Chapter Two
“You want what?” said the outraged voice on the other end of the line. The woman was so angry she was on the verge of hysterical laughter.
Silence.
“No, really. Tell me again. I want to hear your words.”
“Ma, please—”
“Ma, please,” she mocked him. “You disgust me. If you were here I’d slap the shit out of you.”
He knew from experience it was best to let her tirade run its course.
“I should’ve guessed when I saw your number on the caller ID. Run to Ma when you’re broke. Ha!” Her rage was old and tired, and it deflated itself in a long exhale like an overstretched balloon. “Ah, Matty. What is it this time? Late on your rent, or—”
“No, that’s not—”
“Drugs again, then?”
Silence.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” she said. “How many times do I have to tell you that Loser Liuzo is bad news?”
“I know, Ma. I just—”
“You know, I just wonder what your real mother would say if she were alive.”
Disdain and cheap bourbon dripped from her voice like blood from a fresh wound. Her anger was coming back, and this time he took the bait. “You leave her out of this!” he snapped.
“I hope she’s not watching over you, ‘cause she’s spinning in her grave if she is, crazy witch or not.”
“Shut up!” he snarled through tears of rage. “Like you have room to talk. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your after-church bender!” He choked on a sob for a moment and lost his anger. “Just…shut up.”
For a wonder she did. After a moment he heard a muffled sniffle from the woman.
“I’m sorry, Ma. I didn’t mean it.”
“No, I’m sorry, Matty. I shouldn’t have said that. I loved your mother like a sister. You know that, don’t you?”
“Even though she was crazy?” he asked.
Her quick laugh was tear-choked. “No, she wasn’t crazy. Folks around here just don’t take well to out-of-towners when they’re different like your mother, that’s all.”
“Yeah,” he replied.
After a moment, she changed the subject. “We missed you this weekend, Johnny and I.”
“Huh?”
“Remember, we invited you over for dinner on Saturday?”
“Dinn—Oh shit.” He felt the color drain from his face as a wave of shame broke upon him. It was in that moment, that sickening moment when he heard the tired hurt in her voice, that he knew why she was so upset, and why he deserved to feel the stinging lash of her harsh words a hundredfold. Saturday had been two years to the day since her oldest son David, Matt’s best friend, had been found dead in the river. “Oh, God. Mrs. Johannes, I’m so sorry. I—I just forgot.”
She had invited Matt to go to the cemetery and then have dinner with her and her other son, John.
“I know,” she replied. There was no expression at all in her voice. “It’s okay.”
“Did Johnny make it through alright?”
“Oh, Johnny’s fine. He’s barely old enough to remember he ever had a brother.”
“Is there anything—”
“No,” she sighed. He winced at her tone. There was no anger in her abruptness—just utter defeat. “No, there isn’t. Look, Matt, I don’t have any money to give you. I would if I did.” Then she added, “I’m glad you called, though. I was worried about you.”
His heart ached with the knowledge that her concern for him remained genuine despite the near-constant let downs from her surrogate son. “I know you would. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?”
He paused before answering. “Sorry for missing this weekend,” he replied. “Sorry for sorry excuses. I don’t know—sorry for being such a sorry excuse, I guess. Sometimes I think my whole stupid life is an apology.”
“Join the club,” she said.
“Look, Ma, I shouldn’t have called you like this. I’ll let you go.”
“It’s okay,” she replied. “I said I was glad you called and I meant it. Matty?”
“Yeah?”
“Why don’t you sell David’s old car? It’s got to be worth at least a couple hundred bucks.”
“I can’t sell Lenny. He’s my only way out of this town.”
She snorted a quick, sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, provided you one day get up the nerve to leave.”
He chose not to respond to that.
“I don’t know how you can hang on to that old thing,” she went on. “I gave it to you because I couldn’t stand to be reminded of David every time I looked outside.”
“It’s all I have left of Dave. I can’t sell it.”
“Yeah, I guess,” she said. “What do you have planned for the rest of the day?”
“Well,” he pondered, “I’ll either leave town and get as far away as I can, or I’ll spend it trying to figure out where I’m going to get Frankie’s money.” Then he added, “And Lenny’s just about out of gas, so that sorta cuts my options in half.”
“Maybe you should go ask Homeless Dan for money advice. He seems to do alright.”
He laughed at that. “Yeah, right. That crazy fuck threw shit at me the other day!”
“Oh, you must be special,” she joked. “He usually just shakes his peepee at me when I walk past his alley.”
“Hmm, sounds like he’s got the right idea—just annoy people ‘til they pay you to go away. Anyway, I gotta go do something about this hangover.”
“Matty?”
“Yeah?”
“If you get a chance, will you stop by the house later? I’d just like to see you.”
“Okay, if I’m still around after Frankie’s done with me, I will.”
“That’s not funny, Matt.”
“I know. Bye.” He thumbed the END button on his phone without waiting for her reply.
