Chapter 57
MALLORY
“You could’ve just given me the money. Saved both of us some time,” Cheryl said, her words laced with attitude. She was in the passenger seat, arms crossed. Angry. I wondered who was the parent and who was the child.
Because I didn’t trust her, I checked her fridge, saw that it was empty, as she said.
She then held out her hand as if I’d pull a wad of cash from my wallet and hand it over.
Instead, I told her if she wanted groceries, we’d be going shopping together.
I wanted to ensure the money went to actual food and staples, not cigarettes or liquor.
Now we were on the way to the store, a fifteen-minute ride back into town from the foothills where they lived. My dad was left behind, in his recliner with a late afternoon talk show on the TV. He’d turned away from the programming and his beer long enough to say hi.
“Probably,” I replied. “Why are you short again?”
She huffed, then looked at me. The waft of liquor came from her breath. I didn’t turn my head from the road but winced at the odor that mixed with the smoke clinging to her clothes.
“Because you didn’t pay to have the car fixed.”
“Neither did you, from your text. Only a small portion.”
“Well,” she began, grabbing her purse by her feet. She pulled out her pack of cigarettes.
“No smoking,” I said.
Another huff and she put them back.
“Well?” I prompted.
“I quit my job.”
I blinked, death gripped the steering wheel, then took a deep breath. “Why? Was your boss handsy like the last one?”
I wasn’t for asshole employers, but in Cheryl’s case, frequently when she quit over the years, she pulled out that excuse. Now I was never sure if she cried wolf or not.
“No. I won at nickel slots at the casino on the reservation.”
I glanced her way for a second, then back on the road, slowing for a curve. “You gambled? While you don’t have money and make me pay your rent and car repair bills?”
She waved her hand. “I won ten thousand dollars so I didn’t need that job any longer.”
I was stunned. That was a lot of money for playing the slots.
“Then why am I taking you to get groceries?”
“I told you you didn’t have to. I’d be at home right now with my drinky-poo and you’d be off living your life like you always do.”
“No, you told me to just give you money,” I said, diplomatically as possible. “Why do you need it from me if you made ten thousand dollars? That will pay the car bill, plus your rent and groceries for the next six months.”
“Because I lost it all.”
I slowed, then pulled off onto the shoulder. Now I could give Cheryl my complete attention because I thought she said she lost it all. “You lost it all?”
She nodded. Her blonde hair, which used to be the same shade as mine, was in need of a root touchup and gray coverage. Between her drinking and smoking, she was weathered and rough looking for her age. I had to wonder how sober she was right now, especially if she wasn’t working.
I remembered when she was beautiful, but she’d always been mean spirited. Self-centered.
“I lost it playing craps.”
“You gambled away all ten thousand dollars?”
“The table was hot! Then some bitch in high heels blew on the dice and the luck changed.”
I stared at her wide eyed. She was serious.
“You’re blaming your loss of all that money on a bitch in high heels? It’s not her fault! It’s yours!”
“The table was hot until she walked up.”
“Oh my fucking God!” I flung my arms in the air. Somehow, for some reason, right now, sitting on the side of the road, I was done. D.O.N.E. Done. “That’s it. I’m out.”
I turned to face the road, looked over my shoulder to see if a car was coming, then pulled out. She grabbed my arm. “Out? Out of what?”
I headed back toward her house.
“Out of taking care of you. Of wasting my time, my money, my emotions on you.”
“Don’t be silly, I’m your mother.”
I stepped on the gas, driving faster so I could get rid of her sooner.
Like Arlo said, I should have done this years ago.
She would never love me. I’d been hoping for scraps of affection even when, deep down, I knew it would never come.
Why had I seen it so fast with Theo, but not with her?
It didn’t matter. I was done with him. I was done with her. I deserved being loved completely.
“I’m dropping you off at home and you will not call me. You will not stop by. You will not get in touch with me in any way.”
“What?” she grabbed my arm in a talon-like grip. “I need you.”
I shook my head. “No, you don’t. You’re an ungrateful, mean woman. If you want to be my mother, then act like one. Until then, we’re done.”
“Oh, it’s Lindy Beckett’s influence that you’re talking to me like this.”
I smiled then, thought of my call with her just a little while ago.
I glanced at Cheryl and said, “Yes, it is.”
Then the screech of tires had me jerking my head back to the road in front of me, but it was too late.
The impact was instantaneous, then the world went black.