This was so bad.
Reed turned his attention to his mom. She stood in the center of the room and barked at his dad with her face twisted into a knot. Her lips were a hot slash of pink as she jabbed a red fingernail at him,stabbing the air in time with her words. “You are unbelievable! Just unbelievable! How, Jack? How do you lose three jobs in a single year? For fuck’s sake, that has to be some kind of record!”
Dad sat on the couch and stared up at her with his face full of shock—eyes wide, lips parted, forehead tight.
“What thehellhappened this time?” his mom screeched. “Out with it already!”
His dad mumbled something in response, but Reed couldn’t hear it, could only stare at the pink strips of scalp shining through his thinning hair as he tilted his head forward and stared at his lap.
“What?” Reed’s mother spat. “Speak up!”
His father returned his watery red gaze to hers. “I said, it wasn’t my fault.”
His mother scoffed. “It never is. Let me guess—the bottle just shoved its way into your mouth again and forced you to take a drink.” She gazed at the three empties on the floor and then the fourth clutched in his dad’s hand. That was bad, too. He never drank in the morning.
His eyes flashed. “I wasn’t drinking!”
“That’s a first.”
“It was an accident.”
“Explain.” The way his mom said it—Ex. Plain.—in a slow growl, made it sound like she could barely squeeze the word past her teeth.
“I was backing up. There was a guy behind me. I didn’t see him. That’s it.”
Reed didn’t know much about his dad’s job except that he drove a forklift. He complained about it every night, said it made his back hurt. Reed didn’t understand that. How could it hurt his back? Didn’t the forklift do all the lifting for you? Either way, Reed knew enough to know hitting someone with it wasn’t good.
His mom set her hands on her hips. “You’re shitting me. You ran someone over?”
His dad gave her a single nod then returned his gaze to the floor.
“Unbelievable. Do you have any idea the number of strings I had to pull to get you that job?Anyidea? Max was the last one. I’m all out of favors, Jack. No one’s going to hire you now. Not after this.”
Reed knew his mother was talking about Max Tavish, the fat, bald man who never seemed to stop sweating and had eyes that looked like buttons. The only time they shined were when they looked at Reed’s mom. It was like she was a bowl of ice cream to him—something he wanted to eat up. Reed thought it was weird. His dad never looked at his mom like that. He barely looked at her at all. But whatever. Max owned the meatpacking plant where his dad worked and had given his dad a job, which made him nice. He was also rich. Everyone in town knew that. And that was a good thing. Reed had thought maybe he could help his dad get rich too, and then his mom could finally stop whining about money all the time.
“I’ll find something else,” his dad said.
His mom laughed—a strange sound that sounded more like a sneeze. “No, you won’t. When have you ever found a job on your own?”
“I’ll find one.”
“Who wants to hire a drunk?”
His dad shot up then, his face a deep blazing red like it had caught fire. He took a heavy step forward and shoved a finger in her face. “Call me a drunk one more time, Diane. See what happens.”
She gasped and skittered back. Reed had never seen his Dad hit his mom before. But it looked like he might now. He even had his hand raised like he was going to. But then Mom crouched and seized one of the empty beer bottles from the floor and raised it over her head. “Go on and try it! See what happens!” Her arm tensed, and Reed knew right then and there she’d smack his dad with it if he didn’t do something first.
He ran out of the hall toward her. “Mama, don’t!”
She hesitated, and when she turned toward him, her face lookedlike a witch’s mask. He let out a cry, the tears back. But then her face softened and Reed saw his mom again. His beautiful mother who read him stories about fuzzy creatures with horns that welcomed adventurous children to their island. Reed loved that version of his mother, loved the sound of her voice when she told him stories, loved her fingers ruffling his hair.You’re the best boy,she told him when she was in a good mood.
But even in those rare moments, when he caught her smiling down at him like she was the sun and he was her only flower, he recognized the statement for what it was: A lie. He knew he was different than the other kids his age. The kids whose moms actually loved them and sent them to school wearing nice clothes while his always had a bunch of stains and holes. The kids who never had dirt on their cheeks or bits of food stuck in their hair. The same kids who looked at Reed and laughed anytime he passed by. They knew what Reed really was: a loser. Just like his dad.
His mom sighed and knelt in front of him. “What are you doing out here, Reed?”
He couldn’t speak, not now that the tears had begun to flow.
“Go back to your room, okay?” she said in a tired tone.
