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“He sold on the east side.” Did great, too. He moved up quickly. Had lots of contacts and, in the end, wasn’t a psychopath. One of those nice guys that could have done real things with his life.
Linus raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to catch up and my lungs constrict. “You want me to get arrested? He served two years next to Dad.”
“But when Travis was released, Ricky didn’t want him back as a seller. Too many eyes were on him and because Travis didn’t snitch, Ricky left him alone.”
I blink. Several times.
“It’s an option. You play it right, you could serve some time, not a lot, keep your mouth shut and if you just happen to mention to someone you’re Mozart’s daughter...”
Then the cops would always be watching me. If Mozart’s daughter had become a dealer, then they’ll think that maybe I’m trying to reclaim his glory and the moment I was released, I would be the equivalent to a rat in a science experiment maze. Ricky wouldn’t want me back because I would bring unwanted attention to his business, and he wouldn’t touch me if he thought there were eyes on me.
My blood tingles. This could work. I serve time, but I could stay in Louisville. I wouldn’t have to stop being me. I open my mouth to say something, but Linus turns his back to me and walks down the ramp. “Goodbye, Abby.”
“Bye, Linus,” I say softly, and he glances over his shoulder at me and winks.
Another piece of my previous life fades from view and I begin to contemplate jail.
Logan
Outside crickets chirp and a half-moon smiles down at us as I hug Mom goodbye.
“It’s late,” I say. “You can crash here if you want.”
Mom pats my cheek then with one hand tries to squish my cheeks together like she did when I was younger, but fails. “Your father isn’t the only night owl. I’m used to being up late myself.”
She lets me go and frees her crazy curly hair from her ponytail and ruffles it out. “I’ll text you when I get home.”
“Would you have a problem with it?” I ask. “Me dating a girl who sold drugs?”
Mom tilts her head in amusement and I give a short laugh. Of course she wouldn’t.
“As long as she made you happy. That’s all I want, Logan, your happiness.” Mom’s gaze becomes far-off as she looks over my shoulder. “I want his happiness, too.”
She’s watching Dad. He’s in our garage with the hood up on his truck.
“I did him wrong and I regret it,” she says. “Be careful of whose hearts you play with, including your own, there’s some damage that doesn’t heal.”
A lot like the hole that will be left in my heart when Abby leaves.
She blinks then smiles like she didn’t just say something deep. “You’re going to stay with me when you go to school in Louisville, right? Don’t be stubborn and make the thirty-minute drive here.”
“I’ll stay with you some.” And I’ll also drive home to Dad’s. I love my mom, but I also like real food.
“Good. While you’re staying with me this year, I think I’ll be taking a man hiatus. Sort of like a cleanse. I think it’s time I figure out who I am without one.” She explains this all with a smile on her face, but there’s hurt in her eyes.
“Don’t have to do it on my account.”
The smile wanes. “I’m doing it for me. I’m tired of being alone. Even with someone in my bed, I’m tired of being alone.”
Not sure what to say to that, I hug my mother, long and hard. She kisses my cheek, and without another word, slips into her car and drives off. Her red taillights disappear around the long winding curve of our gravel drive.
Exhaustion from the past few days weighs me down, but I head to the garage regardless. Dad’s got a wrench and he’s doing something to his carburetor. We’ve spent countless hours in here since I was a kid after Mom left. We fixed cars, refrigerators, window units, washing machines, and even took a crack at a broken iPod.
At work he makes things. Out here he fixes things. Never buys new. Keeps things running longer than their expected shelf life, maybe even when it’s time to give up. He tried to make a life for him and my mom and it didn’t work. He couldn’t fix her. He couldn’t fix me. Maybe it’s time to fix himself.
“Mom says she’s taking a guy hiatus when I start school,” I say.
Dad’s eyes flicker to me from the belly of his truck. “That should be interesting.”
