Chapter IX

The day dragged on, and my headache, which had disappeared the night before, came back. I found myself thinking about Jason, Diana, and Amanda. I wondered if I'd always get a headache when I thought about them. My relationships suddenly seemed so complicated, and I didn't like that one bit.
When my workday was over and I'd gotten safely home and done my evening chores, I still felt restless. My mind had gone back to obsessing about how much Amanda knew about Jason's relationship with Diana. If nearly everyone else in town knew, surely she couldn't be ignorant. Jason and she were close, and I tried to forgive her choosing to keep his secret at my expense, but it was hard.
After an hour of obsessing I decided to phone her. To my surprise, after three rings someone picked up the phone. It was someone female, but not Amanda. For a moment I didn't recognize the voice and worried that Diana was already there and answering the phone. Then I registered that the voice sounded like a scratchy, old phonograph record, the kind my dad sometimes pulled out and played, driving Donald absolutely crazy.
"This is Lisa Dunn, and I'd like to speak with Amanda, please," I said.
"She isn't here," the voice replied. "And I don't take messages."
It was Lore Harnisch, of course. Jason's grandmother. Who else would answer the phone that way?
"All right," I replied curtly, congratulating myself for being as polite as possible under the circumstances. "I'll phone back later."
"Don't bother," the voice grated at me like fingernails on a chalk board. "It's getting late and no one wants to talk to you anyway."
I laughed. I couldn't help it. "Well, thank you very much," I said. Then I hung up, knowing she'd be annoyed at not having gotten the last word.
The phone rang a moment later, and I halfway expected it to be Lore Harnisch calling back to get the last word. However it wasn't she. It was Miss Carswell.
"Lisa, I'm afraid I need to cancel our meeting tomorrow," she announced as soon as she realized I was the person who had answered.
"Is everything all right?" I asked.
"That depends on what you mean by all right," she said, sounding more bemused than worried. "Do you remember hearing Bob and me talk about the pregnant girl Stew has taken in?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Well, she's gone into early labor, and no one knows exactly what's going on."
"You mean she's here?" I squawked.
"Afraid so. Stew brought her along thinking she could use a little break from her everyday routine." She laughed sharply. "Some break!"
I didn't know what to say.
"Of course, we could meet at the hospital," she suggested. "She'll be staying there until her condition is stabilized. That is if it really is so important that you talk with me immediately."
"It's important," I sighed, "but it's going to be tough. I only have an hour for lunch and the hospital is…, well, you know where it is."
She said nothing.
"Why do you have to be at the hospital anyway?" I asked and immediately felt like a spoiled brat. I tried to justify my reaction to myself but only made myself feel worse by adding, "I mean, it's nice of you, but you don't even know her."
She was silent again for a few seconds, then said, "Except for Stew, no one here knows her, and he's not someone I would want to be dependent on in her situation."
"But he took her in, so she is dependent on him," I protested.
"I meant dependent while in labor, Lisa. Stew is very kind, but he doesn't exactly inspire confidence."
"Why not?" I demanded.
She chuckled. "You'd have to meet him to know the answer to that."
"His voice inspires confidence," I persisted.
He chuckle grew more pronounced. "Well, his voice doesn't do justice to his person. He's very nice, of course, but…"
"Okay," I said. "Now you've piqued my curiosity. I'll meet you at the hospital at noon, unless I hear otherwise from you."
She seemed taken aback. "But I thought…"
"I'll get there," I said firmly.
"All right, Lisa," she agreed. "If you don't hear from me at the bank, I'll see you in the hospital waiting room at noon. If I'm not there, check obstetrics"
When I got off the phone with Miss Carswell I tried Amanda's number again, but no one answered this time. I wondered how Lore Harnisch had managed to get into the house when Amanda wasn't at home. I couldn't imagine that Amanda had let her in and allowed her to stay. Images of the grumpy old woman sneaking through the window and picking the lock on the door filled my head, and I had to laugh out loud.
"What's so funny?"
I looked up to see Donald glaring at me from about five feet away.
"Hello! Where did you come from?" I asked, surprised. What I really wanted to know was how long he'd been listening to my phone conversations. Not that I'd said anything about the reason I wanted to talk with Miss Carswell, but I was feeling slightly paranoid as far as he was concerned.
He continued to glare at me, leaning backwards with his hands on his hips. His stance said, "tough guy," but I knew him well enough to recognize that it was the way he usually stood when he was nervous.
"Up past your bed time, aren't you?" he growled.
I shrugged. "You too."
He shrugged in turn. "I'm not gong to school tomorrow. I'm going to go pick up my wheels."
I felt my eyebrows rise of their own accord. "Wheels?"
He nodded and swallowed several times. I could see his Adam's apple move.
"Yeah, I got rid of that stuff you were so worried about and used the money to put a down payment down on some wheels."
"Got rid as in sold," I replied. It wasn't a question.
"I had an order to fill, yeah," he replied in turn. "What of it? The stuff is gone. If I do any more business it won't be from here, okay?"
It wasn't okay, but I did feel a brief spasm of relief. If Donald didn't use our place as his business venue, maybe it would be safe from seizure when he got caught. But could I believe him?
"It's not okay," I said. "You shouldn't be dealing."
He snorted. "The money is too good to pass up, Lisa. I thought you'd be glad I didn't have the stuff anymore and wasn't going to work from here." He sounded genuinely disappointed in me.
I shook my head. "I'm relieved that we won't lose our home when you get busted for dealing. But you're my brother and I care about you. And I also think it's rotten to be selling date rape drugs."
He shook his head. "There is no such thing as a date rape drug. People don't do what they don't want to do. We're all responsible for our behavior," he recited. I wondered exactly who he was parroting.
"Especially when we're unconscious, right?" I challenged.
He looked at his feet. "If anyone is stupid enough to trust someone who'd drug her drink, she's either a moron or else she secretly wants it," he insisted. "Either way, it's not my doing. And I'm not going to get busted for dealing."
"Yeah, right. That's what every guy in prison thought at one time, I'm sure. And as for your excuses, they're pathetic," I snapped at him. "Really, really pathetic."
He shrugged. "Think what you like." He turned away and climbed the stairs to his room. I resisted the urge to follow him upstairs and check the bathroom cabinet to see if his stash was really gone. Even if it was, there was no reason to believe he didn't have drugs somewhere else in the house, no matter what he said. It hurt that I couldn't trust him, but I knew I had to accept that it was so.
I stayed by the phone for another half-hour trying to decide whether or not to try Amanda's number again.. Eventually I gave up and went to bed. I still had no idea how I was going to get from the bank to the hospital and back in an hour and still have time to talk with Miss Carswell. And then there was the mysterious Stew with the wonderful voice. I knew that a big part of the reason I'd impulsively offered to meet Miss Carswell at the hospital was because I was curious about him. I was sure he would be there, probably making a nuisance of himself in an effort to be helpful. After all, dependable or not, he was responsible for the girl now that he'd brought her here. Before I drifted off to sleep, I wondered for the first time what her name was and how she'd ever come to be in the situation she was in. But before I could get too involved in imagining her story, sleep came.