Page 8 of Brandishing Betrayals

Luke eyed me skeptically. He wasn’t stupid. He was nine years old and wise beyond his years—an old soul as I often referred to him—he would see right through my bullshit if I wasn’t careful. “You were terrified, mom,” Luke said softly.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, baby. Let’s just get your equipment in the house. We can order a pizza for dinner and watch that new action hero movie you were talking about.”

“Alright! But no peperoni!” Luke shouted, before he threw open his car door and climbed out.

I pushed the button to release the trunk before I too climbed out of the car. I grabbed my purse and groceries bags. I doubled checked for my phone before I closed my door, just as Luke finished in the trunk and shut the lid closed.

We made our way into the house, trying to be as quiet as possible when we walked in. My parents usually took afternoon naps together, as much as they could with my father in a hospital bed. My mother had pushed her twin bed up next to my father’s,after we’d removed the king-sized bed, to make room for the hospital bed.

My mother made it work though.

I quickly unloaded the groceries while Luke put all his new football pads and gear away. It was supposed to be a fun summer day. We had hit the football pre-camp equipment pick up, met the coaching staff, and Luke had seen a couple of his friends from the day-camp he went to while I worked.

I had been able to meet the moms of his friends and exchange numbers; we even set up a playdate for the boys the following weekend at the local pool. Then Luke and I, had hit the grocery store for some odds and ends things we wanted, plus the ice cream that Luke had requested. We had talked about going rollerblading or bike riding that afternoon, depending on how my parents were, but now I wasn’t sure that was a good idea.

Fucking hell man… I’d been back in Mourningside nine months now. Nine months and I’d had no sign that HE even knew I was back. HE lived in Creekton anyways, not Mourningside.

After ten years, it shouldn’t matter anymore. What happened back then—what I had witnessed—he should know by now that I wouldn’t say anything. I even left town because of him, because he had told me to— well, threatened me.

I had just finished putting away the groceries when my mother hobbled into the kitchen. At sixty-five, Elaine Henderson was hunched over and acted more like she was going on eighty-five. The accident had really taken its toll on her.

“Hey honey,” my mom greeted me with a smile.

I forced a smile on my face. “Hey Mom, how are you feeling today?”

“Alright, dear. You guys were up and out early this morning,” she commented as she shuffled toward the coffee pot.

“Yeah, equipment pick up was at eight, then we ran some errands. I returned those books to the library for you and picked up a couple more. I also got everything you wanted for dinner tomorrow.” I turned to face my mother, watching as she grabbed her mug out of the drying rack next to the sink and slid it toward the coffee maker.

“Oh that’s great honey,” my mother said absentmindedly.

I frowned, watching my mother. She seemed lost in her own head, not really paying attention to me at all, but only engaging because I was standing in the kitchen. My mother was like that with me a lot, absent. We weren’t that close. We’d had a rocky relationship when I was growing up and we had fought a lot. My mother would always compare me to my older sister Jenna, it was alwaysJenna’s doing cheerleading, or Jenna’s got straight A’s. Jenna’s going to be a doctor.It drove me nuts growing up and only served to shove a wedge between me and my sister.

It wasn’t until college that my relationship with my sister grew. Jenna understood our mother had idealistic notions on what children should be, instead of loving and accepting the children she had. Jenna and I had spent two years partying together at college, healing our relationship, before she graduated and moved to Chicago for her residency.

We had grown close, so when shit went down ten years ago withhim, Jenna had invited me to Chicago to live with her while I got on my feet. Jenna had also helped me get a job at her hospital. It was the fresh start and support I had needed, during the most heartbreaking time in my life.

Now, I was close with my sister. Jenna had been my rock all these years and had helped me with Luke. We had lived together in Chicago, until Jenna had met her husband, Brad Daulson. When the two of them had decided to move in together, Jenna had left the apartment for Luke and I. Jenna had given me everything over the years.

When our parents had their accident, we had discussed options for their care. It had made more sense for me to move back home. Jenna had a husband and two young kids, and had a career to think about. She was hoping to become Head of Surgery one day.

I had been struggling month to month to pay rent in an expensive city on my own. My son had been left at sitters and day camps when I worked and the neighborhood around us had slowly descended into crime. It made sense for me to move in with my parents, even if the last time I had lived in this house, I had been kicked out.

In the almost ten years that I had lived in Chicago, I had reconciled things with my mother as best as we could. With both of us living two hours away and neither one on talking terms with her, Mom had broken down and admitted how wrong she had been. She had come to Chicago and had a big reconciling weekend with both of us, and Jenna had only agreed to moving forward if Elaine would really try and treat me better.

Our mother had agreed, but it had been slow going. There were too many years of hurt for me, and I didn’t really trust her after being kicked out last time. I tried though, for Jenna, and I really had missed dad, despite how he had broken my heart as well. After the accident, I had realized how little time I had left with my father, so I decided to suck up whatever hurt and anger I still felt for my mother and moved home to help take care of them.

My parents’ home in Mourningside was two hours south-west of Chicago. It was in an unincorporated neighborhood with large lots and plenty of room to run around and play outside. It boasted a great school district and Lucas had classmates down the street. Luke had bloomed since moving to Mourningside, especially his relationship with his father.

While it had been the best thing for Luke—or so I thought until that stupid fucking carnation had shown up on my windshield—I just wasn’t sure if it had been the best thing for myself. Looking at my mother as she splashed half and half in her coffee, I wondered again why my mother didn’t seem to care about me as much as Jenna.

“What do you have planned for this weekend?” my mother asked.

I glanced at the clock; it was just after one in the afternoon. After my scare with the flower on her windshield, I honestly didn’t feel like doing too much. “Laundry probably,” I answered, off handedly.

My mother hummed and shuffled away from the kitchen; her cup of coffee cradled between her hands and her quota for small talk reached for the day. I wondered why my mother even bothered asking, as she clearly didn’t care.

Marcos

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