Page 9 of Creole Kingpin
“Glutton for punishment, I suppose. But then again, I really enjoy seeing how many new wrinkles you’ve gotten since the last time I stopped by. Run out of night cream, Aunt Bernie?”
She hisses, as inactuallyhisses like a snake. Considering she’s as mean as one, it doesn’t surprise me. “You were an ungrateful child, and now you’re a perfectly awful woman. Get your whore ass out of my house.”
That knocks loose the first real laugh I’ve had all day. “Bitch, I own this house, so my whore ass can come and go as I please.”
She bares her teeth at me as Norma, the former maid who Bernadette treatedhorriblywhen she worked for her, comes to bring the bag of bones a tray for lunch. Or maybe dinner. Who the hell knows what schedule old people eat on anyway?
Bernadette’s face pinches as she looks at the food and then back up at Norma. “Did you poison it? Is that why she’s here? To finally watch me die? Because I’m ready. Been ready for years.”
“Not today, Bernie,” Norma says with a genuine smile. “Maybe tomorrow.” The tables have turned, and Norma and I both find it fucking hilarious.
Bernadette had a fancy house and high standards. So high that she kicked me out when I was sixteen and got expelled from school after getting caught giving the history teacher a blowie in the supply closet. Not that anyone ever asked mewhyI did it or thought maybehewas the one in the wrong. I was out on my ass as soon as Bernadette got the call from the school.
She told me all along I was going to end up a whore like my mother, and I proved her right. What else was a homeless teenage girl going to do to support herself on the streets?
Fast forward nearly twenty years, and Bernadette got sucked into a series of phone scams that preyed on the elderly. She lost everything.
It must have been the worst day of her life when she had to call and ask me for money.
Bernadette glares at Norma’s retreating back. “You love to torture me. Both of you.”
I glance around the room of the house where she lives. “Yes, so much that I make sure you have everything you need and you never go hungry. You’re lucky I don’t restrict your food like you did mine when you thought I was getting fat at fourteen.”
She grabs a carrot stick and crunches down hard on the end. “You should thank me for that. Look at you now.”
I run my hands down my sides, letting them curve over my hips. “You’re right. No thanks to you, I look fucking great.”
“Get out of here with your filthy language. I shouldn’t have to listen to this. It has to be elder abuse. I’m gonna get a lawyer and tell them everything. Just you wait.”
I pluck a cherry tomato from her plate and pop it into my mouth. “Yeah, and what’re you gonna pay him with? Your Social Security check barely keeps the lights on or buys groceries.”
She shakes her head and hovers over her food so I can’t steal more.
“It’s good to see you’re still kicking, Bernie. Just like the stubborn mule you are. I’ll be back next week to check on you. Let Norma know if you need anything.”
She ignores me as I strut out of the living room and into the small kitchen where Norma is washing silverware.
I cut the shit and get right to it. “How’s she doing?”
Norma’s frail shoulders rise and fall. “She’s lonely, whether she’ll admit it or not. She makes up reasons to complain so she’ll have something to say to me. So ... pretty much the same as always.” She turns the water off and places the last spoon in the dish rack. “She’s always full of energy after you come to visit, though. She doesn’t mean what she says, you know?”
My eyebrows lift to my hairline. “Oh yes, she does. She was born mean, and she’ll stay mean until the day she dies.”
“You two best not be talking about me!” Bernadette calls from the other room. Being wheelchair bound after the last fall that broke her hip, she can’t come find out.
I poke my head through the doorway. “Of course we’re talking about you. Norma’s telling me that there’s hope of you being a decent human yet. I don’t buy it.”
“Go to hell.” My great-aunt’s slender middle finger flips me the bird.
“Already been there, Bernie. Try not to choke. No need to add ambulance bills to your upkeep.”
I move back into the kitchen and give Norma a kiss on her papery cheek. “Thank you for taking such good care of her. You’re a saint.”
“You’ve done right by her, Ms. Magnolia, whether she’ll admit it or not.” Bernadette’s caregiver squeezes my arm. “Have a blessed day.”
“You too. Both of you.”
Five
