Rock Radio - By Lisa Wainland Page 0,90

both...viciously.”

Dana felt tears slowly fall down her cheeks thinking of a young, scared, helpless boy.

Cody continued. Telling the truth was a needed release. He felt the weight of his darkest secret start to lift. “One night he came home and I put an end to it. I was fifteen and I stood up to him. He left and never came back. To this day I have no idea where he is or what he’s doing and I really don’t care.”

“And your mom?”

“I never resolved my feelings for her. She was angry with me for kicking out her financial support...”

“But he was beating you both...” Dana said incredulously.

“I know...right? A mom is supposed to protect her child. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be?” He blinked back tears. “I don’t know if I can or ever will forgive her for keeping him in our lives as long as she did.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“I keep in touch with her...and she’s proud of me for my success. I think it’s that she’s proud...I mean I hope it’s that and not the fact that now I can send her some money from time to time.”

“I’m sure she loves you,” Dana said finding it hard to comprehend that his mother, that any mother, could feel anything less than love for her son.

“I guess. I just don’t let myself get too close. I can’t, ‘cause then I open myself up to getting hurt by her again. And it’s not pleasant going back to that place...too many awful memories.”

“So then why go back?”

“Because she is my mom...and I have to.”

“I’d go with you if I could.” Dana squeezed his hand.

“You would?”

“Of course, you know I’ll always be there for you.”

Cody wrapped his arms around Dana and held her tightly, afraid to let her go.

“I love you, Dana.”

Dana breathed deeply.

“I love you, too.”

Chapter 62

It was Sunday.

Larry’s heart raced with excitement. Everything was falling into place...he only needed to complete a few final touches.

He surveyed the small room under the stairs and admired his hard work. Lovingly, he fingered the doorframe. The waiting...the planning...it was all coming together now. He gave one last approving glance, removing a stray red thread that had attached itself to the edge of the frame and moved into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he looked over the contents. It was stocked with, among other things, fresh fruit, cheeses and a bottle of wine. In the freezer, he was storing loaves of French bread. Enough romantic movies had taught him the powers of fine wine, cheese and crusty French bread. Larry had spent nearly a week’s salary on the wine alone. The guy at the liquor store assured him that he was purchasing a fine bottle that would appeal to the most discriminating palate.

It had better.

Larry retreated from the kitchen and headed upstairs to the bathroom, taking with him a pair of scissors and several towels. He carefully laid the towels on the floor so the edges all touched and no floor showed through. Then, he picked up the scissors and began shearing away his long curls. Normally so neat and precise, Larry cut into his curls with reckless abandon, eager to shed the persona of a pathetic curly haired man. Within minutes, the towels were covered with piles of locks of hair. Larry took out his electric razor and shaved the remaining hair on his head to an army style crew cut. Like men standing at attention, his little hairs lined up neatly in a row, stiff and straight. His hand ran over the top of his head enjoying the coarse new feeling. It made him wonder why he hadn’t done this long ago.

Methodically, Larry picked up each towel at an angle so the hairs of his past would fall downward to the center. He then pulled each towel away, leaving a small pile of his former self. A quick sweep and the old Larry was gone, deposited in the trash for good.

Larry moved into his bedroom and removed his neatly pressed outfit, checking it again for any flaws. He laid it on the bed as a seal of approval, then sat down next to it and eyed the clock. There were still hours to go. His morning tasks took far less time than he anticipated. He was disappointed.

The waiting made him very jumpy.

This was going to be a big day...a big week...a big rest of his life. He had tried to take more vacation time at work, but with all his absences