Kipuka Blues

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

CEREN STOOD in the doorway, silhouetted by summer evening light pouring from the street. Where Alice was thin and porcelain, Ceren looked like she could grow up to be a linebacker. For the men’s team. If there were any men left. I hoped her growth spurt would end soon, for her sake. Ceren wore a loose black T-shirt with the words The Birthday m******e splattered across it in lurid purple, denim shorts, and heavy leather hiking boots. Her hair was dyed a neon electric blue. I wouldn’t have guessed that Ceren was a TBM fan; they were a few years before her time. Then again, I like Pink Floyd, and that’s grandpa or even great-grandpa music.

I had a flash of an alternate future, one where Absolute hadn’t taken over the world. Ten years from now, Ceren might have been hanging around this same bar, slipping between the wooden tables to the glossy counter to demand brain death in a bottle. But she might have ridden a motorcycle to the door. She’d probably have tattoos and scarred knuckles. And Police Detective Kevin Holtzmann, a little heavier, a little grayer, a little slower, hoping to survive those few years left until retirement, would have shown up to sort out the trouble after some jerk had tried to grab her and wound up on the pool table in a puddle of personal pain.

That Ceren would never grow up.

Just like that Kevin would never retire.

“I waved,” my Ceren said. “You could have stopped. Given me a lift.”

Alice fluttered her hands up to her face. “Ceren! I’m sorry, I didn’t even see you. Brandi offered me a ride down, and we were talking, and—”

“It’s fine.” She waved her hand. “Fine. I made it. What’s dinner tonight?”

“Pork stew,” Jack said. “With rice.”

“Stewed leftovers,” Ceren said. “Grea-a-at. Leftover leftovers, made with leftovers. You running out of ideas or something?”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “You all can cook for yourself any time you like.”

I had this mental picture of Ceren in a onesie, deciding she wouldn’t spend her life taking crap from anyone. And she’d held to that vow every day since. When other girls got teary, Ceren grew fangs. But this was harsh, even for her. “What’s going on, Ceren?” I said.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Stew is fine. Let’s get a table.”

“It’s not ready yet,” I said. “We’re early.”

“Well, let’s get a table while we can,” she said.

Nobody could emote like a teenage girl. And she wouldn’t tell me anything until she felt ready. I tried to keep the frustration from my voice. “Fine.”

We snagged the small, square table that had replaced the jukebox. Ceren flung herself onto the blocky lacquered wooden stool. Alice sat herself more delicately on her stool, her bubbling cheer intimidated into silence. I studied the girls for half a second, then took my seat and said, “Someone giving you trouble, Ceren?”

“What? No, nothing like that.” She waved my words away. “Someone crosses me, I’ll feed them their kidneys. I’m fine.”

“I broke part of Legacy’s coding today,” Alice said.

Ceren nodded but didn’t smile. “Cool.”

Teenagers. You don’t get a manual, and they don’t let you use a club. The rules might have changed, but I wasn’t about to break that one. Time to try a new subject. “You notice anyone missing?”

“Missing?” Alice said, looking around the bar.

“Not from before,” I said. “I mean, missing now.”

“No,” Alice said. “Should we?”

“If you do, let me know,” I said.

“Sure,” Ceren said.

The uncomfortable silence resurfaced. Kevin had used silence as a tactic when investigating crimes. I hated having it used against me. It took me another moment to realize that I had news. “I found a house I think might work.”

“Up by the mall?” Ceren said.

Alice perked up.

I shook my head. “Eric and I went down part of Lakeshore today.”

Ceren’s mood inverted. “The lake?” A grin shattered her face. “Sweet!”

Alice made a face. “The lake? But—”

“I know,” I said. “I don’t like the idea of the lake either. But Ceren looked at a couple places we liked. And this place fits everything we said we wanted.”

After I’d handled the mess with Alice’s father, after Alice and I were almost sucked into a four-part group mind, and after Rose Friedman put a bullet through my heart, the girls and I had agreed that it might be a good idea for us to make a home together. I thought the girls could use some kind of parent, even a nonbinding one. I wasn’t sure what “parental rights” meant anymore anyway. And after a week of all-night teenage parties, Alice and Ceren seemed to find having an adult hanging around the place an annoying relief.

But I couldn’t face going through my—Kevin’s—home and getting rid of Sheila’s and Julie’s belongings to make room for them. Alice’s house had the room, but she wouldn’t go back in after what happened to her dad. I didn’t blame her.

So I crashed in Ceren’s guest room, while the girls slept in Ceren’s room. We kept her parents’ bedroom door closed.

If we were going to form any kind of family, though, we needed a place to make our own. Somewhere with space for the three of us, without any painful memories. Alice and I wanted somewhere downtown, while Ceren insisted that she wanted something on Lake Huron.

“It’s four bedrooms,” I said. “Used to be a summer home. It’s got full solar, a nice big family room, really good insulation. Might be too big, though. Fireplace and a woodpile you won’t believe. Eric says it’s in great shape. And Alice, it’s got the computer plugs you wanted. Everywhere.”

Best of all, the owners had left only a couple changes of clothes. A few paintings, but no photographs. No trophies or mementoes. We wouldn’t have to scour away someone else’s life to build our own.

“Sounds okay,” Alice said.

“Eric says it’s all low-voltage,” I said. “Even the fridge.”

“When can we look?” Ceren said.

“I already told Eric I’ll be late tomorrow,” I said. “Alice, are they expecting you early?”

“I’ll get there when I get there,” she said. “But the water…”

“We’re just looking around,” I said. If it were up to me, I’d put us as far from the lake as I could get. While I was the adult, Alice and Ceren weren’t tied to me. They needed guidance, but I couldn’t play Father Knows Best and swing my weight around. I had to persuade. And part of persuasion is listening to people, even if they end up persuading you instead. “Ceren came along and looked at the places you liked. And maybe this place will work for all of us. It’s right at Lakeshore and Lagrange. Tomorrow, first thing.”

“Sure,” Ceren said, whatever annoyed her forgotten.

Alice looked dejected. “I guess.” Her gaze flicked around the room, hunting. “Hey, Bill just came in.”

“Yeah?” Ceren glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, that Bill.” She turned back to look at the table. “I don’t know what you see in that guy.”

“He’s funny,” Alice said.

“Funny wrong,” Ceren said.

“He’s just shy,” Alice said.

For Alice to call someone shy was practically a professional opinion. I raised my eyes without moving my head, and glimpsed a husky, blond-haired teenage boy just inside the door.

“We should invite him next time we have a party,” Alice said.

“You can have your own party, then,” Ceren said.

“Ceren,” I said, “is there something about this kid I should know?”

“What?” Ceren’s eyebrows bent in puzzlement for half a second, then her eyes went wide and she shook her head. “Oh, geez, no. No, he’s just such a dork. He thinks he’s funny when he’s really just being stupid. He’s, like, the most annoying person in the world.”

“I see.” Teenage Ceren had no idea what annoying really was. “You know—”

Behind me, the second most annoying person in the world said, “Kevin! Glad you’re here tonight!”