CARTER
I kissMom on the cheek and step back so I can take in her face better. She’s lost weight over the last few months, and it skyrockets my worry. The stress lines on her face are deeper, and she looks like she’s aged ten years.
I could kill my father and younger brother for what they’ve done to this family. But then, I may not have to. The evidence against them is indisputable, which means both are looking at hard prison time. And we all know what happens to people in prison who have committed crimes against children. I honestly can’t say I would be heartbroken if either or both of them were to die. Maybe I should, but they stopped being a part of my family the minute I found out about them raping my foster brother, Sam, and the sex trafficking ring they were a part of.
“Mom,” I say quietly. “You need to start taking better care of yourself. When was the last time you saw Dr. Erikson?”
Dr. Erikson is Mom’s psychologist. The stress of what Dad and Mark did became too much, so she started seeing him a couple of months ago.
Mom pats my hand and ushers me into the kitchen, where she no doubt has a spread of food big enough to feed the whole neighborhood. She’s always been a stress cooker.
“I’m fine, Carter,” she answers after she pushes me down onto one of the stools at the bar. “I saw Bryan last week. He put me on a new medicine to help me sleep, and I’m still adjusting. That’s all it is.”
She’s lying and we both know it, but I don’t call her out on it. Not yet, at least. I know something is bothering her, besides the obvious, and know it’s best to wait her out.
Mom putters around the kitchen, putting God knows what on a plate she’ll no doubt set in front of me.
“When do you take over for Frank?” she asks. Setting the plate in front of me, she goes to the fridge and pulls out a pitcher of tea before pouring some in a glass. “Are you sure you shouldn’t take a couple more weeks to settle in?”
I look down at the mountain of food, half of which I can’t name, and pick up an egg salad sandwich cut in half.
“Monday is my first day.” I take a bite, chew, and swallow before I continue. “Frank was kind enough to hold off retiring until the sale of my house went through. I’m sure he’s anxious to start traveling with Nina, so I don’t want to make him wait longer. He’s already going to stay a few days after I start.”
She nods, taking the seat next to me and places the glass of tea down in front of my plate. I slide my plate between us and point to it. “Eat something, Mom.”
I can tell she wants to refuse, but thankfully she doesn’t. She grabs what looks like a ball of cheese and takes a small bite.
“Although I hate what warranted you moving here, I’m glad to have you home,” she says.
“Me too, Mom.”
We spend the next few minutes making small talk. She asks how I like being back in Silver Falls, and I tell her better than I did when I first got here four days ago. Of course, I don’t tell her the reason why living here is suddenly more appealing is because of the gorgeous brunette I slept with last night.
As we talk, I eat the stuff I recognize on my plate while she nibbles on the unidentified food. After a few minutes, she brushes her hands off then laces her fingers together and sets them on the bar. From the way her knuckles turn white, I get the feeling what she’s about to say isn’t going to be pleasant.
“Your father called me from the jail yesterday.” She says it so quietly I barely hear her, so it takes me a minute to register what she said.
And now I know why she looks so haggard today.
“You’re kidding, right?” I have to force the fake calmness into my question. Calm is the last thing I’m feeling right now. That bastard has no right to contact either of us, but especially Mom.
“I didn’t accept the call.” She lifts her eyes to me. One part anger, and three parts sadness fill their brown depths. “Even thinking that man’s name makes me sick to my stomach.”
I unlock her fingers and take one of her hands in mine. It feels clammy. “You have every right to feel that way. What they did was beyond disgusting. I know how hard this has been on me. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
“I just want it over with.”
“I really wish you would tell the jail to not let him call you anymore. You never accept his calls anyway, so putting your number on the do not call list will make it easier on you.”
“I know.” She looks down at our hands. “I’m not entirely ready to close that door yet.”
“Has Mark tried calling you?”
Pain pulls down Mom’s brows. It’s one thing to hate your husband for the things he’s done. It’s different when it comes to your kid. Hate is a strong word and it can be absolute. I know Mom will never forgive Dad for what he’s done, but Mark, he’s a part of her. Made of her own flesh and blood. I know she struggles with her feelings regarding him, and I don’t know what to do to help her. How can you not abhor a person, no matter who they are, when they do vile things against children? But on the other hand, how can you hate your own child?
“No. Not even once,” Mom says. The despondency in her tone makes me want to rearrange Mark’s face even more. “And I don’t know how to feel about that.”
“Well, whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay, Mom. Whether it’s good, bad, or sad.”
Her eyes fill with tears when she looks at me. “Thanks, sweetie. Thank goodness I still have you.”
I get up from my seat and pull her with me, then drag her into my arms. She wraps me in a tight hug, sniffs, and buries her face against my chest.
“You’ll always have me, Mom,” I murmur against the top of her head. “No matter what.”
Fuck Dad and Mark for tearing this family apart. Mom and I only need each other.