For You (The 'Burg #1)(168)
Then she said, “All right, Feb. That sounds fine.”
I gestured behind me with my head and said, “Let’s go.”
I released Colt’s hand but my eyes moved to his as I turned to the office. His face was still blank and stony, nothing there to read, giving nothing away. If he looked at his mother like that, it was a wonder she didn’t run out the door.
I walked to the office and Mary followed me. Standing by the desk, looking awkward and out of place, her hand clamped around her purse strap and clenching it convulsively, she gave me her phone number while I wrote it on a pad on the desk.
When I was done writing the number, I straightened but saw she was looking at the closed door.
Then she turned back to me and, hand still clenching and unclenching her purse strap, she said in a rush, “I heard you were interviewed by the FBI. I heard your ex-husband was killed in St. Louis. I heard the police were at your apartment. I heard Chip Judd’s been workin’ at Alec’s place, puttin’ in a system. I heard a lotta things, February.” Her eyes were getting bright and I could see the whites of her knuckles, she was clenching her purse strap so tight. “He lied to me out there, Alec did. You’re not safe.”
“We’re fine, Mrs. Colton.”
“You’re not safe.”
“We’re fine.”
She shook her head, the movements quick and erratic, then she stopped and said, “I done him wrong.”
She was right about that so I kept quiet.
“I know I did. I know. My boy,” she whispered the last two words, did those head shakes again and her eyes got brighter, “he always…” she started then stopped then started again. “You were… you meant the world to… he and you…” more head shakes and then she said, “he got you back and you’re not safe.”
“We’re just fine, Mrs. Colton.”
The tears hit her eyes but didn’t spill over, just shuddered at her lower lids, the overhead lights illuminating them so much they shone, and she stared at me, her eyes never leaving mine.
Then she whispered, “You’re lyin’ too.”
I had no response because she was already turned and walking to the door. I followed her out and she walked to Colt. She didn’t do it quickly, she did it hesitantly, guarded, like she was ready to bolt if he made a lunge.
“I hope you call, Alec,” she told him and quickly looked at Mom, not wanting to give Colt the chance to respond, knowing if he did what he’d say she wouldn’t like then she said softly, “I’m sorry, Jackie. You’re right, I know, I have a nerve and I know you won’t believe this but I was just worried about your girl and my boy.” Then before Mom could speak, she scurried quickly out the door, still clutching her purse.
The minute the door closed, a murmur of conversation hit the bar and I looked up to Colt to see he was staring at the door.
I grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “You okay?”
He looked down at me and gave my hand a tug, bringing me closer. “This happens from time to time.”
“It does?”
“You okay, dude?” Morrie asked from behind the bar.
“Yeah, Morrie,” Colt replied to my brother but his eyes were on my mother. I looked to her and she still appeared fit to be tied.
“She knows you got trouble, she even said it, and she still waltzes in here –” Mom groused.
“Jackie, darlin’, leave it be,” Dad cut her off.
“Jackie, you know this isn’t a big deal,” Colt told Mom but he was lying, if it wasn’t a big deal, his hand would not nearly have broken mine. Twenty-eight years he’d been separated from his parents and that time had not diminished their power over his emotions.
Mom gave Colt a good long look, then her neck snapped around and she looked at Dee. “Delilah, make me a G and T and use a heavy hand.”
“I’ve never done a G and T,” Dee whispered to Morrie as Mom bellied up to the bar.
“Ain’t hard, babe,” Morrie said, turning toward the back wall filled with mirror-backed shelves of liquor and Dee’s eyes came to Colt and me.
“I don’t even know what a G and T is.”
“Gin and tonic, Dee,” I told her.
She nodded, lifted a hand and muttered, “Got it. I can do that, heavy hand,” and she turned to Morrie.
I looked back at Colt and prompted, “This happens from time to time?”
His hand came to my hip and brought me even closer as he leaned his back into the bar. “Last few years, every once in awhile. She’s been tryin’ to dry out.”
This was news.
“Tryin’?” I asked.
“She falls off the wagon a lot,” I nodded and he continued. “She’d come to the house.”
I put my hand to his chest and whispered, “Sorry, babe.”
“She usually needs money.”
“You give it to her?”
“Did in the beginning, or Melanie did. Melanie left, I kept up a coupla times, then quit.”
My eyes slid to the side, Mom was about five stools down, two of those taken by patrons who were pretending, badly, not to listen, but Mom also had Mom Hearing so I shifted to Colt’s side, my back to Mom and the customers and whispered low, “Mom know about this?”