anymore, either. Or give him a hint of what her plans were. She had secrets again. Her and Chaleen. Ugly secrets, crazy secrets. He was sure of that much.
She was out with Chaleen now, in the middle of the afternoon. Hadnât said that was where she was going, just said sheâd be out for a while, but heâd heard her on the phone through her bedroom door before she left and it was plain enough who she was talking to.
He didnât understand it. What did she want Chaleen for? She had a good thing going with Mr. Vorhees, a decent guy to work for, a guy who treated her rightâbought her things, gave her money to help pay the rent on the apartment. Mr. Vorhees treated him decent, too, never talked down to him. Tried to get his wife to drop the theft charge, but Cory said the woman was too full of hate to listen to reason. Sure, Mr. Vorhees was still married, but legally separated, and Coryâd had affairs with married men beforeââI donât subscribe to societyâs moral standards,â that was always her excuse. Besides, she said, it was different with Mr. Vorhees because he loved her and she loved him and they were going to get married after his wife was out of the picture. So why was she risking everything by sneaking off and letting Chaleen do it to her, too?
Sheâd turned into a different person since they moved to San Francisco. Most of the time theyâd lived in Marina del Rey and Newport Beach, sheâd been loving and kind and caring, but now she was back to being the wild thing sheâd been when that other bastard, Hutchinson, got his hooks into her. Or maybe sheâd been that way all along, just didnât let him see it.
He didnât like that Cory at all. Lying to him. Telling people he used drugs when he never had. Making him do crazy, hurtful things like being arrested for stealing Mrs. Vorheesâ necklace and then not explaining why, just saying over and over, âDonât worry, Kenny, donât I always do whatâs best for us?â
No, she didnât always do what was best. Sheâd done a lot of crazy stuff he knew about and probably some he didnât. Like messing with that damn rich teenager in L.A. for money. And all the sick shit with Hutchinson. And treating poor Mr. Lassiter so bad heâd ended up killing himself. That wasnât her fault, she said, she had no idea he was suicidal, but it was her fault. Sneaking around with other guys, taking money she wasnât supposed to have, fighting with the man all the time. Maybe sheâd even planned it. There was something kind of funny about the night Mr. Lassiter died, tooâCory making him say he was there with her in the house when it happened, when she and Mr. Lassiter had been alone together. The lie was to keep people from getting the wrong idea, sheâd said, and he believed her, but still it bothered him whenever he thought about it.
All these things preying on his mind scared him, made him nervous as hell. He couldnât sit still, just kept prowling the apartment. It wasnât so bad when Cory went away at night and locked him in, not that she had to do thatâhe knew he had to stay in the city now, he was resigned to it, so he just watched TV or read one of his nautical books until she came home or he went to sleep.
But it was different when he was by himself like this during the day, free but not free. He could go out if he wanted to, but the trouble was, he had nowhere to go. Well, down to the yacht club to look at the boats, Cory was okay with that, but he had to tell her ahead of time in order to get the bus fare. She wouldnât let him have any money otherwise, and he didnât have any now. The only other thing he could do was walk around the neighborhood, up and down the steep hills, and all that did was make him more nervous, more restless.
God, he wished he had somebody to talk to besides Cory. A friend he could unload his troubles to,
She was out with Chaleen now, in the middle of the afternoon. Hadnât said that was where she was going, just said sheâd be out for a while, but heâd heard her on the phone through her bedroom door before she left and it was plain enough who she was talking to.
He didnât understand it. What did she want Chaleen for? She had a good thing going with Mr. Vorhees, a decent guy to work for, a guy who treated her rightâbought her things, gave her money to help pay the rent on the apartment. Mr. Vorhees treated him decent, too, never talked down to him. Tried to get his wife to drop the theft charge, but Cory said the woman was too full of hate to listen to reason. Sure, Mr. Vorhees was still married, but legally separated, and Coryâd had affairs with married men beforeââI donât subscribe to societyâs moral standards,â that was always her excuse. Besides, she said, it was different with Mr. Vorhees because he loved her and she loved him and they were going to get married after his wife was out of the picture. So why was she risking everything by sneaking off and letting Chaleen do it to her, too?
Sheâd turned into a different person since they moved to San Francisco. Most of the time theyâd lived in Marina del Rey and Newport Beach, sheâd been loving and kind and caring, but now she was back to being the wild thing sheâd been when that other bastard, Hutchinson, got his hooks into her. Or maybe sheâd been that way all along, just didnât let him see it.
He didnât like that Cory at all. Lying to him. Telling people he used drugs when he never had. Making him do crazy, hurtful things like being arrested for stealing Mrs. Vorheesâ necklace and then not explaining why, just saying over and over, âDonât worry, Kenny, donât I always do whatâs best for us?â
No, she didnât always do what was best. Sheâd done a lot of crazy stuff he knew about and probably some he didnât. Like messing with that damn rich teenager in L.A. for money. And all the sick shit with Hutchinson. And treating poor Mr. Lassiter so bad heâd ended up killing himself. That wasnât her fault, she said, she had no idea he was suicidal, but it was her fault. Sneaking around with other guys, taking money she wasnât supposed to have, fighting with the man all the time. Maybe sheâd even planned it. There was something kind of funny about the night Mr. Lassiter died, tooâCory making him say he was there with her in the house when it happened, when she and Mr. Lassiter had been alone together. The lie was to keep people from getting the wrong idea, sheâd said, and he believed her, but still it bothered him whenever he thought about it.
All these things preying on his mind scared him, made him nervous as hell. He couldnât sit still, just kept prowling the apartment. It wasnât so bad when Cory went away at night and locked him in, not that she had to do thatâhe knew he had to stay in the city now, he was resigned to it, so he just watched TV or read one of his nautical books until she came home or he went to sleep.
But it was different when he was by himself like this during the day, free but not free. He could go out if he wanted to, but the trouble was, he had nowhere to go. Well, down to the yacht club to look at the boats, Cory was okay with that, but he had to tell her ahead of time in order to get the bus fare. She wouldnât let him have any money otherwise, and he didnât have any now. The only other thing he could do was walk around the neighborhood, up and down the steep hills, and all that did was make him more nervous, more restless.
God, he wished he had somebody to talk to besides Cory. A friend he could unload his troubles to,
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