Page 6 of More Than Nothing
He stood up behind his desk, pushed his hands deep into his pockets, and said nothing, waiting for her to continue.
“Do you know any more about what happened?” She searched his face and there was an added intensity to her voice that hadn’t been there before.
“I can’t give any details about an ongoing investigation,” he repeated by rote. “Why do you ask?”
Elenie looked away. “No reason. I used to babysit Millie, that’s all. I wondered if there was any news.”
“Not that I can release.” Roman let the silence sit to see if she’d say anything else, but instead she took a step over the threshold. He stopped her before she could leave. “The other morning in the diner with Chief Roberts... He was aggressive. There wasn’t any need for that.”
Elenie halted with one hand on the doorframe. A few moments ticked by. Her fingers traced a raised crack in the paintwork. “He was just saying what everyone thinks. My family is trash. And by default, so am I. You’ll find that out soon enough if you haven’t already.” Her poise was remarkable.
“What did you say to him? I didn’t recognize the language.”
Elenie’s mouth twitched and there was something about the unexpected mischief in the miniscule movement that rattled Roman’s senses. It felt like touching his tongue to a battery.
“You caught that, huh? I told him he’s as ugly as salad. It’s my favorite Bulgarian insult.” And she ducked out of the room before he could say anything else.
Chapter 3
Elenie
She knew. She just knew that Frank was involved at some level. And all Elenie could think about was Millie—the seven-year-old she’d babysat for, baking messy, uneven cupcakes, and the seventeen-year-old, fitting on the floor in the death throes of a house party.
Tyson had dealt drugs all the way through school. Weed at first and then, after it was legalized, anything else he could get his hands on. Or anything Frank passed his way. Dean dabbled here and there, too. Yet another reason Elenie had found it impossible to make friends over the years.
“Hi, I’m Elenie! I’d invite you to my house but, honestly, it’s a shithole. Oh, and sorry my stepbrother pushed drugs on your little sister, and my mother had a drunken shouting match with your mother at the general store. But on the plus side, my stepdad hasn’t set fire to anything this week.”
Yeah, on the whole, it was easier to find her friends inside the covers of a book.
Just the thought that someone under her own roof might have been responsible for Millie Westlake’s overdose had Elenie’s stomach in knots. Even reading wasn’t cutting it tonight. She turned the pages of the romance she’d borrowed from the library, trying to getlost in the yearning, but the hero was blond and a bit of an asshole, and her concentration was shot to ribbons.
“Want to watch a movie?”
She blinked at her mother standing in the doorway of the living room. Moments of connection between them were so rare that the offer took a minute for Elenie to compute. “Sounds good.” It sounded great.
They picked out a romcom and made themselves comfortable. Elenie swung her legs over the arm of the chair, noting new stains on the fabric and a cigarette burn she could fit her finger into. She submerged herself in the first half of the movie. They didn’t talk, but the silence was peaceful.
Her mother poured herself a vodka and Coke, and Elenie wondered if it was her first one of the day. Athena stretched out on the couch, long legs easily filling the space. Both taller and thinner than her daughter, she had been choosing alcohol or weed over food for as long as Elenie could remember. The worst times came when she lost herself in something harder.
She hadn’t always been Athena; her mother had been born plain Vivian. Apparently, she’d hated her life and enjoyed a lot of men—not something anyone wants to hear about their mom. Athena delighted in her decision to reinvent herself and change her name, as if it made her a role model of some sort. Elenie struggled to remember any occasion when Athena had taken the same pleasure in parenthood. Maybe if she’d been an easier baby or a cuter kid, things might have been different.
Isolated evenings like this were a huge part of why Elenie stayed in this godawful house, caught in the limbo land of being too old to still live at home, too broke to live elsewhere, and desperate enough for some kind—any kind—of relationship with her mother to put off working out a solution.
Sometimes she was ashamed of her childish need to prove Athena loved her.
“Have you heard about Millie Westlake?” The words escaped her before she’d fully decided whether or not to ask.
“The overdose kid?” Her mother took another long gulp of her drink. “Yeah, Frank told me.”
Elenie’s stomach roiled. “Her mom taught me at PS High. Millie’s the one I used to babysit.” Athena made a noise that might have been an acknowledgment, her eyes still on the screen. “No one else in Pine Springs would’ve let me look after their goldfish, let alone a child.”
“She liked you.”
Elenie’s skin felt too tight, her thoughts too abrasive. “They’re a nice family.”
That made Athena drag her eyes from the screen. “Didn’t stay in touch, though, did they? Not after you left school. You’ve always thought a bit of smarts makes a person better than the rest, but it doesn’t. Being clever, having clever parents, hasn’t done the Westlake kid any good, has it?”
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
