Chapter Twenty-Eight
When it was clear that Ben wasn’t going to make it that night, Karen insisted on a last-night-with-the-girls drink.
They opened the bottle of wine Ben had gifted to Luna and drank it with a meal thrown together with leftovers and a salad.
Luna and Miley had planned on date night with the Hallmark Channel . . . but that would wait another day.
“I know you want me gone,” Karen pointed out.
“No one in their thirties wants to live with their mother. It’s not just you,” Luna said, doing her level best to avoid anything controversial.
“I guess when you put it like that it doesn’t sound so bad,” she said.
“My mother would drive me nuts if she came for a month,” Miley told her.
“I don’t think I ever met your mother,” Karen said.
“You haven’t.”
“Is she a difficult woman?”
Miley shook her head. “We have different views of life. She’s quick to tell me hers are all right and mine are all wrong.”
Karen tapped Luna’s forearm. “See, it’s not just me.”
Before Luna could comment, Miley diverted. “I’m just saying that there is a reason adult children shouldn’t live with their parents.”
“A visit isn’t the same,” Karen said.
Luna held the stem of her wineglass and looked up at her mother. “That’s true, Mom. And when the visit is expected, it’s a lot easier to prepare. Please don’t take this the wrong way . . .”
Her mother turned her full attention to Luna.
“The next time you come to visit, let’s make sure it’s good for all of us.”
“You know I didn’t plan this.”
“I know,” Luna said. “But at some point on the bus coming over, you could have called.”
Karen sighed. “You’re right.”
Luna waited for the but.
It didn’t come.
She let her point go and finished the rest of her wine.
Miley yawned and pushed her empty glass aside.
“I’m keeping you up,” Karen declared.
“It was a busy day. Two traumas, one heart attack, and a whole bunch of stupid crap.” Miley pushed her chair back.
Karen poured more wine into her glass and then acted like she was going to put more into Luna’s.
She waved her mother off. “I’m good.”
“My bags are all ready to go. If Ben gets here before you’re out of bed, I’ll just sneak out.”
Miley opened her arms.
Karen leaned over and hugged her. “Thank you for everything.”
“Safe travels. Let us know when you get there,” Miley added.
“I will.”
Luna took her glass along with Miley’s over to the sink and set them to the side.
“I need to get some sleep, too, Mom.” They’d done the long “last night” thing the evening before.
Karen shoved to her feet and once again opened her arms. Luna stepped into the hug and closed her eyes.
“I do love you, Luna.”
“I know.” As much as she could anyway. “I love you, too.”
Her mother patted her back a few times before pulling away. “I’ll clean this up before I go to bed.”
“Thank you,” Luna said.
“And I’ll let you know that I got home safe.”
Luna wasn’t convinced that she wouldn’t wake up if she heard her mother leaving, so she left her goodbye for later.
“Good night,” she said instead.
“Good night, baby.”
As Luna took the stairs to her room, Midnight following from behind, she couldn’t help but think that if every night that her mother had been there was like this one, it would be so much easier to deal with her.
Luna left the door to her room open a crack so she could say goodbye in the morning.
She fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
She was running, holding her breath and knew if she just concentrated hard enough gravity would defy itself and Luna would take flight. She had to prove the power was in her. Everyone was watching, whispering behind their open hands hiding their sinister smiles.
Every muscle in her body ached. Why was this taking so much effort? She’d flown hours before, she knew it. The knowledge of how to do it again was right there . . . just out of reach.
I can do this.
Why can’t I do this?
Dreaming. I’m dreaming. But that doesn’t mean I can’t fly.
Luna felt the edges of sleep tugging her deeper into the dream.
Am I awake?
It felt like she was awake.
Miley was calling her name. “Show them you can fly.”
I can’t.
Show them!
Luna erupted from her dream, muscles aching, heart racing.
“Luna!”
Miley stood at the foot of her bed, a bathrobe covered her frame, the belt tight around her waist.
It was still dark.
Her gaze drifted to the clock at the side of her bed.
Just after midnight.
“What?”
Miley looked over her shoulder. “You can’t hear that?”
Luna ran her hand over her face to push the fog away.
Voices.
The muffled sound of her mother.
And a man saying, “Am I being too loud?”
Luna tossed back the covers; the cool air of the room circled around her. “Who is that?”
“Ben.”
Luna checked her clock again. “It’s after midnight. What the fuck. How long has he been here?”
“No idea. They sound drunk, though.”
She grabbed her bathrobe that had been tossed over the chair in the room and shoved into it.
She and Miley both paused when the voices stopped.
Hoarse, angry whispers . . . that’s all they heard. Whatever was being said wasn’t pleasant.
“It was too much to ask that Karen leave quietly,” Luna said under her breath.
She looked around for her slippers but gave up once she heard Ben’s voice carry up the stairs.
Miley followed Luna.
Midnight stood on the stair landing, hair up . . . but didn’t look as if she was going to get any closer to the middle-of-the-night chaos.
The closer their feet brought them to the kitchen, the louder the voices grew.
The vibration of an angry man’s voice had Luna’s legs faltering.
Luna stopped Miley in the hall. “Hang back just enough so you can call the police if he gets ugly.”
“You’re serious?”
Luna nodded once. “I’m going to tell them to leave.” As calmly as she possibly could.
Her arms trembled; her brain told her to stop. You’ve been here before, you fucking idiot. When will you ever learn?
Luna silenced the voice in her head and stepped into the kitchen.
The island had a second bottle of wine on it, and the nearly empty handle of vodka that her mother had bought earlier in the week. Beside that was the fallout of what looked like a bag filled with hamburgers and french fries versus a mass of teenage boys all competing for the burger with bacon.
“What’s going on?” Luna asked, announcing herself.
Ben turned around, exposing her mother.
Her mascara was nothing but black patches under glossy eyes. That half-hooded kind that said she was beyond hammered.
But Karen wasn’t who Luna focused on.
It was Ben.
Red faced, eyes half mast. His clothes were dirty like he’d just come off a field where he’d been standing behind a tractor collecting the dust it kicked up. There was very little of the man Luna had met a few days before. No kind smile or platitude. No humility or respect.
This man she’d seen before on every face her mother brought home.
This man was unpredictable and likely empowered by alcohol.
“I told you . . . you were going to wake ’em up,” Karen shouted at Ben.
“Shut up!” he sneered.
Luna jolted.
“I’m sorry—” Karen started.
Ben took hold of her mother’s elbow and Karen stopped talking.
“We were having ourselves a little party.” Ben licked his lips, stumbled forward a couple of steps. “You should join us.”
Bile rose in Luna’s throat.
Her eyes drifted to Miley.
Luna moved to keep the island between them. “We were trying to sleep.”
Ben opened his arms wide, letting Karen go. A crooked smile spread over his face. “What are two young girls like you goin’ to bed so early for?” Alcohol brought his Southern accent closer to the surface. He reached for the bottle of vodka. “Let me get you—”
Karen reached out. “They don’t want a drink.”
Ben slapped her mother’s arm away. “Was I talking to you?”
“This isn’t how we live in this house, Ben. Miley and I both have early mornings. I won’t tolerate midnight parties.”
Ben’s robust laugh echoed in the kitchen and likely to the foundation of the house itself. “Well, la-te-da. Aren’t you full of yourself.”
Luna was a hundred percent angry, and fifty percent scared out of her mind.
Miley shifted back in the hall and out of sight. Call the police, Luna screamed silently. This wasn’t going to end well.
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Luna cursed the wave in her own voice.
Karen’s eyes grew wide. “We’ll be quiet. You guys go back to bed.”
Ben snagged the bottle off the counter and splashed a heavy shot in a glass. “Speak for yourself. I don’t have to be quiet. This is your house as much as it’s hers,” Ben said to her mother.
Anytime Ben took a step closer, Luna took one in the opposite direction. “This is my house. And you’re not welcome.”
Ben leaned on the island, shook his head. “Now is that any way to respect your mama’s visitor.”
Luna stopped looking at Ben and stared at her mother. “Mom, you both need to go. Now.”
Karen stared at her as if she were crazy. “Neither of us can drive. We’ll sleep it off and—”
Luna clenched her fists at her sides.
“We ain’t fucking leavin’,” Ben yelled again. “You got mail coming here with your name on it. You don’t have to leave. I told Karen weeks ago to change her address. Your mama’s dumb, but she knows enough to listen to me. Squatters have rights.”
Luna stared at her mother. “Seriously?”
“Just a phone bill. I’m not staying.”
“This house is worth twenty times what that shack in Alabama is. We ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Her mother stepped closer to Ben. “Let’s just go to bed, Cody.”
“I’m. Not. Tired.”
Luna stalled. “Cody?” she repeated.
“Benjamin Cody,” he sang into his glass before tossing it back with a shout.
“Alabama Cody?” Luna asked her mom. The one she fled Alabama from, Cody?
Karen attempted to blink the fog from her eyes. “It’s not what you think.”
As always, her mother’s chronic deceitful nature astounded her. “I’ll call you an Uber,” Luna said.
Cody laughed. “Is she stupid? I thought you said she was a bitch, but she was smart.”
Luna ignored the pain his words were meant to inflict and searched for an out. One that would remove her from the kitchen and away from the garbage that was standing in her way.
By now Luna was between the island and the kitchen sink. Her mother on one side, Ben . . . no, Cody on the other.
Cody had inched his way to Luna’s exit to the rest of the house.
Miley wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
The police.
Luna needed to get out of the kitchen and wait for the police.
When the phone wakes you up in the middle of the night, it was never for anything good.
Nate dragged the phone to his ear without looking at the screen. “What’s wrong?”
“Get over to Luna’s.” Ash’s words rushed together, his voice a mix between frantic and worried.
Nate sat straight up. “What’s going on?”
“Mom brought a man over. They’re drunk, refusing to leave. She’s scared, Nate. Nothing scares Miley.”
Nate’s feet hit the floor, and he started grabbing clothes and hopped into them. “Is someone hurt?”
“I don’t know. Fuck. I should have listened to Luna.”
My gun . . . where is my gun?
Nate’s gaze fell on his dresser.
He grabbed his gun, his car keys, and a coat as he ran out the door.
“Were the police called?”
“Miley called me first. She thought I could talk to my mom. Whoever is there is yelling loud enough to wake the neighbors. By now Miley should have called 911.”
“How fast does Seattle respond to domestic disputes?” Nate asked.
“Not fast enough . . . fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Nate thought of the shotgun that was under Luna’s bed. He couldn’t imagine the fighting was going on in her bedroom. “Does he have a gun?” Nate asked.
“He’s a truck driver. How many truck drivers carry guns?” Ash asked.
“A lot,” Nate declared. Truck stops where long-haul drivers slept weren’t filled with the best of humankind.
“Hurry.”
The apartment door slammed behind Nate as he ran down the hall. “I’m on my way.”