“What aboutmydad?”
“Hmph. Good-for-nothing lowlife piece of shit. Be happy you never met his dumb ass. Died in ’89. Logging accident. Serves him right. If you ask me, he got what hedeserved.”
Carol was so shocked by her mother’s outburst that she didn’t know what to say. Her mom had wanted her, but couldn’t keep her because she didn’t even have enough money to pay for food. Was that the right thing to do? No. But she didn’t know all of the circumstances, so how could she fault her? Maybe if she could get more information, it would make some kind ofsense.
“Can I come in for a minute?” Carolasked.
“Why?” Suspicion clouded her palegreeneyes.
“I just have a few morequestions.”
After a dramatic sigh, Vicki held the door open. “Isuppose.”
As Carol stepped into the freezing cabin, she wrapped her arms aroundherself.
“Don’t have money for the heater, so I use the fireplace to keep warm.” Vicki plopped down in a rocking chair near thehearth.
Carol glanced around the sparse cabin. The front part of the house consisted of a small kitchen and living room. They didn’t have a wall separating them, making it one big room. A narrow hall ran into the back of the house, probably to the bathroom andbedroom.
An old tea kettle sat on a slightly rusted stove. Banged up pots and pans hung from nails in the wall. Everything looked fifty or more years old, including the rug in front of the fireplace. Carol sat on it, hoping it wasn’t flea-ridden.
“What would you want with a poor, broken old woman anyway?” Vickiasked.
“I thought maybe we could get to know eachother.”
“Not much to know other than what I already told you.” Vicki reached for a packet of cigarettes which sat on a small end table and pulled one out. “You doing okay foryourself?”
“I’mdoingfine.”
“Wish I could offer you something, but I got nothing left in mycupboards.”
“Nothing?” Carol asked. She’d known some pretty destitute people in New York, but they’d at least had a little food in theirkitchens.
“Empty. But I guess I can’t disappoint you more than I already have.” She shrugged and lit the end of thecigarette.
Carol wrinkled her nose. She’d always been repulsed by smoking. But it was her mom’s house, not hers, so she’d just have to dealwithit.
“I could go pick up some food for you,” Caroloffered.
“I don’t need yourcharity.”
“It’s not charity,you’remy—”
“Stop it! Stop saying that.” Vicki’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t a mother back then and I’m not one now. So just stop with that fake familybullshit.”
“I want to help. At least let me go pick up a bag of groceries for you,”Carolsaid.
“You really want to help me? Leave… and don’t come back. I don’t need a reminder of how I messed up your life. I know I screwed up and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it now. Not a damnthing.”
Carol stood and stared at her mother in disbelief. There was so much she still wanted to say, but the look on her mom’s face was enough to make her blood run cold. She turned and raced out of the house. Tears blurred the stairs, making her miss the last step off the porch. She stumbled forward intoHank’sarms.
Chapter4
“What happened?”Hank asked as he caught Carol inhisarms.
“She’s my mom, and she hates me,” shesobbed.
“Oh honey.” Hank stroked her head. “I don’t think shehatesyou.”
