“Mom,” I started, then stood in her line of sight to block her view of the television. “I need to talk to you about something.”
“Yeah, baby,” she said. She angled her head to watch around me so she could see her daytime soap. “Later, though, okay? This is a rerun of one of my favorites. This guy’s brother died in a tragic skydiving accident, see? Only he’s not actually dead. He’s back and he’s sleeping with that guy’s wife.”
“No,” I said, walking over to the television and shutting it off.
“What did you do that for?” She sounded indignant, but puffed on the end of her cigarette casually.
“Because this is important,” I said. “In town, someone said something about the property, about you taking care of the property. What’s going on?”
She waved me away with a dismissive gesture. “It’s that developer,” she said. “Wants to buy our property.”
“Did they make an offer on it?” I asked. “Is it a fair price?”
She turned and walked across the room, her bathrobe billowing behind her. “I don’t want to think about it,” she said. “I just can’t deal with - the paperwork and all that - after what happened with your father.”
I felt a rush of anger at her. My mother’s denial of anything bad in life had kept us with my father. She lived in this mental place where my father wasn’t an asshole, where he didn’t come home drunk on Friday nights after pissing away the little money we had, belt in hand, looking for someone to exact punishment on. And now, after he was dead, to act as if she should mourn him was insane. She should be relieved he was gone.
“You need to think about it, mom,” I said. “If they’re offering a fair price, you need to consider it.”
She began rummaging around in cabinets, pulling out a mixing bowl and utensils. “I have bananas,” she said. “I’m going to make that banana bread you boys always liked. You know Silas came by here yesterday.”
“Yeah?”
Her back was toward me as she took a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. “Asking questions about these things,” she said. “About the accident with your father, how he died. You boys know all that just causes me more stress than I can deal with, and then I start getting the headaches.”
“All right, mom,” I said. I made a mental note to ask Silas about it. She may not have ever been a great mother, but she didn’t deserve to just waste away in this shithole house, not if a big developer was offering her something for it.
“You talked to Silas, then?” she asked.
“Yeah, I talked to him.”
“I don’t like the two of you fighting,” she said. “You’re twins. You should be close. All of you should-Killian and Luke, too.”
Maybe if we’d have had a regular childhood, we would have all been close. That’s what I wanted to say, but I didn’t. Instead, I said, “Have you talked to Luke and Killian?”
She turned around, her back against the counter, her tone defensive. “Luke comes into town every now and again,” she said. “Smoke jumpers travel a lot, you know. He’d like to be here more, but he can’t. Sends me postcards though.”
I was sure that Luke’s job wasn't the only thing keeping him far away from West Bend.
“And Killian,” she said. “He’s traveling, too. Out on the oil rigs. Don’t hear from him much, every few months or so. Of course, that’s because he’s out of contact for long stretches of time. But he says he likes it.”
"Look, mom," I said. "I want you to be okay, money-wise. I want to look at whatever they're offering you."
She turned back toward the counter, waved me away with her hand. "Later, Elias," she said. "Not right now. I already feel a headache coming on."
I sighed. I wouldn't be getting anywhere with her, not on this topic. I'd have to see what Silas had to say about it. If anything.
"One more thing, mom," I said. "I ran into Jed Easton in town today."
She stopped mid-motion, her mixing spoon in her hand, but didn't turn around. "Oh?"
"He said I should give you his father's regards," I said. "What the hell was he talking about?"
She was silent, still for a moment. "I have no idea," she said, her voice strained.
"You have no idea why Jed's father, the town mayor, would be giving you his regards?" I asked. "You don't know what the hell he wants with you?"
She shook her head. "You need to stay out of business that doesn't concern you, Elias," she said, her voice dark. It was the first time I'd ever heard my mother speak directly about something like that in my life. It wasn't her way.
Now I was interested.
I also knew when to leave things alone. So I wasn't going to push it.
Then she surprised me again. "I think you should leave now," she said.
***
RIVER