“I didn’t know you’d be home this early.” Mama’s voice is soft, her eyes are on the table. Even though I know it’s probably mostly in my mind, something about her has changed for me now. She was strong. She had no weaknesses before. Now she is something else … an unknown.
My heart jumps to my throat as I see her reach out for the coffee mug in front of her. Her movements are wobbly and she’s struggling to not fall out of her chair. It takes me a moment to put that together with the two empty liquor bottles on the counter. I’ve very rarely seen Mama drink and now she’s at home in the middle of the day, completely wasted? When I gasp, she looks up at me and knocks over the mug. What spills out is far too clear to have any actual coffee in it.
Jordan moves immediately, rushing over to help her clean up.
I feel so small, so humiliated that I could disappear at any moment. It isn’t bad enough that this friend—this boy that I’m beginning to care far too much about—knows all my secrets from the past. Now he has to make new dark discoveries with me? My father, the one-time admitted killer. My mother, the drunk who bruised up my cheekbone.
Me, the girl who lies to him at the mall, who drunk-texts him in the park, and the daughter in a family that does nothing but hurt each other.
Mama watches Jordan with bleary eyes and blinks a few times before jerking her mug out of his hands. “You. Why are you here?” she snarls.
Jordan stops moving, looking from her to me in confusion.
Coming forward in his place, I take the mug and put it in the sink. Mama’s eyes never leave Jordan. They’re filled with pure hatred that I’ve never seen on her before.
After a few seconds, the hatred fades to confusion and she slowly climbs to her feet, using me to balance like some piece of furniture that she doesn’t actually see.
“You … you’re too young.” She takes a step backward, but when I try to pull her into her kitchen chair, she won’t move any closer.
Releasing her, I sigh and move over to Jordan. I do the only thing I can think of to show her that he isn’t a threat and he isn’t his father, like she appears to think. I stand next to him, and then slip my hand into his. He jerks his head toward me in surprise but then tightens his grip. The warmth and feel of his hand around mine seem to lend me the strength I need.
“I know what you’re thinking. This isn’t Detective—or Chief—Vega. This is Jordan, his son. He’s a friend.”
Mama glares, looking from Jordan to me. I feel Jordan’s eyes on me, too, and he moves his thumb softly over the back of my hand.
“I need a drink,” Mama finally groans before shuffling around us to take her seat at the table.
“I think that’s probably the last thing you need,” I reply softly, and she whips her eyes up to me. She opens her mouth to speak, but before she has a chance, I cut her off. “Mama, what’s going on? Why are you home? Why are you drinking?”
Her cheeks flush and I see the emotions on her face start with anger and morph into remorse and guilt. Mama’s voice cracks when she whispers, “Riley, I got fired today.”
“What?” Her words don’t make sense. “Why?”
I grip Jordan’s hand tighter and we take seats at the table with her. I sit next to Mama, trying to understand how this could’ve happened. Yes, Mama has lost jobs before, but this one seemed so steady. She’s been there for a while and she works so hard. How could she have been fired?
“I’ve been missing a lot of work lately. When I should’ve been at the office, I’ve been meeting with Mr. Masters or Stacia to ask questions. I even went to talk to Vega.” She puts her head down on her arms. “I hoped I could make him see, but all he would say was that he was looking into it. I know what this has been doing to you, Riley, and I wanted to find a way to make it easier on you somehow, but instead I’ve lost my job … again.”
Then I reach down and lift the towel so I can see the contents of the box beside her. It holds pictures of the two of us, a purple stapler, a file of papers, and a silver nameplate from her desk.
I curse quietly and release Jordan’s hand so I can hug her.
“Language, young lady,” Mama snaps before wrapping her arms tight around me. In that moment, she looks more like herself than she has since the day Valynne Kemp was killed—and I’m surprised how incredibly relieved I feel to have the real Mama back, for however long she stays. When she pulls away, she looks like she’s composed herself a bit, but I still see tears in her eyes as they flit over to Jordan. “If you know who he is, why is he here?”
“He knows, Mama,” I reply clearly. She can make me feel bad about anything else she wants, but I will not let her make me feel bad about the only person I’ve ever let get close to me. “That night I was drunk, I told him about Daddy confessing.”
“I haven’t told a soul,” Jordan jumps in quickly, trying to reassure her.
Mama stares at me in shock like my words caused her physical pain. Then she scowls menacingly at Jordan. “And what’s he making you pay to keep this secret?”