Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“I was wondering if I’d ever see you again.” She pushes open the screen door and glances at Stellan. “Who’s the attractive rich man? You finally make a good choice?”
“Mom, this is Stellan Corsetti.”
The name instantly registers. I see it when her eyes widen, and she steps back. She quickly gathers herself. “Nice to meet you, Stellan. I guess my daughter told you all about me.” She holds the door open wider. “Come on in if that’s what you’re here for.”
I follow her inside. Stellan stays close behind. The driver remains outside, smoking a cigarette, glaring around dangerously. I suspect none of the neighbors are going to be nosy today.
The inside of the trailer isn’t as bad as I expected. The couch is old but clean, the table is cluttered but in good shape, and there aren’t any dirty dishes in the sink. A few empty beer bottles linger in a recycling bin. Another open one is sweating beside an armchair where a skinny guy with a blond mustache and a scowl is waiting.
“Stellan, Kira, this is Scotty.” She gestures at him.
Scotty grunts in return. “Didn’t know you were havin’ friends over.”
Mom ignores him and pulls out some chairs. She clears more bottles off the table and pretends like there’s not clearly some kind of pipe in an ashtray. “Take a seat. You two want something? I made soup last night. Got some beer too.”
“You’re feedin’ them now? You better not let them drink up all our good stuff.”
Mom turns to her boyfriend. “Shut the fuck up.”
He glares, but he shuts up.
I sit down. Stellan joins me. “We’re fine,” I say and pat the table lightly. “We just want to talk about something important.”
“Alone.” Stellan looks at Scotty. “If you don’t mind.”
Scotty sits up straight. “Is this motherfucker saying I can’t be in my own damn house?”
“That’s what I’m saying.” Stellan leans toward him. “Go somewhere else.” He takes a small roll of money from his pocket and tosses it over. “Be a good boy and get busy.”
Scotty catches it, flipping through the cash skeptically, but shrugs and stands. “Alright, I ain’t gonna ask no questions then. You lot be good.” He moseys to the door. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
Once he’s gone, Mom sighs and looks at Stellan. “How much did you give him?”
“Three hundred.”
She rubs her face with one hand and stands. “He won’t be back for a week if he even survives. Which means my fix is gone too. God damn you people. What do you want?” She walks into the kitchen, grabs a pack of cigarettes, and lights up.
I struggle to settle my nerves. Stellan gives her boyfriend money and she acts like he did it to hurt her. But that's my mother, always the victim, no matter what nasty shit she does to deserve what she gets. I watch her take a drag and blow out smoke, and I try to remember what she was like the last time I saw her. Not as thin, definitely not smoking. Her hair's got more gray in it now too. More wrinkles line her face.
But it's still Mom. I struggle against the wave of emotion and nostalgia that crashes into me.
“We're here to talk to you about something Dad left behind.”
She waves a hand in the air. “Why would you bring him up? Your father's long gone now.”
“I know what he did, Mom.” She glances at Stellan and quickly takes another drag. My eyes narrow. “I think you do too.”
“That's ancient history. Whatever your father did with his little friends, I'm not a part of it.”
“Mom, please. We're not here to punish you.”
“Of course you're not, since I didn't do anything wrong.” Her nose wrinkles and I note she's not looking at Stellan. “I told your father not to do anything stupid. I told him and he promised he wouldn't, but he was always so soft. I told him we'd work it out.”
Stellan suddenly leans forward. “Bryan was one of the toughest, most competent men I've ever met. You should reconsider the way you speak about him.”
Mom flinches. She takes another drag. “Whatever. He's gone, and I don't have anything else to say about him.”
“There was a jewelry box.” I start to feel a little desperate. I can feel this meeting beginning to slip away. Mom's always like this: avoidant and combative. Anything bad happens, it's never her fault. She couldn't possibly bring it on herself.
“What about it?”
“We found it in the wall in Gem's closet. You hid it in there, didn't you?”
She looks at me for a long moment, glances at Stella, and shrugs. “Your father did.”
“It had something, didn't it?”
“Just junk.”
“Come on, Mom. Why would Dad go to the trouble if all it had was junk? He told you about the key, didn't he?”
Her face pales slightly. She sucks on the cigarette, compulsively puts it out in an empty beer bottle, and lights another. “I don't know what you mean.”