The Battered Heiress Blues - By Laurie Van Dermark Page 0,20

I was too hung over to play word association.

“Not the rock band, genius; the lying, cheating, traitor that should be hung from the nearest tree kind of Judas.”

The edgy New Yorker rose up within me. I had a gut feeling who was behind the damn door.

“No way. He wouldn’t be that foolish, right? Jackson is here? -At my house? -On my property?” I dismissed the assumption and shook my head in disbelief.

“Yes he would- he’s Jackson.”

I started to walk towards her with an agenda. “Step aside.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

I turned and walked back into the drawing room and took the shotgun from above the fireplace. Kate followed me, managing to keep her body between me and the door.

“What are you doing? Let’s just think about this for a minute,” she implored.

“Step aside, Kate.”

As we found ourselves in a stare off, Jackson’s voice broke the tension.

“I know you’re in there. I can hear you. I’ve called the police. I just want my car.”

Kate was pissed. Her plea to behave civilized was null and void. “No he did not just say that- after everything that’s transpired.”

She spun around and charged the door herself, violently pulling it back, sending it crashing into the foyer wall. Scared, Jackson cowardly shuffled back until he fell off the veranda. Kate continued her forward attack to the edge of the porch.

Hesitantly, I walked to the door, catching the first glimpse of him in ten months. I thought I’d be sad, but I only felt relieved that he was now my ex-husband. He looked like the same old loser, wearing his ridiculous banana yellow windbreaker.

In the moment, I couldn’t recall why I ever had married him. Average looking, he was too short and scrawny for my usual taste. He had no muscles and was devoid of a butt and proper calves. I never could figure out how he kept his socks up. His graying hair was like wire which matched the patches poking out from inside his ears. His tobacco stained front teeth were pushed together. When he ate, he resembled a rabbit gnawing food. The clothes he wore were always mismatched and rumpled. He was the polar opposite of Henry. Perhaps, that’s why I chose him. My heart would never be stolen away by someone like Jackson.

Looking at him now, I was actually repulsed. I didn’t care that my criticisms seemed hypocritical, considering my current choice of wardrobe. I had potential when I tried really hard and no matter what, he would always be a mean prick with no style. I was a good person. I had that going for me. I wasn’t condescending in my interactions with people. I treated strangers with kindness and respect. He was always frigid and hostile. Bring him the wrong order or question him and he’d make you feel like the most insignificant person in the room. He was never wrong. He was never accountable. He was the world’s most dedicated narcissist and I was done.

“Why are you here?”

“For the car, Julia- I just want my car and I’ll leave.”

“But our son...Why didn’t you come…he’s buried behind the chapel.” My eyes began to water, but I wouldn’t cry in front of him.

Kate jumped off the veranda, stopping within a foot of him. He gave his typical sour smirk to let us know that he wasn’t afraid of two weak little girls.

“You’re here for a car. Seriously? Your son was buried this week, you wanker. Where in the hell were you? What could possibly be more bloody important than that? A car? There’s no hope for you. You’ll always be a self-absorbed bastard with no heart.” She threw her arms up in the air, moved five feet away from him, and looked back to cheer me on. “Shoot him.”

The shotgun rested across my body, finding a home on my right shoulder. Jackson looked at me puzzled and decided that laughing was a good emotion- bad choice.

“Get off my property.”

Kate disappeared into the house returning with a golf club. Jackson still maintained his annoying grin

“Look, I don’t want trouble from you scary women.” He was mocking us now, waving his arms back and forth above his head. “Really Julia, are you gonna shoot me? You don’t have it in you.”

“Care to test that theory?” I pointed the gun above his head and pulled the trigger. He cowered, momentarily, shielding his face, but regained his composure and stood erect.

“Jewels, you missed. Try again,” Kate announced with a dedicated look on