Read Online A Grant County Collection by Karin Slaughter - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karin Slaughter
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drawers, looking for her swimsuit. She said, 'Maybe that's all it is for me, too. Maybe I'm just having a good time.'
'I wish I could believe you.'
'I wish you could, too,' Sara told her. 'Because it's true.'
'I don't know, baby. You have such a gentle heart.'
'It's not that gentle anymore.'
'What happened to you in Atlanta doesn't change who you are.'
Sara shrugged, tucking her swimsuit into the case. It was how other people had changed that made what happened even more horrible. Sara was angry as hell that she had been raped, and livid that the animal who had attacked her could, and probably would, get out of jail in a few years with good behavior. She was pissed off that her whole life had been turned upside down, that she'd had to resign her internship at Grady Hospital, the job she had worked toward her entire life, because everyone in the ER treated her like broken china. The attending who had worked on Sara could no longer look her in the eye, and her fellow students wouldn't joke with her for fear of saying the wrong thing. Even the nurses treated her with kid gloves, as if being raped made Sara some sort of martyr.
Cathy said, 'Is that all I get? That look from you that says you don't want to talk about it?'
'I don't want to talk about it,' Sara told her, exasperated. 'I don't want to talk about anything serious. I'm tired of being serious.' She tugged at the zipper on the suitcase. 'I'm tired of being the smartest girl in the class. I'm tired of being too tall for the cute boys. I'm tired of dating men who are worried about my feelings and wanna take it slow and be gentle and process what we're doing and plan our future together and treat me like I'm some delicate flower and –'
'Mason James is a very sweet boy.'
'That's the point, Mama. He's a boy. I'm sick of boys. I'm sick of people walking on eggshells around me, trying to protect my feelings. I want somebody to shake things up. I want to have fun.' Without thinking, she said, 'I want to fuck around.'
Cathy gasped – not because she had never heard the word before, but because she had never heard it from Sara. Sara could think of only a few occasions when she had used the expletive, but never in front of her mother.
All Cathy said was, 'Language, please.'
'You don't mind when Tessa says it.'
Cathy wrinkled her nose at the logic. 'Tessa says it like she means it, not like she's trying to shock her mother.'
'I say it all the time,' Sara lied.
'Do your cheeks always get that red when you do?'
Sara felt her cheeks go redder.
'From here,' Cathy coached, pressing her hand below her diaphragm. She gestured broadly with her other hand, singing an operatic 'Fuck.'
'Mother!'
'If you're going to say it, say it with gusto.'
'I don't need you to tell me how to say it,' Sara snapped, and when Cathy laughed in her face, she added a mumbled 'Or how to do it.'
Cathy laughed harder. 'I suppose you know all about it now?'
Sara jerked the suitcase off her bed. 'Let's just say some of that expertise rubbed off.'
'Oh-ho-ho,' Cathy chuckled appreciatively.
Sara tucked her hands into her hips. 'We do it all the time.'
'Is that a fact?'
'Night and day.'
'And day?' Cathy laughed again, sitting back on the bed. 'Scandalous!'
'It's not like I'm seeing him for the scintillating conversation,' Sara bragged. 'I don't even know if he went to college.'
From the doorway, Tessa said, 'Sara?'
'As a matter of fact,' Sara continued, wanting more than anything to take the smug look off her mother's face, 'I'm fairly certain he's not even that smart.'
Cathy smiled like she knew better. 'That so?'
Tessa tried again. 'Sara?'
'Yes, that's so, and you know what? I don't even care. He's probably stupid as a box of hair and I don't give a rat's ass. It's not like I'm dating him for his mind.'
Tessa said, 'For chrissake, Sara. Just shut up and turn around.'
She did as she was told, regret taking hold like a fever.
Jeffrey was leaning against the door, his arms crossed
'I wish I could believe you.'
'I wish you could, too,' Sara told her. 'Because it's true.'
'I don't know, baby. You have such a gentle heart.'
'It's not that gentle anymore.'
'What happened to you in Atlanta doesn't change who you are.'
Sara shrugged, tucking her swimsuit into the case. It was how other people had changed that made what happened even more horrible. Sara was angry as hell that she had been raped, and livid that the animal who had attacked her could, and probably would, get out of jail in a few years with good behavior. She was pissed off that her whole life had been turned upside down, that she'd had to resign her internship at Grady Hospital, the job she had worked toward her entire life, because everyone in the ER treated her like broken china. The attending who had worked on Sara could no longer look her in the eye, and her fellow students wouldn't joke with her for fear of saying the wrong thing. Even the nurses treated her with kid gloves, as if being raped made Sara some sort of martyr.
Cathy said, 'Is that all I get? That look from you that says you don't want to talk about it?'
'I don't want to talk about it,' Sara told her, exasperated. 'I don't want to talk about anything serious. I'm tired of being serious.' She tugged at the zipper on the suitcase. 'I'm tired of being the smartest girl in the class. I'm tired of being too tall for the cute boys. I'm tired of dating men who are worried about my feelings and wanna take it slow and be gentle and process what we're doing and plan our future together and treat me like I'm some delicate flower and –'
'Mason James is a very sweet boy.'
'That's the point, Mama. He's a boy. I'm sick of boys. I'm sick of people walking on eggshells around me, trying to protect my feelings. I want somebody to shake things up. I want to have fun.' Without thinking, she said, 'I want to fuck around.'
Cathy gasped – not because she had never heard the word before, but because she had never heard it from Sara. Sara could think of only a few occasions when she had used the expletive, but never in front of her mother.
All Cathy said was, 'Language, please.'
'You don't mind when Tessa says it.'
Cathy wrinkled her nose at the logic. 'Tessa says it like she means it, not like she's trying to shock her mother.'
'I say it all the time,' Sara lied.
'Do your cheeks always get that red when you do?'
Sara felt her cheeks go redder.
'From here,' Cathy coached, pressing her hand below her diaphragm. She gestured broadly with her other hand, singing an operatic 'Fuck.'
'Mother!'
'If you're going to say it, say it with gusto.'
'I don't need you to tell me how to say it,' Sara snapped, and when Cathy laughed in her face, she added a mumbled 'Or how to do it.'
Cathy laughed harder. 'I suppose you know all about it now?'
Sara jerked the suitcase off her bed. 'Let's just say some of that expertise rubbed off.'
'Oh-ho-ho,' Cathy chuckled appreciatively.
Sara tucked her hands into her hips. 'We do it all the time.'
'Is that a fact?'
'Night and day.'
'And day?' Cathy laughed again, sitting back on the bed. 'Scandalous!'
'It's not like I'm seeing him for the scintillating conversation,' Sara bragged. 'I don't even know if he went to college.'
From the doorway, Tessa said, 'Sara?'
'As a matter of fact,' Sara continued, wanting more than anything to take the smug look off her mother's face, 'I'm fairly certain he's not even that smart.'
Cathy smiled like she knew better. 'That so?'
Tessa tried again. 'Sara?'
'Yes, that's so, and you know what? I don't even care. He's probably stupid as a box of hair and I don't give a rat's ass. It's not like I'm dating him for his mind.'
Tessa said, 'For chrissake, Sara. Just shut up and turn around.'
She did as she was told, regret taking hold like a fever.
Jeffrey was leaning against the door, his arms crossed
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