Page 122 of Heavy
I’mso, sofucked.
I ring the doorbell at my mother’s place. I’d left my key in a rush to leave, not really thinking about it. Ronan was quiet the entire time I got ready, and it makes me sick leaving him angry with me. My dad would always tell me to never leave when you’re upset with somebody because you never know what could happen.
For a moment, I thought about telling my mom I’d need a raincheck, but I knew Ronan would just press me until I told him everything. In the end, I probably would’ve caved. Then I’d lose him, and I’m not ready for that.
Maybe my mom can help with the police. I was careful, making it look like an accident—every detail in place. I knew exactly what to do: cooking, moving the pot from the stove, but leaving the burner on by ‘mistake’. Then, just like clockwork, Gene called me after her shift. I let the conversation drag on longer than it should have. We’d left the window open for the cat, and the wind blew the curtain.
It caught the couch.
Then the faux fur rug.
I watched it, I should know. It rolled across the space so quickly once it had an ignition.
“Oh my god, Gene! The house!”
Closing my eyes as I feel heat building under my temples. Ronan is the only one that can see through my lies, and I feel it’s karma being a bitch.
Gene never saw through my lie.
My mom didn’t when I told her I had to move into the cabin.
The door opens suddenly, pulling me from my memories of the day that changed my life.
My mom, with her ashen blonde hair that’s nearly gray, smiles wearily at me. She’s got bags under her eyes and she looks like she’s been crying. I feel like I’m on my way there, maybe we can break down together.
How I even got into this position is her fault, yet I’m still empathetic to her pain. She didn’t deserve to fall into addiction, but I sure as hell didn’t deserve to suffer because of it.
“Hey, sweetheart. Come on in.”
I smile weakly at her, and nod, following her and down the hallway through the house.
“How’re you, Mom?” I ask, trying to keep up as we walk quickly into the dining room and then into the kitchen. She’s got two glasses, one already poured and the other empty.
“Not good.” She opens the fridge, and I settle onto the bench seat at the island. I glance outside; the sun is still high, and I see the trees we planted almost a decade ago, now mature enough to give the illusion of a forest.
My mom offered this house to me when she was ready to retire. Now, I’m hoping I can ask for the cabin instead. I feel like that suits me… and Ronan, more, if I can fix what I’ve done.
“When was the last time you saw Eamon?”
She pulls out a bottle of vino and pours me a glass. “A week ago.”
My eyes go wide. “Oh my god, and you’re just telling me now?”
“I was hoping it wouldn’t last.” She picks up her drink and takes a sip.
I, too, have to take one because I can’t believe she hadn’t called me earlier. Was this after Eamon came over to the cabin? Had he told Ronan something… wait…
“…it will hurt you in some way regardless, I’m sure.”
Had Eamon told him something was going on with him and my mom?
After taking another drink, I look back at her. One of her arms hugs around her slender waist, and it’s now I’m taking in her full appearance. It isn’t just her face that looks tired, but she’s… shaking. I’ve not seen my mom in sweatpants since I was in high school, and moreover, she’s wearing a beat-up shirt.
Silence hangs over us like a ghost, and we are defiling its grave. It’s waiting for the right moment to shout at us, showing us it’s here, and that we aren’t welcome.
“Mom?” I finally say.
Her eyes look distant as she stares through me.
