was who had fathered him.
By all accounts, Mama hadn’t told anyone, and they hadn’t even known she was dating, let alone pregnant until she was big as a stuffed turkey, going on nine months. She’d kept that secret, and undoubtedly many more, but he had managed to get a name out of her at last. She’d looked him in his eyes one day, smiled, and said it in a whisper. And now, here, the time had come. She was speechless, probably for life. She could shed no further light, like that setting sun caressing her flesh and hair before disappearing behind the cape of the moon. She could offer no insight, help him in his time of need.
The dead told no lies.
They gave no interviews. They solved no mysteries. God took Mama’s tongue. My father is speechless by default. Death stole his voice just like death has stolen my damn choice.
He couldn’t ignore this situation – the will, the aftermath, a woman in a bookstore who looked at him like he was the worst piece of shit in the world… yet still showed him compassion, in spite of it all. Perhaps Lauren knew more than she let on. Hell, maybe she’d been expecting him all along and that softened the blow. She was a sight to see, smelling like some of the best days of his life.
Grandma told me she didn’t know my father, either, but she always claimed he was missing out. She told me to not worry about it, not to fret. She said God is my father. I appreciated that, and it worked on my young brain for a fraction of a second… but I needed someone to blame. I couldn’t blame God because God didn’t do this…
God didn’t bail on his newborn son. God didn’t screw my mother and impregnate her, then run off and act like she didn’t exist. God didn’t know of my existence and turn His back on me. Not a card. Not a call. Not even a ‘Fuck you.’ I’m not hurt about that. I put that disappointment away a long time ago. Shit happens. Life goes on. But I’m upset about the right here and now. How he is dead and still torturing me, still failing to explain himself!
As he drove, he took deep, slow breaths, trying to pull himself together before Aiden returned home. The anger and twisted emotions flowed through him like lava, tensing up his muscles.
This motherfucker left me some money, but wants me to take care of his tenant agreements first. Has me running all over town. He had business dealings that need to be wrapped up, shit like that. He wants me to be his secretary as he lies in a casket, cold-blooded in death as he was in life. There’s some funny business in the paperwork about some letter I need to find, too. So now, he wants me to be a detective, too. And here I am, doing it, all so I can take the money and run, and forget about him once and for all. Mama might not be talking, and that’ll simply have to do. Grandma, God rest her soul, can’t hug me and tell me it’ll be all right. Besides, it’s not going to be all right. I have to make this right on my own.
Benjamin… I’m going to find out who you were in life.
I’m going to find out why you left my mother and why you created a child and just walked out on me like I wasn’t worth shit. You don’t get to throw money my way now and think that’ll be just fine and dandy. There isn’t enough money in the whole damn world to undo the damage you did to my Mama. You were sitting on riches while we lived in squalor. You’re going to pay, but not with just money! I am going to get to the bottom of this. Even in death, I am going to keep on digging like I’m trying to dig your grave up outta that fucking soil… And I’m going to find out your deepest, darkest secrets and expose you. I’m about to set your entire life on fire, the façade that you presented to the world, so that finally, some light will be shed.
That is my word, and I never break my word.
That’s my promise, you son of a bitch…
CHAPTER FIVE
I Hate to Eat and Run…
Why did I say yes to coming here? I imagine it’s because a part