Mother (30 page)

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Authors: Tamara Thorne,Alistair Cross

BOOK: Mother
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Geneva-Marie rose, stumbling back, staring in horror as blood spurted from Burke’s mouth and nose.

Chris was screaming, flapping his arms wildly as he wept, the front of his Angry Birds T-shirt wet with tears and snot. “Chris!” Geneva-Marie scooped the eight-year-old up and held him tight.

“You fucking bastard!” Barry’s blows went on. “You fucking drunk son of a bitch! Don’t you ever,
ever,
touch my mother again!”

“Barry, please
stop!
” Geneva-Marie held Chris’ head to her bosom, covering his ears. His body shook with wracking sobs.

“Do you hear me? Do you
hear
me?” Barry plowed on.

Burke’s arm shot up and he smacked his son.

Barry toppled to the floor.

Burke was on his feet, his body heaving with strangled, ragged breaths. He wiped away a string of bloody saliva dangling from his lip and looked at Geneva-Marie with pleading eyes. As if emerging from a trance, he stared around the room, shocked. His swollen battered eyes returned to his wife. “Oh, honey,” he burbled past his split lip. “I’m so sorry.”

He made a move toward her but Geneva-Marie dodged him, holding Chris close. “Don’t touch me! Don’t come anywhere near me or my boys!”

He froze, stunned.

“Barry! Come on!” She used the voice her children knew not to argue with. Barry, who appeared as stunned as his father, ran to Geneva-Marie. “Get my keys and purse and wait by the front door.”
 

He hesitated.

“Right now. Go, both of you.” She let go of Chris and the boys ran down the stairs.

“Geneva-Marie,” said Burke. “Honey. I’m so sorry.” His face crumpled and he raised a hand to his eyes, weeping. “I didn’t mean to-”

The fear was gone. She didn’t know where her courage had been ten minutes ago, but it was here now. She stepped closer to him as he fell to his knees and wept in his hands. “You listen to me, Burke Collins, and you listen good.” Her voice was steady, steel, and calm. “You’d better get yourself a damned good lawyer-”

“But, hon-”

“I’m taking the kids away from here, away from you.” She raised her finger and jabbed it in his direction. “First thing tomorrow, I’m calling a lawyer and I’m beginning divorce proceedings.” She turned and headed for the door.
 

“No honey, please! It was an accident! I didn’t mean-”

She paused at the top of the stairs and faced her husband. “And I’d start packing now, Burke, because you’re not getting the house.”

Burke wailed. “It won’t happen again!” He got to his feet and started toward her and she held up her hand, stopping him.

“You’re right, Burke. It won’t happen again.” She took in the stained shirt, the extra thirty pounds, the greasy graying skin of his face, the sagging beard-stubbled jowls. It was suddenly unfathomable that she’d ever had doubts about leaving this man. “You’re weak, Burke. And you’re a coward.”

He gaped at her, then wiped more blood from his face.

Geneva-Marie Collins turned and left the house.
 

In a foul mood, Prissy pushed one of her trash bins to the curb and stared at the way Burke Collins had parked his silver Lincoln - half on the lawn - just as Geneva-Marie and both her boys came out the front door. The older one, Barry, was supporting her - she was limping badly. Both of them were bloody - she could see it from three houses away. The little boy was beside them, crying and sniffling, but untouched. Barry looked up and saw her staring, then turned away. Leaving Geneva-Marie with Chris, he ran past Burke’s car. An engine roared to life and the pearl white Escalade backed down the wide driveway, barely missing Burke’s Lincoln. Barry pulled into the center of the street, then got out and hurried his mother and brother into the SUV, then they tore down the street, like the proverbial bat out of Satan’s lair, screeching, burning rubber.

Prissy saw Candy Sachs on the sidewalk. Then Duane Pruitt came out of his house, as did his houseboy. The Oriental remained on the porch, but Duane joined Candy. They whispered together, then the two of them approached her.

“What happened?” Duane asked. “Did you see?”

Nosy idiots
. Mother wiped the grin off her face and put on her most concerned voice. “Oh, I think Geneva-Marie and Burke had a little tussle.”

“That’s too bad,” Candy said.

Duane stared at the Collins house. “I hope Geneva and the boys are okay.”
 

I’ll just bet you do.
“I think I saw some blood,” Prissy said softly.

“On Geneva? The boys?” Duane sounded very alarmed. Candy gasped.

“Yes.” Prissy said after waiting a beat.

“Where were they going?”

“I have no idea.”

“The hospital,” Candy said, turning to go home. “If there’s blood …”

“Excuse me.” Duane trotted back to his house. A moment later, he and Jerry pulled out in his F-250.

Prissy stood in the fading light, warm despite the chilly air, and smiled to herself, knowing her position as president of the Ladies’ Auxiliary was secure.

She watched Duane Pruitt’s brake lights disappear around the corner and couldn’t help wondering if Burke had found out what Prissy had known for many, many years. She doubted it; Geneva-Marie knew better than to confess, and no one else had any way of knowing. Maybe it was time to let the cat out of the bag.
 

“Why did you make me a second burger?” Claire wanted to unbutton her jeans and take a nap.

“You asked me to.” Paul grinned at her from across the table.
 

“Guilty.” She snatched another potato chip.

“More soda?” Jason asked.

“Yes - no. Maybe later.”

“Can I interest you guys in a tour?” Paul asked.

Claire nodded. “Yes. I need the exercise.” She looked around the neat square kitchen. “It’s really nice. How long have you lived here?”

“I bought it about fifteen years ago.” Paul stood and collected the paper plates, then tossed them into a sack by a refrigerated chest in the corner. “Come with me. I’m proud of this little place. I like showing it off.”

Jason and Claire followed him into the living room. There were no chairs, just a couch and end tables with nothing adorning the freshly painted walls. “You like the spartan look,” Jason said.

“He just painted, Jase. He hasn’t put everything back yet.” Claire looked around. “A few prints, some flowers, and this room will be perfect. It gets great light. I love the front window.”

Paul chuckled. “Truth be told, Claire, Jason’s guess is closer. I’ve never gotten around to putting anything up.” He grabbed a remote off the end table and aimed it at the opposite wall. “Except this” A TV came to brilliant life. Claire hadn’t even noticed it before. “Follow me.”
 

He led them into a hall that contained a small bathroom, then paused to open another door. “The master bedroom suite. What do you think?” Paul beamed at them.

It was a simple bedroom with walls the pale color of bamboo shoots, a bed with an ivy print comforter, and a dresser. Claire smiled, amused at how proud Paul seemed to be. “It’s very pretty,” she said.
 

Jason grinned and nodded.
 

Paul went further into the room and opened what she’d thought was a closet door - but it was a master bath with two sinks.
 

“That’s really nice,” Claire said.

“She’s always wanted two sinks.” Jason chuckled.

Paul led them into another room, a small second bedroom with a desk against one wall and a closet. “It’s so cozy,” said Claire.
 

But Paul was already back in the hall, leading them past a laundry room and to another door. “And
this
is the third bedroom. I’ve just had it redecorated.”

Claire was even more amused. Paul’s idea of decoration was very limited.
 

“Come here, Claire,” Paul said. “I want you to see it first.”

“Sure.” She stepped forward, opened the door, and gasped. “What- I mean, I didn’t even know you were married, Paul, and you’re going to have a baby?”

Paul took her hand and patted it. “No, I’m not married.
You’re
having a baby.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

“This was my first home. I paid it off last year.”

Claire stared at him.

“I rent it out. It’s empty - the tenant was transferred very suddenly. I’m hoping you and Jason will move in and take care of it for me. Believe me, you won’t find lower rent anywhere.” He paused. “Except maybe at your mother’s.”

Claire glanced at Jason, whose grin nearly split his face in two. “You knew!” She gave him a playful punch.

He grabbed her wrists, laughing. “I knew, sweetheart, but I haven’t known for long.”

“My tenant was transferred and gave notice a week ago and vacated three days later,” Paul explained. “He left the furniture, if you can use it.”

Claire’s stupid pregnancy hormones made her cry, and she threw her arms around Paul and hugged him for all she was worth. Then she did the same to Jason.

“You think she likes it?” Paul asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jason said.

“You guys, knock it off!” Claire was laughing
and
crying now.

“Let’s go back in the kitchen and have some coffee,” Paul said.

Within five minutes, they were warming their hands around fragrant paper cups of instant coffee as Paul went over the details. Claire was stunned at the miniscule rent - they were going to pay little more than taxes and utilities for now. Plus, they’d be about as far away from Mother’s as possible while remaining in Snapdragon. She felt dizzy again, but with joy. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “I just can’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” Paul said. “You’re the little sister of the best friend I ever had. You deserve it.”

She fought back tears. “Thank you.” She looked at her husband, then back at Paul. “I guess my guy impressed you, huh?”

“He’s the best thing that’s happened to Schuyler Flight School in its entire history, and I want to keep him - and you - around.” He twinkled. “When you two are a little more on your feet, maybe we can discuss your buying the place. Would you be interested?”

She almost blurted
yes
then thought of Mother and looked at Jason. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s the best thing since jet engines.” He grinned.

She looked to Paul. “I absolutely love it, Paul, but I really wanted to go back to the city as soon as possible. I mean, I’d be hugging you to pieces over the offer right now except for-”

“Your mother?” Paul asked.

Claire’s jaw nearly dropped. “Did Jason tell you about our … problems?” She glanced at her husband.

“No. No, no, no. Don’t even think that. Jason doesn’t tell tales. Tim did.”

“What?”

“I’ve known what your mother is like since the very first time I came over to play with Tim - long before you were born. She was always watching him, always in his face. And she didn’t like me; she didn’t like any of his friends.” He paused to sip coffee. “She didn’t say so, but it was easy to sense.”

Claire’s interest was piqued. “And what did Tim tell you about my mother?”

Paul stared.

“Don’t worry,” said Claire. “I have no loyalty to her and won’t rush to her defense.”

He seemed reluctant. “Tim didn’t talk about her much. He told me by the way he acted around her. He didn’t really like to bring friends over, but she insisted we play there as much as at my parents’ house. We’d watch TV and she’d come in and tell us we should be watching something else. Usually religious shows. It was pretty freaky. Tim would pull faces when she wasn’t looking. Or he’d shrug in this funny way he had.”

“I remember that shrug,” Claire said. “It was his way of saying he couldn’t do anything so he’d roll with the punches.”
 

Paul nodded. “He wouldn’t talk about guy-stuff - or her - especially at his house. He told me she was always listening through the vents and I believed him, because we could hear her in the living room through the same vents. God, she was always playing an old record-”


Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree
?” Jason asked.
 

“She still plays it?” Paul’s eyes went wide.

Claire nodded, though a quiet memory, something deep and long buried, tried to nudge into her awareness.
Mother played another song, too … one that scared me.
But she couldn’t recall the melody. “She does love the Andrews Sisters, yes.”

“It probably helped keep you from hearing her talk to herself,” Jason said.
 

Paul laughed. “I remember that.”

“She still does it too,” Claire said.
 

Paul nodded. “So, anyway, I got to thinking about you guys living there and figured it couldn’t be too much fun, so I asked Jason if he thought you’d like to live here, where you’d have more privacy. He said yes.”

“I did,” Jason added.

“You don’t need to think of living here beyond however long you need to save up to go back to the city, but if you want to consider it, the offer will stand as long as you’re here.” Paul looked at Jason. “I have to admit, I don’t want to lose this guy. And your mother may well leave you alone out here.”

Claire nodded. “Good point. If something isn’t about her, she doesn’t bother with it. And my life - our lives - are
not
about her.” The stupid tears welled again. “Paul, this is wonderful of you. You’re so kind.”

“You’re Tim’s sister - and that makes you my honorary family. It’s not always about blood, you know.”

She blew her nose. “First you gave Jason a job and now you’re letting us live in your house. You’re the best Santa in the world.”

“Paul, why did you offer me that job?” Jason sat forward. “You’re a businessman and you hadn’t even seen my resume. How did Prissy convince you?”

Paul’s laugh was awkward. “Let’s just say that she pushed me into it. I was very hesitant, but I remembered Claire - she’s a chip off Timothy and her dad - not her mother. I figured that if you were good enough for her, you were probably the right man for me.” His cell rang. “Excuse me a minute.” Standing up, he walked out of the room, talking business.

A moment later, he returned. “I was just asked to replace a pilot for a wedding party flying to Reno tonight, so I have to get going.”

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