Serpent’s Tooth. Faye Kellerman

      “How about one?”

      “He’s right, you know!” Cindy flopped into one of the buckskin chairs and dried her eyes. “I’ve got an incredibly big mouth. Things just … slip out!”

      Rina said nothing.

      Cindy looked at Rina. “So he told you?”

      Rina nodded.

      “He must feel real close to you.”

      Rina stifled a smile. “Guess so.”

      “It’s not as idiotic as it sounds. Dad never ever talked about it. And it didn’t come up in any of the divorce proceedings. Even during their worst arguments, Dad never brought it up or threw it in Mom’s face. There were times I actually wondered if he even knew. But then I figured how could he not know. Mom wasn’t exactly subtle … all those hang-ups every time I picked up the phone.”

      Rina nodded.

      “It wasn’t all Mom’s fault, you know. He was never home. Even when he was home, he wasn’t home. He was a decent father. Did the right things. Showed up at all the school events and conferences. But there was this distance. He was dreadfully unhappy. So was Mom. They had to get married, you know. Because of me.”

      “They both love you very much.”

      “I know that. They dragged it out as long as they could. Though I never asked them to do that. They’re so different. You know how they met?”

      Rina nodded. “Your dad arrested your mother.”

      “Some stupid antiwar rally. The pregnancy meant Mom had to drop out of college. At twenty, she was stuck at home with a whining baby and no help at all, while all her friends were out partying. I don’t know why she didn’t get an abortion.”

      The room was quiet.

      “Actually, I do know why. Dad wouldn’t have let her. Anyway, I know she was very resentful. To this day, she still talks about her lost youth.”

      “Your mom and Alan have made a nice life for themselves. I think you’re feeling worse about it than either of your parents.”

      “I suppose.” She sighed. “Dad seems happy now … happier.”

      Rina smiled. “Yes, your father isn’t exactly a jolly fellow.”

      Cindy smiled.

      “You comported yourself very well,” Rina said.

      “Yeah, felons should be a snap in comparison.” She paused. “You heard us then? We were screaming that loud?”

      “It’s a small house.”

      “God, I have a headache.”

      “I’ll get you the Advil.”

      “Thanks.”

      Rina left, came back a few moments later. “Did you tell your mother yet?”

      “No. Believe it or not, Dad’s the lesser of the two evils. Mom will not only go hysterical—just like Dad—but she’ll start blaming Dad. I hate it when she does that. Those two are incredible. They really hate each other.”

      “I’m sure they don’t.”

      “Oh, I’m sure they do.”

      Rina said, “What made you decide to join the Academy?”

      “Oh, my goodness, someone really wants to hear my side of the equation.”

      Rina nodded encouragement.

      Cindy cleared her throat. “I thought I wanted to study criminal behavior. I found that what I really wanted to do was solve crimes. Analyzing the deviant mind is useful, but it’s too academic. It doesn’t make neighborhoods safer places to live. It doesn’t give victims a sense of justice. It doesn’t do anything to enhance the quality of life. Criminal Sciences is about publishing papers, not about community service. And that’s what I want to do. Use the knowledge I’ve learned and apply it. To help people. Pretty corny. But as I speak, it is the truth.”

      “I think that’s wonderful.”

      “In theory, yes. Unfortunately, Dad has a point. I am impulsive, I am emotional, and I don’t take orders well.”

      She leaned forward.

      “But I’m also very adaptable. Had to be to get along with my parents. I can learn, Rina. Because I really want to do this. I’ll make it. I’d like his help and blessing. But if not, I’ll make it anyway. If he can’t deal with it, too bad.”

      She sat back.

      “I love my father, but there are times he is just impossible. So domineering! So bossy! How do you deal with him?”

      “He’s a good man.”

      “I didn’t say he wasn’t. I just said he was a control freak. You know, I’m not excusing Mom. But my dad is just … such an imposing man. I guess she felt just so … swallowed up. I don’t know how you put up with him.”

      Rina shrugged. “I’m not much of a fighter.”

      “I wish I were like that. I just refuse to be stepped on.”

      “I didn’t say I get stepped on.”

      Cindy blushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean … God, I’ve got a big mouth. I guess I’m more like Mom than I’d like to believe.”

      “I do express myself, Cindy. I’ll stick up for what’s important. Which I’ve learned isn’t too much. This baby boomer generation on down … all of us … we’ve become so … confrontive. Stand up for yourself! Speak your mind! Tell it like it is! All this righteous anger … I find it very loud.”

      “Better that than being walked on.”

      “No one wants to be a shmatta … a dishrag. But sometimes it’s a good idea to keep your mouth shut. Think if it’s worth the effort. And yes, I freely admit to being occasionally two-faced. There have been times when I had agreed with your dad to do things his way, then turned around and did it the way I wanted. Most of the time, he forgot what he had been so insistent on. And the couple of times he was cogent enough to call me on it, I played dumb. I’m sure some psychologist would call me sneaky or tell me I have low self-esteem. Or tell me I was paralyzed by my domineering mother and an unapproachable father or something or other. I call it being practical. Because in the end, I get what I want and he saves face.”

      “I don’t think Gloria Steinem would approve of your methods.”

      “Oh, forget about Gloria Steinem! She never nursed a husband through cancer, only to watch him die. She never labored in childbirth. She was never a widow with two small children. She’s never been married to a police lieutenant. She never had a hysterectomy at thirty. And she’s not an Orthodox Jew. So she has no concept of shalom bais—peace in the house. Which, in my humble opinion, is to her detriment!”

      Cindy looked at her. “You’re tough.”

      “Tough enough to handle your dad.” Rina sat down next to Cindy. “And so are you.” She gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You’ll work this out. You’ll be okay.”

      “If I ever learn to keep my mouth shut.”

      “Cindy, youth is impulsive, thank God. Like you said, it was the reason you were conceived. It’s what made me run off and get married at seventeen, then go have a baby a year later, then have yet another before my first son was out of diapers. It’s what made me enter into a heartbreaking relationship after my husband died, knowing it was doomed from the start. And it’s what made me ignore raised eyebrows in my community when I started dating your father. Within days of meeting him, I was head over heels in love. Impulsive yes. But it worked out.”

      Cindy