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* * *
Dinner was ready again at a quarter to seven, and Haven kept it warm as she folded Dominic’s clothes. The front door opened while she was in the laundry room, and she stepped out to greet Dr. DeMarco.
Was she supposed to? She wasn’t sure.
“Smells terrific in here,” he said.
“Thank you, sir. The food’s ready.”
“Great. Carmine should be home from football practice in a few minutes.”
Her pulse quickened at the mention of Carmine. She hadn’t seen him since their awkward encounter in the library, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to see him so soon again.
She set the table, placing the food in the center for them to serve themselves, before grabbing Dominic’s hamper and heading upstairs. She made it to the second floor when the front door swung open, Carmine’s voice hitting her instantly. “Cazzo, what smells so good?”
She smiled to herself and resumed walking, placing Dominic’s clothes outside his bedroom door before shutting herself away to hide.
* * *
The next evening, Dr. DeMarco arrived home as Haven was looking for something to make for dinner. “I forgot to tell you. You have the night off.”
She closed the pantry door. “Okay.”
“It’s Friday, so the boys will be at the football game, and I’ll be gone this weekend on business.”
Confusion set in. He was leaving? “Are you sure you don’t want me to make you something before you go?”
“Positive.” He reached out, and she flinched, but it didn’t discourage him from grasping her shoulder. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”
She followed him into the family room, where he picked up a cordless telephone. “I had a phone installed in case you need anything when I’m away. Speed dial number one goes directly to my cell phone. If I don’t answer and it’s an emergency, speed dial number two is Dominic.”
“Is Carmine number three?” The words flew from her mouth before she had enough sense to restrain them.
“Yes, but any trouble you encounter won’t be as bad as the trouble that follows my youngest. So if you need anything, call the first two.”
“Okay.” She stared at the phone. “How do I do that?”
Sighing, Dr. DeMarco gave some quick instructions on how to place a call. A flurry of thoughts hit her as she listened, but Dr. DeMarco cut them off. “I’ll know any time it’s used, so don’t get any bright ideas like calling 911.”
Her brow furrowed. “Who’s 911?”
He stared at her as if he thought she might be joking. “Let’s just say calling 911 is the last thing you want to do, child.”
Dr. DeMarco left, and those words ran through Haven’s mind as she wandered the empty house. She ended up in the family room after a while, standing in front of the white telephone again.
Picking it up, she turned it on like Dr. DeMarco had shown her. She hit the 9 button before pressing the number 1, her finger hovering over the 1 again. She stood there, her heart pounding rapidly, before pressing the button to turn off the phone.
She did it three more times before placing the phone into its cradle and leaving the room, too frightened to press the last number.
* * *
The sun was setting when Haven ended up in the library. She came across some paper and swiped a few pieces, finding a pencil before eagerly running to her room. She lay down in bed and sketched, her mama’s face emerging on the paper. With no pictures, Haven was desperately afraid she would forget what her mama looked like, afraid her memory would fade with time.
Drawing came naturally to Haven. When she was little, around the age of seven, her first mistress, Monica, gave her paper and crayons. It was the first time she’d given her anything, and it turned out to be the last, but Haven cherished the gift until the last shred of crayon disappeared.
As she grew older, she’d sneak supplies from the ranch house, but afterward destroyed all evidence so no one would find out. She usually folded the sketches and stuck them in her pocket, burying the papers the first chance she got.
Haven lost track of time as she immersed herself in the drawing of her mama, and it was nearing midnight when the sound of music captured her attention. It was earlier than the other nights. Curious, she set the drawing aside and crept to the door to peek out.
