Page 84 of Just Business

I breathe out a short laugh. “Go ahead and say it. I know you’ve been dying to.”

Tyler leans forward, tapping his chin. “If my memory is correct, I think your exact words were, ‘this town better change my life.’” He lowers his voice, and I laugh at his poor imitation of me.

“That’s not how I sound.”

A few seconds of comfortable silence pass. “You talked to my mom this weekend?” Tyler asks, his tone turning solemn.

The air shifts and I nod, replaying the phone call I received from my aunt last night in my head.

My mom is at my aunt and uncles, staying in Cassie’s old bedroom while Aunt Ashley helps her heal. The other night she got a call from the hospital. She said my mom was almost unrecognizable from the beating she took. This has solidified a case against my dad, and now he’s gone into hiding. The police can’t find him anywhere, which is unsettling to say the least. And whether I’m ready or not, it means I have to face my mom, because I’m headed back to Texas tonight.

“Yeah, I’ve talked to her.” I swallow. “Ty, I’m nervous about seeing her. I scheduled an emergency session with my therapist to talk about it.”

Tyler nods. “Understandable. I think anyone in your shoes would be nervous.”

“So, therapy, huh?” He always knows when I need a subject change.

“Yeah.” I huff out a laugh. After a beat, I add, “I’m actually thinking about going to AA.”

Tyler’s eyebrows shoot up to his forehead. “You think you need that?” he asks.

I sit up straighter, thinking over how to describe what it felt like.

“Ty, there’s a lot of people out there who could have a drink or two to unwind after a long day.” I nod my head toward him. “You’re able to. You can set it down and not drink again for weeks. I’m learning that I’m not built that way. My relationship with alcohol isn’t good. It’s my coping mechanism when things feel like too much, and there’s no turning it off once I get started. You were there. You saw it more than anyone. Once I got to Singing River I was able to turn it off a bit better, but only because for a short time life there was easier. But the minute things got hard, I screwed up. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and yeah, I think AA might be what I need.”

Tyler lets out a low whistle. “You’re really the poster boy for emotional maturity, huh?”

I shoot him my middle finger and he laughs. “Sure as shit am. Starting to look a lot like you.”

* * *

I drive up to my aunt and uncle’s house, dread settling heavy in my belly. It’s one in the morning and the house is dark. I toe off my shoes at the door, careful to make as little noise as possible, not wanting to wake anyone. My stomach growls, and my aunt’s fridge is always stocked. Quietly, I make my way to the kitchen. But when I step inside, I freeze. I’m not the only one awake and I’m forced to face my past whether I’m ready or not.

The harsh light of the refrigerator illuminates my mom, a bandage wound around her head. She doesn’t seem to notice me at first, her eyes searching over the food in the fridge. We never had much food when I lived with her and my father, and I imagine not much has changed. When she finally hears my footsteps, she grabs the yogurt she was reaching for, slams the door shut, and throws up her hand to shield me from seeing her face.

Suddenly, it’s just my mama, and I’m her little boy, wanting to take care of her. Deep down, I know how messed up that is, it should be the other way around, but it’s always been this way.

I walk over to her and I see she’s visibly trembling. She turns, and a wave of red-hot rage threatens to boil over. One eye is nearly swollen shut, and her top lip has a jagged line of stitches. When I reach to touch her shoulder, she flinches, and I’m reminded how much I resemble him.

“Mama, it’s okay, it’s Austin. I’m here and you’re safe,” I reassure her, keeping my voice soft. “Here, let me help.” I take the yogurt from her trembling fingers, peeling the lid back for her. Once I’ve eased her into a chair, I grab a spoon from the silverware drawer and hand it to her. I also grab a container of yogurt for myself while I’m up.

“How’ve you been?” I ask, settling across from her.

She gives me a pointed stare, motioning toward her face.

I laugh through my nose. “Point taken.”

“How’ve you been?” she asks, her voice timid, barely above a whisper. “I’ve been keeping up with you. Sometimes when I could get away, I’d go to the library and print everything I could find about you.”

The thought of my mama keeping up with me all these years causes a sharp pang in my chest. “Yeah, don’t believe everything you read,” I say, shaking my head quickly. “I mean, a hell of a lot of it was true, but…” I huff out a breath. “Just don’t believe all of it.”

She reaches across the table, placing a trembling hand on mine. I glance down and notice her fingernails are bitten to the quick. It hits me like a punch. Sitting across from her feels like I’m facing a scared animal. Something twists inside me as I rest my other hand over hers.

“Tell me everything. What was true?” she asks.

So I do. I tell her about my career, a lot of which she already knew. I smile as I tell her about my time in Alabama and meeting Penny.

Mom and I talk until the sun starts to rise, carefully side-stepping the father-shaped elephant in the room. There’s time for that later. In the next few days we’ll figure out what needs to happen with him, but right now, I’m her boy and she’s my mom, catching up on lost time.

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