Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
all so she could save her own ass.
CHAPTER NINE
Archer brushed his teeth over the white oval basin set on a tall, ribbed pedestal, with ‘Seven Nation Army,’ by the White Stripes, playing on repeat. He spit into the sink, chasing it down with water, and gave himself another once over. Noticing a bit of stubble, he lathered up his face with shaving cream, gripped a sharp razor, and went over his cheeks, jaws, and chin with care. After applying some deodorant and brushing his hair into place, he went to the bedroom and slipped into some dark ripped jeans and a long-sleeved black Polo. He sat on the side of the bed for a moment, taking deep breaths while old memories began to worm their way into his head. Ones he’d pushed aside with busy work. He ran from them once again, diverting his attention to something much more pleasing. Snatching his phone from the nightstand, he checked his cameras.
Monitoring his world wasn’t as streamlined on his phone, but it would do for the time being. He checked the warehouse where new shipments were coming in: Michelob Ultra, Keystone, and Blue Moon beers. That was a distraction for a while until his phone rang, reminding him that running was for athletes. The race stopped here.
“Hey…”
“Hey.” Mama’s voice was rich with strong drink and laden with years of cigarette smoke. “Long time no hear.” Feminine huskiness wrapped around a smoky chortle.
“Yeah… been workin’. Busy.”
“Workin’, huh? Times are good?”
“…Yeah.” He lay back on the bed and looked up at his vaulted ceiling. A circular skylight allowed him sight of the clouds floating above him.
“Too busy for your mother, too. I wanted to come by and visit you soon, James. It’s been a while. When can I see my son, huh? Does a mother really have to ask?”
He ran his hand along his freshly shaved jaw. The smoothness wasn’t any comfort as his tongue searched for the right words to say.
“I don’t know… been really busy,” he said again. “Wouldn’t be fair to have you holed up here by yourself. If you come to see me, then you should be able to do just that.”
“You make time for who you wanna make time for, James.” He heard the faint noise of the television, figuring she’d just turned it on during their conversation. Not surprising. When Mama got uncomfortable, she’d try to find something else to focus on. Something to divide her attention. Escapism. He did it too from time to time, though he was usually far more aware.
“Mama, I can be real with you… I can. I never want to hurt you, you’re my mother, but things are how they are.” He clung to the truth and hoped she would, too.
“Yeah. Things are how they are, but they aren’t how they have to be. I’ve loved you through my best and darkest hours, James.”
“I know you have, Mama. I know you have. I don’t blame you for nothin’ that happened. You had a bad hand dealt to you. Bad luck of the draw. Unfortunately me and Irish felt the brunt of that is all.”
“I can’t scrub away the past. I can only—”
“We lived with Dad at his parents’ house for a while after the state took us away from you, and I told you how that was… the sense of peace I had for just a short time… Just long enough to make me see that the stuff we were seeing wasn’t normal.”
“James, ain’t no sense in bringing up the past though, ’cause I can’t change it.”
“I don’t expect you to change it, Mama, and I told you I’m not even mad about it. But when you ask about why you can’t come around, it’s not because I’m holding a grudge. It’s because I don’t want you to do what you did last time, and the time before that. Take your pain out on me… I never once brought up the past to you, what me and Irish had to deal with. In fact, I spent a good deal of time not blaming you at all, ’cause I didn’t know any better. I’ve never given you any guilt trips or tried to make you apologize. Shit happens.” He shrugged. “The problem though is that you never wanted to talk about it back when I was ready. You would shut me down, just like you’re doing now, although again, I’m not even the one bringing it up. You are.”
“Yeah, ’cause I struggle with the guilt. I wasn’t in my right mind, but I fight with it. My kids were taken away from me, and then you went to live with my in-laws, Susan and Roy, and they were so damn religious and smug they wouldn’t let me see you. What a surprise when they found out their good ol’ boy wasn’t so damn golden after all.” She laughed loudly, as if reliving the moment of Dad’s demise was getting good to her.