Page 1 of Give Me Perfect Love

Chapter One

Kathrine

Twenty years earlier

Cold wind seeps through the windowpane as I stare out at tumbling snowflakes. They fall from silver-white puffy clouds and a steely sky. The big tree in the yard is holding on by a string as thick ice hangs off its old branches, weighing them down. One snaps, and I watch it land with a hard thump onto the ground, spraying snow dust and tree bark. A flutter of a gale moves clouds, giving way to the golden sunshine, and another branch falls, shattering pointy icicles along with it.

“There won’t be any left,” I say.

“What?”

“The branches. There won’t be any left if the wind keeps blowing.”

Mama walks over and looks out. I can see her reflection in the window as she wrings her hands in a faded red dishtowel, and I notice a look of sadness as it washes over her face.

“Everything goes eventually,” she whispers. I look from her reflection to her face, noticing her eyes focus ahead as though her mind has gone elsewhere.

Her distance isn’t new; she does this more often than not. Like she can’t cope with the now, so she disappears inside her head. It’s something I worry about, and even though I’m a child, I think I understand why she does it.

She isn’t happy.

And it shows.

“Wanna go play in the snow?” I ask, trying to cheer her up. She doesn’t answer me. “Mama,” I say, shaking her arm.

“Hmm, baby?” She moves her eyes from the window and looks at me.

“I said, do you wanna go play in the snow?”

“No. I’ve got other plans for us.” Her lips brush against my forehead before she walks back to the sink, picking up the lit cigarette that was resting in the ashtray. Smoke twists and twirls upward. I follow its path and notice the ceiling, stained yellow.

“What other plans?” I ask, turning back to the show outside and blowing my breath onto the window. I draw a heart into the fog I’ve created and look past it into the field that surrounds our house. We’re alone out here. Not another house for a while. I hate how secluded we are.

“Go get your shoes,” she says, drying her hands off and holding the brown filter between her lips. She leans against the counter and gazes out the window. Her dirty blonde hair falls across her forehead. She moves it out of the way before rubbing a finger mindlessly over her lips.

Mama is pretty in her own way. She’s younger than all the other moms I see at school, but there’s something about her that makes her seem older. She doesn’t wear makeup or do anything with her hair. She just doesn’t seem to care.

Her eyes jump to me. “Stop staring and get your shoes,” she says as she grabs the dishtowel and swats it at me. I giggle at her playfulness and run to my room. I dash in excitedly and lift my shoes before running back to the kitchen. She puts the butt out and blows smoke away from me and into the air, swatting it with her hand.

I hate the way it smells.

“Sit down. I’ll put them on for you.”

“I can do it,” I say.

“You’re growing up too fast,” she says dolefully.

I hate that look she gives me when I don’t let her treat me like a little girl, so I sit down. “It’s okay. You can do it.”

She smiles. The bones in her knees creak when she bends them. “They’re having a special showing at the movies. Would you like to go see one with me?”

Excitement bubbles in my stomach. “Yes,” I say. I love going to the movies with her. It’s a chance to get out of this gloomy house and a sure way we won’t be aroundhim. Plus, she always takes me to see fairy tales.

Her eyes shoot up to mine. “Would you like to know what we’re going to see?”

I nod my head enthusiastically.

“Cinderella.” She smiles magically when she says it, like the word itself is a dream. Mama pats my leg for me to put my shoe down and reaches for my other.

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