knuckles press against her flesh.
She slowly walked into the living room, feeling all of fourteen again. The couch was pushed up against the wall on the left-hand side, just like it always had been. Kathleen Avery was sitting in the middle of it, her head turned toward the door. Suddenly her face broke into a broad smile.
“Come over here, honey.”
Ingrid let out a silent breath of relief. Kathleen wasn’t as big as she’d imagined. Morbidly obese, certainly, but it didn’t seem she was totally immobile. Ingrid edged toward the couch, staring at Kathleen’s flushed cheeks, her short light brown hair peppered with gray. She was wearing a long flowered smock dress over a pair of black leisure pants.
“Don’t be bashful. Come sit right next to me.” Her voice was just the same, thick like molasses, with a sing-song quality about it. A sudden memory of Kathleen singing lullabies to them when Ingrid stayed over as a child jumped into her head. Something she hadn’t thought of in years.
After more coaxing from Kathleen, Ingrid did as she was told and eased herself down onto the soft upholstery of the couch, sliding sideways into the dip that Kathleen was creating in the middle seat cushion. A heavy arm wrapped around Ingrid’s waist, pulling her further in. Kathleen planted a kiss on Ingrid’s cheek.
“Don’t you smell all grown up?”
Ingrid suspected it was the aroma of strong black coffee on her breath and the stink of Svetlana’s cigarettes clinging to her hair that was creating the impression of adulthood. The last time Kathleen had laid eyes on her she was still firmly stuck in an awkward adolescence that threatened to go on forever.
Kathleen smelled the same as she always had: of sweet apples and fresh baked pastry. Immediately Ingrid was transported to the late eighties, sitting in the kitchen if this house, devouring a pile of pie and ice cream, wishing Kathleen was her mom and not Svetlana.
Maybe she still did a little.
Kathleen stopped squeezing her for a moment to point a remote at the forty-eight inch TV playing noisily on the other side of the room. “I pretty much have it on twenty-four seven—just in case there’s any news.” She looked toward the doorway at Svetlana who was hovering there.
“I’m going to the backyard,” she announced. “I need a smoke.” She marched through the room, glancing at Ingrid as she passed. It was the first time her mother had displayed any hint of tact. She must have guessed Ingrid needed a little privacy to speak to Kathleen. Their phone conversation the day before had been very brief.
“I guess you’ve been wondering why I haven’t come to see you in all these years,” Ingrid began.
“We all have our own way of dealing with pain.” Kathleen wrinkled her nose, as if she was about to sneeze. Her eyes watered. “I’m not going to make any judgment about the way you dealt with yours.” She smiled weakly at Ingrid. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t have liked to see you. I’d have loved it, but I can understand how hard it was for you. I really can.” Tears fell from her eyes.
“No—there’s more to it than that. There’s stuff you don’t know.”
Kathleen sniffed and dabbed her eyes with a lilac lace handkerchief. “Is it something you really need to tell me?”
Ingrid frowned into the woman’s flushed face and noticed the deep lines around her eyes and mouth for the first time.
“I mean, it might very well be good for you to say what you’ve been keeping to yourself all these years, but do you think it would be good for me to hear it?” She wiped her nose with the handkerchief.
Ingrid had to look away. She gazed down at the swirling pattern in the textured carpet. It seemed to move somehow, like waves on the sea. It made her feel a little sick. She felt Kathleen’s chubby fingers wrap around her hand. “I just thought I should tell you exactly what I remember,” Ingrid said. “What I did.” And what I didn’t do.
“You were both not much more than babies.” She sniffed again. “You can’t be blamed for what happened.”
“I’m so sorry, Mrs Avery.”
“It wasn’t your fault, do you hear me?”
Tears sprang from Ingrid’s eyes and down her cheeks before she even realized she was crying. Kathleen pulled her toward her huge breasts and stroked her hair. She patted a hand against her leg. Sudden sobs issued from Ingrid’s mouth, she was unable to keep them under