Page 181 of Devil’s Disciples

I cried until I was exhausted. Somehow, I eventually managed to stand. With swollen eyes and an aching heart, I glanced around the empty home. I couldn’t imagine sleeping in the bed without him at my side.

I fell asleep on the couch fearing I’d never be able to return to that bed.

Or, to Cash.

70

Cash

On my back in bed – staring at the ceiling – I held the phone far enough away from my ear that her voice wasn’t deafening. Being shouted at by a woman wasn’t on my list of favorite things to do, but I learned early in life to allow it.

“Tell me he’s going to be okay,” she said.

“They said he’ll be fine,” I said. “It’s mostly dental work.”

“You and those boys were always acting the maggot in school, but I never thought you’d do something so savage to anyone close to you,” she said, her voice thick with her Irish heritage. “Brock Cashton. I’m ashamed of you.”

“I’m ashamed of me, too, Ma.”

“You’re not a bogger any longer. You could get away with your foolishness here, but in the city, it’s different. If you end up in real trouble, I’ll come down there and give you a clatter myself. It’ll take more than a dentist to fix it, too. Don’t think I won’t.”

“I know you will.”

“Did Graham put you up to this?” she asked. “He was always a cute hoor, that one. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“It wasn’t Baker, Ma. I did it on my own.”

“Care to tell your mother why you’re always a feckin’ chancer?”

“I’ve been seeing this girl, and she--”

“You’re what?” she shrieked. “You’re courtin’?”

“Not really.” I sighed.

“I nearly had a heart attack. Who is she?”

Considering her degree of excitement, I didn’t have the heart to tell her Kimberly wasn’t speaking to me. Hoping that repair of my relationship was possible, I decided to explain who Kimberly was as if she were still active in my life.

“I’ve been seeing her for about a month,” I said. “Both of her parents passed from a car wreck ten years ago. She doesn’t have any family here, but she’s got some in Texas. She’s beautiful, smart, sweet, and she’s a great cook.”

“You need to bring her to meet your mother. I’ve been here on me tod since you left.”

“Ma, I’m trying to tell you what happened.”

“And, I’m trying to listen to you.”

“This new guy, he’s always getting drunk and saying dumb shit. This girl I’ve been seeing is biracial. Her father was black, and her mother was white. This new guy found out, and he called her a nigger. That’s why I hit him.”

“Brock Cashton!” she bellowed. “You can’t beat sense into someone. He’s entitled to his opinion no differently than you. You don’t have to agree with how he thinks, but beating him over his belief makes you the worse man…”

“Ma, he--”

“Houl yer whisht,” she snapped. “I wasn’t finished speaking.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“If he believes the color of her skin makes her different than him, all you can do is show him he’s wrong. Is she a good woman?”