did not condone it.
But what Mom had done was messed up too.
It sucked he was a cheater, because there was a lot to like about him.
He was nice. He could be funny. He was responsible in the sense he’d been gainfully employed the whole time I’d known him with the goal of working toward a decent retirement. He treated his own kids from his first marriage great and seemed at his best when his mingled family was together. He got irritated when I did stuff for myself that required tools, and that wasn’t an “I’m a man” thing; that was an “I’m your stepdad and your real dad is a waste of space so better late than never you having someone who gives a shit” thing.
And he thought my sister was wasting her life and someone should shake some sense into my brother.
“Is Mom home?” I asked, moving in when he moved out of the way.
“She’s still sleeping. I was about to jump into the shower. I’ll wake her up in a sec,” he said, closing the door behind me. “Now, answer me, sweetheart. Are you okay?”
I looked right into his eyes and stated, “Mick’s got some trouble.”
His face morphed right to pissed and he bit out, “That fuckin’ guy.” He got a lock on it and said, “Hang tight. I’ll get your ma.”
I hung as tight as I could when I felt like I was going to fly apart.
I also realized I hadn’t made myself coffee, or stopped for one, which, after a night with no sleep, was a mistake.
It took some time, but Mom eventually came out with her mass of dyed-blonde hair falling in attractive, messy waves around her face and shoulders, and she was wearing a long, satin, sexy nightgown the likes she’d worn to bed her whole life.
They were also the likes no kid ever wanted to see her mom in, no matter that kid was now twenty-seven years of age.
“Jesus, Evie, it’s barely seven” was her greeting.
Most of the adult population was awake and getting ready for work at “barely seven.”
I didn’t get into that.
I was about to launch in when she continued.
“And for God’s sakes, I keep telling you,” she jerked her head impatiently at my body, “you’re never gonna find a man dressing like that.”
I shut my mouth and stood immobile, staring at her.
She crossed her arms on her chest and prompted, “Well?” This before she looked to Rob and informed him, “Baby, I need coffee.”
Rob was not pleased about this thinly veiled order to serve her and he communicated that by asking, “Carol, are you lookin’ at your daughter?”
She gave him narrowed eyes. “Yeah.”
“Your son was arrested again two days ago,” he went on.
Mom turned to me. “Is this about Mick?”
“Of course it’s about Mick. It’s always about Mick,” Rob answered for me.
“I don’t under—” Mom began.
But Rob threw a long arm out my way, finger pointed, and he exploded, “You don’t understand? She didn’t make that boy!”
Mom turned fully to Rob and shouted back, “Don’t shout at me!”
“Jesus Christ, you’re a piece of work,” he clipped.
“Fuck you, Rob. You wanna talk about a piece of work? I bet that brunette you’re boning is a piece of fucking work,” Mom shot back.
“Oh no, your girl is not showin’ at our door first thing in the morning looking freaked right the fuck out and you use whatever you can grab hold of to continue to shirk responsibility for that fuckwit son you raised,” he retorted.
“Do not talk about Mick that way!” Mom yelled.
Rob turned to me.
“Why are you here, sweetheart?” he asked.
“I—” I started.
“Listen, Evie, Mick’s a big boy and he’s made his own decisions for a long time,” Mom cut me off to say. “They’re not on me.”
“And they’re not on Evie either,” Rob declared.
She rounded on him and snapped, “This is family business, Rob,” making me wince because those words were regrettably familiar.
“You don’t got my ring on your finger?” Rob asked.
“It isn’t worth dick,” Mom fired back.
Rob assumed an expression like she’d slapped him then opened his mouth.
“Stop it!” I shrieked, and they both turned to me.
Mom looked infuriated, and not just at Rob, at me.
If someone was going to be shrieking, she liked it to be her.
Rob looked even more concerned, mostly because I was a crier, not a shrieker, and he’d been around for five years, so he knew that.
Mom tried to assume a Mom Tone.
“Calm down, Evan.”
No way I could calm down.
I was in a mess