Page 48 of Hell Bent
“I guess,” Ben said. “Why would you drink that, though? It’s disgusting.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said. “But some people like it. Want me to see how much a bottle of that costs?”
“Why, so I’ll have to work to pay it back?”
“Not up to me. Out of general interest.” I did some quick searching. “$159.99, because it was old. You have good taste, except that we both agree it doesn’t taste good.”
His face went whiter, if that were possible. “No way.”
“Cheer up. There’s a forty-year-old one that costs five thousand dollars.”
“American dollars?” he asked, appalled.
“Yep. Why did you drink it, if it’s disgusting?”
“Because he didn’t have anything else,” Ben said. “Not even beer.”
“Oh,” I said. “And you wanted to get drunk. How come?”
He shrugged, and I said, “No, come on. You must know.”
I waited, and finally, he muttered, “My mom.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “What about her?”
“She said I had to leave because she couldn’t take care of me. But it’s not like Sebastian’s going to take care of me, or like I need it. He wasn’t even here! If I’m going to be on my own anyway, what’s the point? And I was taking care ofher.Now she just has, like, strangers. How is that better?”
I said, “Well, I sure understand that.”
He blinked at me. “You do?” His hair such a mess, his shirt so wrinkled.
“I’m not fond of being told I have to conform to somebody else’s plan,” I said. “And that’s just about what I do for a living. Who I marry. Whether I go to college. Where I live. If somebody’d tried to send me away from the person I loved best right when she needed me most, I’d have been so pissed. I used to live in a trailer at my grandmother and grandfather’s place, partly so I could help them out. My grandfather loved gardening, for example, but old people can’t do the hard stuff anymore. I liked feeling that I was helping, and that they wanted me.” My feet moved restlessly, as if they wanted to run away from the next words. “I left, though. My grandmother’s ninety-four, and I left. I’m so torn about that, and it was my choice.”
“How come you don’t go back, then?” Ben asked.
“Because she told me to go,” I said, and smiled. It was a painful smile. “It’s hard to know what’s right, but I do know that most moms care more about their kids than they do about anything else in the world. It had to hurt your mom so much to send you away, so I guess that means it would have hurt more to have you stay.”
“I don’t get why,” Ben said.
“I know,” I said. “Have you called her today?”
He looked away. “No.”
“Ah. Too mad. Well, I get being too mad.”
“You do?”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve got a temper myself. So, hey. We’ve got about three things to do here. Clean the bathroom, clean you, and go to a football game. We’d better get started.”
He said, “The bathroom’s gross.”
“I noticed. Hence the cleaning.”
He looked nothing but appalled. “What, you mean me?”
“Well, yeah.Ididn’t drink any Laphroaig, thank God. Why should I clean up your mess?”
He struggled for something to say, and I said, “Let me know when you come up with a reason. It had better not be, ‘because you’re a woman,’ because that’s beneath you. Meanwhile, I’ll help you find cleaning supplies. I assume you know how to clean a bathroom.”
