Page 37 of Penance
“Of course, dear, but while we wait, I was wondering if you might help me.”
My brows pulled together. “Help you?”
“Well, yes, you see, the teachers had a carry-in today, and I forgot about it and brought my lunch. I really don’t want it to go to waste. Would you mind eating it for me? I noticed you didn’t eat lunch today.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks.
“I wasn’t very hungry.” I lied.
“I can understand that, dear, but eating will help stave off that flu you’re coming down with. So how about it? Will you help me out?”
Hesitating, I lifted my gaze and finally looked at her. There was nothing but sincerity in her eyes.
“Okay.”
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I went home that day with two things—a partially full stomach and food for my mom. I only ate half the meal Ms. Whitmore offered me, hiding the rest in my bag. As much as I wanted to eat all of it, I couldn’t let my mom go hungry.
The bus dropped me off at the front corner of our trailer park, and I walked to where ours sat in the back. I hated walking that path alone, even in the daytime. A lot of bad people lived around us, and I knew enough to keep my head down as I walked. It never stopped my heart from beating through my chest, wondering if that would be the day I got jumped.
Luckily, I always made it safely to my house without incident. Once inside, I slammed the door behind me and locked it. I didn’t bother turning on the light. It wouldn’t have worked anyway. It’d been weeks since our electricity had been on, and I wasn’t counting on it coming back on anytime soon.
Pulling my backpack off my shoulder, I unzipped it and grabbed the food I’d carefully tucked inside.
“Mom,” I yelled, watching as she appeared in the hallway.
“Hi, baby. You’re home.” She smiled at me, but there was something wrong about it. Maybe it was because I rarely saw her smile anymore, but I didn’t think that was it. I studied her closer, searching for what was different.
Her hair was a mess of curls, falling around her shoulders, and even in the dimness of the room, I could see the flush in her cheeks. She looked—free. I think that was the best way to explain it.
She took another step closer, and then I understood. The smell hit me, overpowering all my other senses and burning my eyes.
“Mom,” I cried. “Have you been smoking weed?”
She giggled, holding her thumb and forefinger inches apart. “Only a little.”
Up until that day, her chosen vice was alcohol. I never did find out what made her seek out a joint that day, but it was another step toward her downfall.
Her eyes zeroed in on the food in my hand, and a loopy grin lit up her face. “Is that for me?”
I sighed, taking her hand and leading her to the couch. “Yeah, Mom. It’s for you.”
She didn’t wait for all the words to leave my mouth before she pulled it out of my hands and stuffed it in her mouth as if it might disappear.
“Eat slow,” I said, brushing her hair back from her face. “You’ll make yourself sick.”
Pulling the sandwich down from her mouth, she held it in her lap andturned to look at me.
“You’re a good kid,” she said, and for a second, I imagined that we were different—that she was different. I imagined she was the adult and I was the kid, and she was taking care of me. For a second, I imagined she loved me enough to be that, but reality always has a way of slapping you in the face when you dare to imagine.
My stomach growled, and I turned my face away from her. “Thanks, Mom.”
Chapter 13
Lily
You don’t belong here,the voice inside my head reminds me as I stare up at Abigail’s home. And I don’t. It’s been years since I set foot in a trailer park, and I still worry that the grime of that place sticks to me, ready to leave a trail in a place like this.
