Page 99 of Worth the Fall
My mother laughed, a disgusting, mocking laugh. “Peach here? You should’ve seen her in high school. You wouldn’t have called her a joy then!”
I took a soothing breath. “I had a hard time in high school, after Dad died.”
Mom looked at Colton as she lit another cigarette. “She likes to blame everything bad that’s ever happened on her dad’s death. She fails a test, ‘My daddy died, it’s not my fault!’ Gets a speedin’ ticket-not her fault, her daddy died!”
Colton cleared his throat. “I’m sure that was life-altering for you both. I can’t even imagine. I’m truly sorry for your loss.” He was so quick with his responses, and so calm. I needed a smidge of his peaceful demeanor, or I would truly have a heart attack before we left today.
“Well, he was never here anyway, so it didn’t change much,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Oh boy.
“Mom, can we talk about the eviction notice?” I asked, changing the subject before she could get on her “I was married to the world’s worst husband” kick.
She was leaning over the T.V. tray, presumably wondering where her ashtray/picture of her dead husband was. “What about it?”
“How did you let that happen?”
“We talked about this already,” she responded, seeming bored with the conversation. “There’s no money left.”
I hated that I had to bring this up in front of Colton, but what else could I do? Ask him to leave?
Actually, maybe that’d be best.
“Mom…” I hesitated and threw a glance at Colton, who was peering inside his plastic cup. “What about the money I’ve been sending you. That was more than enough for the mortgage, utilities, and everything. You were adamant that it got sent on a certain day, so I assumed that’s when the bills were due!”
She was chewing the inside of her cheek and staring me down. “I used that money; it’s gone.”
“Where did it go?” I asked in desperation, my voice cracking. I closed my eyes and tried to force the ringing in my ears to quiet down. “Mom, what happened to the life insurance money?”
“I told you, dummy, I used it to get you all your things when you were a teenager. I gave you a cushy life with your daddy’s money,” she retorted.
Colton grabbed my hand.
“All of that is gone?” I asked quietly.
“Yep.”
“Okay, so what have you been doing with the three grand I’ve been sending once a month?”
I could feel Colton’s body react in surprise.
Three grand a month. It adds up over five years. That’s one-hundred-and-eight thousand dollars. That’s how much money I have sent my mom since I got my “cushy” job. That’s how much she demanded she needed to keep afloat in a crumbling trailer park. I didn’t question it. I had the money, kind of, and felt like I owed her something after leaving Amarillo.
“I’ve been livin’ my life,Mom,” she groaned like a teenager. “I’ve had to buy food, and the old car broke down, so I needed to get around-”
I stood before I could tell my body not to. I was losing my mind.
“She’s always been like this,” Mom decided to tell Colton. “She always had to have the perfect grades, the cleanest room, little OCD if you ask me.” She took a long drink from her own plastic cup. “Anyway, after Clay died, she went off the rails for a few years! She went to this honky tonk every night, line dancin’ and hittin’ on guys. She even dyed a few little pieces of her hair pink!” She laughed hard.
I crossed my arms and stared at her, worried my teeth were going to snap in half from clenching my jaw.
“Barely saw her that last year of high school. But, Peach, I gotta give it to you, through all your phases, you always stayed a little freak who had to have the most perfect grades and the cleanest room. I bet your house in Boston has those little lines you get when you vacuum and blue cleaner in the toilet,” shecackled.
“Chicago, Mom,” I shot back. “I live in Chicago.”
Colton was throwing me helpless looks, trying desperately to help, but my jacked-up family was way past help.
“Why are you here, Peach?” She asked, turning to face me when Colton didn’t answer. “You here to judge me and then go back to the penthouse in New York?”
