Page 11 of Undone

“Fuck you, Dad.” I breathed, opening a hidden door on the side of his bookcase.

Bingo.

His bottle of Old Rip Van Winkle sat there. The asshole paid upwards of thirteen hundred dollars for it at a charity auction a few years before he died in his office chair from a sudden heart attack. Grabbing the entire bottle, I walked back to the kitchen in time to see the old geezer walking out. “Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out!” I yelled, bottle of Bourbon in one hand, my father’s cut-crystal low ball glass in the other. He didn’t reply as he shut the front door.

“Un-fucking-believable,” I muttered, pouring a generous amount of the amber liquid into my glass. It went down feeling like smooth fire. Deciding to brew a pot of decaf for Ma after all, I got busy measuring scoops of the Columbian blend she loves. I felt her presence in the doorway behind me and the muscles in my back clenched, going back to the state of tension I’d become accustomed to.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Did you think I was a virgin?” She tried to joke.

My eyes closed, hands clenched by my side, I answered. “I didn’t need to see that. What in the hell were you thinking? I was worried sick about you—half-expecting to find you on the floor again.” I finally turned around to pour more Bourbon before taking a seat at the breakfast nook overlooking the back gardens.

“I was thinking… I’m too young to live alone and that it’s never too late to find love. In fact, there’s a talk I want to have with you that’s long overdue. I’m not sick by the way, the doctor said I had low blood sugar.”

Sighing, I sat back in my seat stretching my jean clad legs out.

“Talk to me son. Richard thought you were a criminal breaking in to kill us.”

“I am a criminal, Ma.”

She shut her eyes, rubbing her temples, “Stop. I can’t hear that.”

“Well, it’s true. But if it helps you sleep at night—remember I only clean-up what the law doesn’t. I’m the good guy that does bad things.”

“I can’t hear anymore. I’m your mother… and I love you more than my next breath, but you can’t go on like this. I supported you when you chose to live a different life, not wanting the country club wife, corporate job, and the law degree your father tried to push you into getting. But you’re lost.” Her hand landed on mine.

“I’m not lost.” I denied, refusing to meet her eyes.

“You can’t lie to me.”

“I’m fine.”

“It hurts me to see you like this.”

“So, your answer is to let random men in the house… and in your bedroom?”

“I’ve been seeing Richard for a while.”

“Oh?” My eyebrow rose.

“He treats me like a queen. You know your father and I fell out of love decades ago.”

“You could’ve divorced him.”

“No. I couldn’t. I was never strong, like you. It sounds silly now, but at the time… he had such power and control over me. He threatened me… hurt me physically as well as emotionally abused me.”

“If he wasn’t already dead—I’d kill him with my bare hands. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you escaped the hell this house was when he lived in it.”

“Sell. Sell this place.”

“I am. I was just staying here to be close to you.”

“Where do you want to go?”

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