Now, I was older, and I no longer needed her to cover my problems because, unlike her, I didn’t give a shit what others thought about my life and the way I chose to spend my time.
“If Dad were alive, he’d probably join me. We both know how much he loved his lavish parties and loose women.”
My cheek stung when her palm slammed into the side of my face as quick as a whip. The slap rang out around us, echoing off the concrete block walls of the police station.
Covering my cheek and feeling its heat against my palm, I laughed.
Just another day.
Another moment when she disregarded my feelings for her own embarrassment. She couldn’t give a shit less about me. It was always about perception and how everyone else perceived us and the way we lived.
The money.
The houses.
Extravagant vacations.
Everything was all for show.
“How dare you disrespect your father’s memory that way? He was a good man, Matthew. Nothing like his son,” she spat.
My heart ached with her hurtful words, but instead of showing my pain, I looked down at her with dark hate-filled eyes and turned away.
She never knew my father. She only knew the man he pretended to be for everyone else. Behind closed doors, he was funny and caring. He put me first always.
It was me.
Followed by wet women and money.
Then my mother.
And she hated knowing that. She hated that he always chose everything else first.
Maybe if she hadn’t always been a bitch, that wouldn’t have been the case, but it was all in the past now, and I no longer needed her approval and love.
I didn’t need anything from her.
“Well, I hope you’re proud of yourself. You really did it this time,” she said, adjusting her bag on her wrist.
“What do you mean?”
“The old man you hit … he was a judge. The judge. And apparently after hitting him with your car, you insulted him by calling him old and saying he didn’t deserve a license.”
I snickered, remembering saying that.
“Yeah. Laugh it up, son. Unfortunately for you, we can’t buy your way out of this one. I hope you enjoy community service because that’s exactly what you’re getting.”
She moved across the room toward the exit.
“Wait.” I followed behind her, my Versaces squeaking on the cheap laminate flooring. “How do you know? We haven’t even talked to him.”
She turned to face me, her eyes wide and her lips tight with anger. “You don’t own half of Charleston without having a little pull. I made some calls, but this judge you hit can’t be bought. Be glad you got off with community service and not jail time. And because of your little joke about the elderly, you’ll be serving that community service in a nursing home.”
I laughed, sure she was blowing smoke. No way would my mother ever be okay with me working at a nursing home. But when her face remained impassive to my laughter, I knew she wasn’t bluffing.
“You’re serious?” I asked appalled. “They want me to wipe old lady ass because I had a little too much to drink?”
She chuckled, covering her collagen-filled lips with the back of her hand.
“It’s either jail time or ass wiping. You make the choice.”
Before I could respond to her words, she turned on her heel and left me standing there with my mouth open in shock. She wasn’t fucking around this time. There would be no getting out of this punishment, and since the last thing I wanted was to spend time in jail, it was old lady ass for the win.
FIVE
MATTHEW
IF ONE MORE OLD LADY IN A MUUMUU FLIRTED WITH ME, I was going to have to wash my eyes out with acid and take a bath in bleach. They were worse than gawking horny old men, and for once, I was the one being treated like a piece of meat they wanted to gum to death.
The way they shuffled down the halls with their slippers sliding across the fresh floors I mopped on a daily basis. After so many days of that, it got to be annoying. I was never close to my grandparents, even though they had left me everything they had, so I had no idea how to deal with elderly people. They kind of freaked me out. To be around people so close to death really put things in perspective.
My mom, even though she ran many charity events for the local hospitals and nursing homes in the area, was the same when it came to caring for people or cleaning up after them. It wasn’t for us. If anything, people cleaned up after us, and we both knew when the time came that she would be well cared for by an in-home nurse. I wasn’t stupid, though; I knew not everyone could afford that.
So there I was, cleaning after people less fortunate because I was stupid enough to drink and drive. I didn’t have to like it. I just had to do it, and so I did.
Thankfully, I wasn’t wiping old asses. I didn’t think I could bear to see a bunch of wrinkled people naked. Instead, I was cleaning up after the elderly residents of the Twin Oaks Nursing home. I would be doing so for two months. It was what I had to do if I wanted to stay out of jail.
In due time, things in my life would return to normal again, but until then, I played the hand I was dealt, which meant sweeping crumbs and mopping up piss accidents.
Two months of that place was going to make me pull my fucking hair out. It was boring beyond belief, and the days dragged. Needless to say, when I became friends with Jermaine, the lead custodian, I was thrilled to have someone to talk to who wasn’t old enough to remember the Civil War.
“Fuck you, man, I didn’t say I wanted to stick it to Ester. I was saying I saw a picture of her when she was young, and she was hot back in the day,” he said.
He was sitting on the countertop swinging his short legs. His khaki uniform was smudged from cleaning all day. He scratched at his tight cornrows and tossed a chip into his mouth.
“Seriously. She was something to look at, man.”
I laughed.
We were on our second unauthorized break today, lounging in the kitchen area.
“It’s hard to believe any of these people were ever young. I couldn’t imagine living like this.”
He shrugged. “It’s not so bad. At least they’re content and fed properly. A lot of these people don’t have families. Imagine dying alone. This place keeps them from that lonely ending while making sure they’re as comfortable as possible.”
Stuffing a cracker into my mouth, I chased it with a drink of my Pepsi. “Yeah, I guess so. All I know is, I hope I don’t live long enough to need someone to wipe my ass.”
“Amen to that. My wife knows to put me out of my misery if I ever get to a point where I can’t care for myself.”
I nodded. “Agreed. How long have you been married?”
“Fifteen years and two beautiful daughters. Twelve and fourteen.”
“Ouch. You’re in the fun years. Teenage drama and all that.”
“Don’t I know it. Imagine living in a house with three hormonal women. There are days when I want to keep driving after work, but I love them. They’re my world.”
“Whatever works. I couldn’t imagine living with the same woman for fifteen years. I get bored after fifteen hours.”