Overtime(107)



Kacey’s mouth dropped and Jordie shook his head. “It’s my girlfriend.”

She paused. “Like a real girlfriend? You haven’t had one of those since what’s her name, the one whose boyfriend killed that kid you were friends with.”

“Angie, and his name was Robbie,” he said, looking up, a wave of guilt slamming into him.

“Yes, him. I saw his momma about two weeks ago. She still hates you.”

“Yeah, well, her son was killed acting in my defense. I wouldn’t care for me much either,” he said dryly and his mom made a noncommittal sound.

“Eh, yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said and he let out a breath as Kacey shook her head quickly, her anger radiating off her. “Oh, well, bring her too, I guess. If you think it will last, I guess I should meet her. I really don’t want to though. I’d like it to be just you, me, and Phil,” she said, and he didn’t miss the way she spoke louder.

“Fucking bitch,” Kacey muttered, standing up and folding her arms, looking down at him as he held the phone to his ear. He couldn’t look at her, not in the eyes. He knew she was mad, he knew she was probably disappointed in him, but he couldn’t just hang up.

“I don’t know, Mom. I’ll text you.”

“No, tell me now you’ll go,” she snapped, and he knew when he looked to Kacey, she’d be shaking her head no, so he looked at the floor.

“I told you, I don’t know. We will see,” he said as sternly as he could. “I have a lot going on,” he said slowly, hoping she’d ask what he had going on. But that would mean she was a good parent.

And she wasn’t. Not even a little bit.

“Well, cancel it. I’m your mother; you will be there to meet your new soon-to-be stepdad. I’ll send you the address and info as soon as I get it. Oh, Phil just walked in. Yeah, baby, it’s him. He says hi too! Okay, gotta run, bye, honey!”

And then she hung up.

No, “Can’t wait to see you!” No, “I love you!” No, “Fuck off.” No, nothing.

Closing his eyes, he let his head hang as he shook it. Why had he even answered the phone? He could feel Kacey’s hostility pouring off her, and when he looked up at her, her face was flushed and she was working her lip.

“Not right now, okay? I know she sucks, I know she’s a bitch, and I know I should have said no,” he said quickly, feeling like the weakest piece of shit in the world.

“You’re right, on all accounts,” she said before coming onto the bed and wrapping her body around his like a koala bear. “But I know it hurts.”

“It does,” he whispered, holding her arm as she held him. “I don’t want to go.”

“We won’t.”

“But she’ll find a way to me,” he said and she nodded.

“You need to tell her in person that she can’t do this to you anymore. That she needs to just stay away.”

“I know,” he said roughly. “But the shitty thing is, I still want to hear her tell me she loves me, that she’s proud of me, and that she cares. Not once did she ask about me.”

“Because she’s a poor excuse for a human, and if she hadn’t have had you, she would be on this earth for no reason,” Kacey proclaimed, hugging him tighter. “You are better than her, Jordie. So much f*cking better. You’d never treat anyone like she does.”

He paused, closing his eyes as more guilt washed over him. “I did, though. I used to do it to you,” he said softly, looking over at her. “What if I am like her?”

Taking his face between her hands, she shook him hard. “No, Jordie! You are not f*cking her! You get that out of your head right now. You hear me?” She was screaming, her eyes filling with tears. “No, no f*cking way. You are good. You are the most beautiful man in the world, and I f*cking love you. All of you. Even this shitty part of you that is basically a wound that she keeps stabbing at! You hear me?”

His eyes glazed over as he turned, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. Burying his face in her chest, he sucked in a deep breath, telling himself that he would never give his mom any more of his time. Kacey was right; he was nothing like her. He knew how to love someone, because he did it every moment Kacey was on his mind. But as much as he wanted to be strong, he wanted to brush her off, he wanted to let the pain she was causing him go, he couldn’t. His feelings and his pain were there, oozing and throbbing like a wound. A big, gaping wound that his mother stood above and poured salt into.

A wound he wasn’t sure how to close.

As soon as the thought came, he wished he could make it go away. But he could drown the wound and himself with whiskey in a second.

Everything would go away. He would be free of everything.

“It isn’t worth it,” she whispered, kissing his temple, and he looked up at her. “I can feel it, I can see it on your face. You want a drink but, Jordie, it isn’t worth it. The pain right now, yeah, it f*cking sucks. But afterward, when you disappoint everyone and possibly start losing people, you’ll look back on this pain and say, I’d rather have suffered that a bit, because this will go away,” she reminded him as her eyes burned into his. “Please, don’t think that is the answer.”

“I don’t want to,” he admitted. “But it’s so easy.”

Toni Aleo's Books