Breaking Her Bad by Michelle Mankin

 

 

 

 

 

Claire

Amazed at the turn of events, I watched Kyle type in the code to disable Footit’s alarm system, then reenable it once we were inside. Taking my hand, he confidently led me through the interior of the bar as though it were his aunt’s business.

“You seem familiar with the layout of Footit’s,” I said.

Kyle nodded. “We’ve been staying here a couple of weeks, and I’ve been inside it a few times over the years. Addy cards everyone. I can’t get alcohol, but she opens the bar to teenagers on band nights. We just have to wear paper wristbands that allow us to hear the music but prevent us from getting drinks.”

Huh. Kyle had been in Footit’s more than me. For some reason, my mom didn’t seem to like me being in the bar. Maybe she was afraid I would be tempted to drink.

My phone pinged in my pocket, and I slid it out with my free hand. Looking at the screen, I frowned. It was like my mom could sense me thinking about her. She was off her shift and had found my note. I was in deep trouble, but I set that on the back burner for later.

Kyle knocked on the last door at the end of the hall. “Hey, Uncle Bob, it’s me. Can you let me in?”

The door popped open.

“I saw you on the monitor.” His tongue protruding slightly, Bob gave me a curious look before his gaze landed on my friend. “Hi, Missy.”

“Hi, Bob,” she said. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” He nodded, and I noted that Kyle’s uncle didn’t resemble Kyle, except that they had the same eye color.

Bob’s hair was brown, not black, and shorn to his scalp. He was dressed for bed in a loose T-shirt with pajama bottoms.

Noticing he had Down syndrome, I realized why it had taken Martin’s intervention to keep Kyle out of foster care. The legal system wouldn’t have allowed the situation otherwise. It wasn’t Kyle’s uncle who was the guardian, it was Kyle, and if I did the math right, he’d been taking care of himself and his uncle since he was ten years old. I couldn’t even imagine it.

No wonder Kyle seemed more man than boy. He was more a man, and had been one for a long time. Gentle, caring, and much stronger than I’d previously imagined.

“Hi, Bob.” Finding my voice, I waved in greeting and stepped forward. “I’m Claire.”

“Claire Walsh.” Bob took my hand and shook it enthusiastically while glancing at Kyle.

“How do you know who Claire is?” Kyle asked, his gaze narrowing on his uncle.

Bob shrugged. “You called out her name in your sleep when your leg was broken.”

My eyes rounded. Had Kyle missed me as much as I’d missed him?

“I’ve seen her picture on Addy’s phone,” Bob said. “Addy and her sister, Rachel, talk about Claire a lot. She lost her dad, Kyle. They worry because she’s sad.”

“Oh.” Kyle’s brows lifted. “Did you mention to them that I know Claire?”

“No.” He shook his head, and his misshapen ears twitched. “I’m too busy to talk much while I work. Was I supposed to tell them you know Claire?”

“No.” Kyle stepped closer to his uncle. “It’s okay. No worries.”

Much taller than Bob, Kyle enveloped his uncle in his arms and rested his chin on Bob’s head, his expression soft. Bob’s twitching ears stilled. It wasn’t only my uneasiness that Kyle’s hugs cured.

Bob peeked at me. “She’s pretty.” Patting Kyle’s back, he emitted a low approving hum.

There was obvious affection between them, and my heart didn’t hurt quite as badly for Kyle knowing he had that.

“I know, right?” Straightening, Kyle opened his arm and beckoned me. I came, and he brought me closer. “Claire is also sweet, smart, and talented. And I wanted her to meet you.”

“Come on inside.” Taking a few steps back, Bob gestured to the room. It contained a kitchenette, a couch, and two twin beds—one with a laptop on it, and the other with blankets folded on the end. There was also a desk with a large split-screen monitor that showed interior and exterior views of the bar.

“This is a cool space,” I said, and Bob beamed. “I knew there were dressing rooms back here, but I didn’t realize there was an efficiency apartment too.”

“Addy lived here when the bar was being built,” Bob said.

“Ah, that makes sense.” I nodded reflectively. Addy would have been homeless otherwise. My mom would have been too at that time if not for my dad. I wondered yet again where my aunt had come up with the money to build the bar.

While I wondered, Missy took a seat on one end of the couch. Moving to the opposite end, Kyle stopped and gestured to the vacant spot, and I started toward him without hesitation. Where he was, I wanted to be, but I heard a bird call that intrigued me.

Tilting my head, I shifted in the direction of the sound. “That’s a cardinal’s call.”

Bob nodded excitedly. “Yes. I’m watching a show on songbirds.” He gestured to the laptop. “Would you like to watch it with me?”

“I’d love to.” Following him, I sat beside him on the bed.

“I like birds,” Bob said, and I recalled Kyle telling me about his relative that did.

“Me too.”

He smiled widely without reservation. My heart filled with warmth as he thoughtfully turned the laptop around so I could watch the show too. I quickly became absorbed in the documentary, only vaguely noting Kyle and Missy speaking quietly together on the couch.

“What’s your favorite bird?” I asked Bob.

“I like raptors,” he said, and I nodded.

“Those are cool. Majestic. Fierce.”

Bob slid a glance at his nephew. “Kyle reminds me of a barred owl.”

I glanced over at Kyle, and he gave me a hot, hungry look back. I shivered, feeling like prey. Prey that wanted to be eaten.

“I can see that,” I said, my voice husky.

“Not because he looks like one.” Bob guffawed and slapped his leg. “It’s because Kyle can see really well at night like most raptors do.”

“My dad liked raptors too.”

Bob reached for and squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry he’s gone.”

Tears brimmed, but I didn’t feel so cold inside like I usually did when I thought about my dad. I didn’t feel so alone anymore, I realized. With Kyle, Missy, Tommy, Chad, and Bob in my life, I wasn’t so alone anymore.

“I am too.” I squeezed Bob’s hand back and released it. “I wish you could have met him.”

“What’s your favorite bird?” he asked me.

“I like sparrows best.” I rubbed the charm on my bracelet. “My dad used to say I fluttered like one when I was little. I’m active like they are, and I hum when I’m happy.”

I hummed to demonstrate, and Bob smiled widely again. Sharing with Bob about my dad made me feel lighter, like it took some of the heavier sadness away. I caught Kyle watching us. His gray eyes were warm. Missy’s were a melty blue.

“I hum too,” Bob said. “We have a lot in common. We both care about Kyle too.” He gestured to his nephew. “That’s a big one.”

“You’re right. It is a big one.” I looked at Kyle, knowing I was falling for him, a process that had begun in my treehouse. It had been interrupted by circumstances, terrible ones. But the feelings remained, though they’d been latent for a while.

“Your nephew is gentle and kind,” I said for Bob’s benefit while looking at Kyle. “He’s a real-life hero for the people he cares about. Knowing Kyle, it’s impossible not to care about him.”