whiskers splotched a face that could have used a shave but couldn’t produce a beard. At first glance she assumed Austin was barely beyond adolescence. But his eyes and thinning hair said mid- to late thirties. Possibly older.

“Sorry,” he said, motioning for Julia to enter. “Amanda never learned manners.”

She stepped into the front room. “Your daughter?”

He laughed. “Nope. Childless by choice. She’s my kid half sister. She lives with us.”

They stood for a moment while Austin looked around the room, scratching his neck. He seemed nervous, as if he had expected someone different.

“Is this still a good time to chat?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said quickly, glancing at the clock. “Perfect. Can I get you something? Water? Soda?”

Julia wasn’t thirsty, but she accepted the offer anyway.

“Back in a flash,” he said as if relieved by the opportunity to regroup. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

She moved to a chair situated across from the sofa, ideal for a face-to-face interview. When she sat, however, the cushion sank like a deflating balloon. Too many years had met too little padding. She scooted herself forward to find a patch of support while searching her tablet screen for a specific icon.

“May I record our conversation?” she asked as Austin reentered the room.

His face was hit with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry,” he said, offering his hand to rescue Julia from the wrong chair. “I should have warned you about that.” He quickly moved a pillow from the left side of the adjoining sofa. “Please. Sit here instead.”

Finally settled, she repeated her question. “May I record our conversation?”

He nodded. “Do you plan to use my real name?”

“Would that be a problem?” she asked. “I prefer it when possible.”

His eyes darted nervously at the other spot on the sofa, then back toward Julia. “Depends on what kinds of questions you ask,” he said, taking the open seat. “I’ll let you know when we’re done.”

Julia shifted her posture to face Austin, who was crossing and uncrossing his legs as if trying to assume the best position for an interview that suddenly felt like an awkward blind date.

Julia tapped the
RECORD
icon and placed the device on the space between them.

“Tyler Cain says the two of you are friends.”

Austin appeared surprised by the comment.

“He said you owed him a favor.” She smiled.

He didn’t laugh. “More like I owe him money.”

“Detective work?”

Austin chuckled. “That’s what Tyler calls it. Did me more harm than good.”

“I see,” Julia said without curiosity.

“I hired him a few years ago when I thought Gwen was cheating on me. She still gets irate every time I get an outstanding invoice reminder.”

“Gwen?”

“My partner. Been together nearly ten years.” Austin pointed up and back to a picture hanging on the wall behind his head. “That’s her there.”

Julia stood to take a closer look. The woman in the photograph appeared older than Austin. Peering beyond the artificially blond hair and an outfit more suited for Austin’s manners-deprived kid sister, she figured Gwen to be around forty. A self-conscious smile suggested a woman hoping to conceal teeth that had lost their former symmetry. There was a blotch on the right side of her neck just below the earlobe. A birthmark? Perhaps. But more likely a now-distorted tattoo applied to younger skin.

“She’s lovely,” Julia said generously.

“Thanks. I like her.”

Julia smiled at the mystery of human attraction as she reclaimed her spot on the sofa. “How’d you connect?”

“The seventh tier of Virtuality.”

“Virtuality?”

“A gaming universe. All my clan buddies made the switch to NuLIFE TREK. But I stuck with Virtuality. Call me old-school. Anyway, that’s how we met. It’s like we were meant to find each other. I’d probably still be living alone if Virtuality hadn’t brought us together.”

Julia smiled politely.

“Yep. Gwen and I hooked up online long before meeting face-to-face. Our avs were so hot together we just had to take it to level eight, if you know what I mean.”

“Avs?”

“Avatars. You know, our other selves.”

“Ah,” Julia said with a nod, pretending to follow.

“Sorry she couldn’t join us. The store called this morning offering a half-day shift.”

“I understand,” Julia said. “Take work when you can get it.”

“You know it.”

“How about you? Are you employed?”

Austin’s sunken chest appeared to expand slightly. “I actually just started a new job last week.”

“Congratulations.”

Julia waited for details. None came.

“Nothing much, but a lot better than sitting around here all day waiting for Gwen to get home. You can only play so many solo levels before you need your av-mate to advance. Plus, we need the cash. Mom’s estate was smaller than I expected. And the house still has a mortgage.”

“Did the house belong to your mother?”

“Yep. Lived here with Amanda.”

“Your sister?”

“Half sister.”

“How old is Amanda?”

“Twelve. No. Eleven.” He cursed. “I should probably keep better track of that now that I’m her legal guardian.”

“So you and Gwen moved into your mother’s house after her…passing?”

Austin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Before, actually.”

A moment of silence.

“Go on,” Julia prodded.

“Gwen and I moved in to help with Amanda after Mom got sick.”

He lifted his eyes to meet Julia’s. She held a sympathetic stare. He looked back toward the carpet.

“Well, not exactly sick. But she was pretty depressed.”

“That’s not true!”

Both looked toward the accusing feminine voice.

“Mom wasn’t depressed. You were!”

Amanda stepped around a hallway corner that must have led to three bedrooms and a bath. Her appearance startled Julia even more than the outburst. She was darling, possessing a natural beauty diligently buried beneath the common trappings of a girl trying to look like a woman. Dark mascara hid a noticeable innocence that reminded Julia of her nephew Jared. Both kids inhabited that awkward age when children yearn to escape carefree-ness for the prison of forbidden knowledge. Her clingy top revealed the promise of breasts not yet blossomed. A short skirt flared suggestively, the latest design of fashion moguls hoping preteen girls would join their mothers as eye candy for hungry males.

“We were perfectly fine before you and Hen started mooching off Mom.”

Austin frowned. “For the thousandth time, her name is Gwen. I hate it when you call her Hen!”

Julia resisted the urge to smile at Amanda’s “henpecked” insinuation as the girl stormed out of the room. A door opened, then slammed.

Austin shook his head in a blend of anger and humiliation. “Like I said. She never learned manners.” He breathed deeply. “Where was I?”

“You were telling me about your mother.”

He looked as if his mind remained fixed on the accusation. He stood up and took a single step in Amanda’s direction. Then he stopped.

“Right. My mother,” he said, reclaiming his seat.

“She volunteered?” Julia already knew the answer thanks to Tyler’s text.

“She
was
depressed,” he insisted. Then he looked Julia in the eyes, as if realizing he had mischaracterized his mom’s decision. “But that’s not why she transitioned.”

“She must have been fairly young,” Julia suggested.

Austin reached for a tablet sitting on the table beside the sofa. He tapped the screen and handed it to Julia.

“That’s her a few years back,” he said as Julia studied the picture.

“I see where your sister gets her beauty.”

“Half sister,” Austin corrected.

Brother and half sister had clearly inherited different ends of the gene pool. Austin must have come from sperm lacking rugged good looks. The man who had partnered in Amanda’s conception, by contrast, had merely jump-started a process that resulted in near-perfect transmission of feminine elegance from mother to daughter.

“Were they close?”

The question appeared to confuse Austin. “Was who close?”

“Amanda and her mother.”

“Oh. I guess.” He gave his answer another thought. “Actually, I’d say they oscillated between friends and enemies. Like a lot of mothers and daughters, I suppose.”

Julia absorbed the comment. “It must have been tough to lose her mom at such a young age. Ten?”

“Yep. Wait.” He cursed again, then started tapping fingers like a boy doing arithmetic. “Eleven. My mom volunteered a month after Amanda’s eleventh birthday.”

Julia tried to imagine the motivation for such a decision.

“In fact, Amanda’s birthday played a role.”

“How’s that?”

“Gwen and I had been living here for about a year. That’s when we noticed a growing sense of apathy in my mom. Some days it felt like despair.”

“A year after you moved in?”

“Yes.”

“Not before?”

“Before what?”

“Earlier you said you moved in to help with Amanda due to your mom’s depression.”

Austin’s eyes shifted toward the wall. “That’s right. We did,” he said pensively. “Of course, that wasn’t the only reason for the move.”

Julia reminded herself that Austin’s neighborhood officially qualified as “economically deprived.”

“Was money a reason?”

“Both Gwen and I lost our jobs during the meltdown. Couldn’t pay the rent. You know the rest.”

Julia nodded.

“Anyway,” he continued, “we thought it would be good for everyone if we pooled our resources.”

“What kind of resources?”

A blank stare.

“You mentioned that your mother’s estate was smaller than you thought.”

“Actually, I didn’t realize how small until later. Mom said her transition would provide more than enough to pay off the mortgage and establish a college nest egg for Amanda.” He gave a single laugh. “Hardly.”

Julia took a sip of soda. “What happened?”

“Bad math. She underestimated the transition service fees and inheritance tax rates. We barely got enough to pay off the mortgage.”

“I thought you said you still had a mortgage.”

“We do. The money would have been enough had I landed a steady job, which I didn’t.”

“So the money has been paying your monthly bills?”

He nodded.

“Even the portion intended for Amanda’s college fund?”

Another, slower nod.

“Anyway,” he continued, “shortly after Amanda’s eleventh birthday Mom and Gwen did a bit of number crunching. Gwen’s always been good with that sort of thing.”

Julia looked up at the picture of Gwen, then at the elegant face smiling on Austin’s tablet. “So your partner helped your mother decide to volunteer?”

“Yes and no. She helped her work through a decision tree I brought home from Aspen House.”

“The NEXT clinic?”

“You know it?” Austin asked. “A really classy place.”

“I’ve driven past it. Looks…nice.”

“Anyway, it was clear we needed to do something drastic. I think Mom was the first one to say so.”

He looked at the ceiling as if trying to recall his mother’s precise words.

“‘We can’t continue like this.’ That’s what she said. ‘We need to make a major change.’”

“Why didn’t you sell the house?” Julia asked.

“Impossible. She wouldn’t even discuss it. A move would have been too unsettling for Amanda.”

More than losing a mother
? Julia thought.

“How did Amanda and your mom make it before you moved in?”

“Barely. That’s how they made it,” he said defensively. “Mom’s paycheck covered their monthly expenses. No more. She wasn’t saving anything for Amanda’s future.”