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23
Luxury
Completely still, I listen to the sound of the same voice that encouraged me to transition from training wheels to a friggen Radio Flyer bicycle. The damn thing had pink tassels and everything. The same voice that soothed my tattered heart after a bad day at school. But today, Uncle Red’s voice tightens as he says, “A few months before it happened . . . Gina was at my favorite restaurant. Ya know the one, Luxxie? Where I always met you around the corner from NYU?”
My psyche’s bombarded with questions, such as had her being at the restaurant placed her in Eugene’s path. Had I caused this? But I slow down the feelings of guilt ready to bulldoze me away and reply, “Yeah, I told her about the fresh pasta.”
“She was sitting alone when I walked in—went for my usual table. And you know your momma, damn near cursed me out, made like I thought she had the plague if I didn’t sit with her.”
Burt snorts. “Cheeky like her daughter.”
“Cheeky, for damn sure. Gina was the whole package.” Uncle Red nods. “All during our lunch together, I was self-conscious, and she was arguing with me for avoiding her. Counting up all my infractions over the years. I’d sat in the seats on the opposite side of the stadium during your high school graduation. She had a whole list.”
Although he’s complaining like Momma would, I slide back into my chair, captivated by the look in his eyes. It’s like watching a widower irritated by their departed lover's bad habits, but only because they’re distraught that they cannot hold that person close anymore. You can tell they’d take the bad habits every day of their life if it meant more time with the one they adore.
“While Gina nitpicked me during theentiremeal, I couldn’t even explain that I was respecting your parents after . . . well . . .” Uncle Red shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
After Dad had your laboratory set on fire.
Uncle Red’s enthralled by the past and continues. “We walk out of the restaurant, and here comes the second round of Gina laying into me! She says we can get the same Uber. That she’d walk the few blocks—”
“Home? A few blocks?” I gasp.Oh, Momma, always exaggerating.
“That’s what I said. So, in the middle of getting my ass handed to me—verbally—the Uber driver’s uncomfortable, and I’m offering for her just to take the damn car. Then she’s crying, saying she’s lonely. I couldn’t make her walk.”
Oblivious, Burt mutters aloud, “Oh? So, the two of you rekindled the old flame?”
Always lost in literature, Burt’s ears burn as he realizes he’s spoken out of turn. Like me, he’s enraptured with Momma’s love story.
Uncle Red goes quiet, not willing to admit it. Shit, Dad called Momma every disparaging synonym available once he knew thatI knewshe cheated, despitehisinfidelity. And here my fake uncle is, too damn humble.
With a bittersweet smile, I chime in, “I saw a difference in Momma a little while beforeithappened. She was always harping that I should get rid of Arnold. I can pretty much pinpoint the week she snagged you at the restaurant. You saved me from herwisewrath.”
“Yeah,” he mumbles the precise day they met.
“Heh, Momma was deliberate then. Dad was exceedingly busy with Greco Technologies—that’s the story they both fed me. Momma was depressed. I think she always was but had learned to feign contentment when I told her you didn’t love her.”
He huffs.
“She tried to be a good wife. Dad? Not so much. He gave the same excuses until I saw a change in her for the better. I always assumed it was the house they found.”
“Oh, thatdreamhouse.” Uncle Red sighs. “Your momma was telling me that Jonah wanted to buy them a house on account of her walking in on him video chatting with his secretary.”
I chuckle softly. Still, Uncle Red hasn’t bad-mouthed Dad, and I can read between the lines.How much clothing did the bitch have on during the video chat?I chortle. “So, he suggested a house to the wife he refused to let go.”
“She was gonna go all right. Prettiestpettiestwoman I ever met.” Uncle Red runs a hand over the back of his neck, a contented smile flitting over his face. “I called her Ms. Petty—for finding the grandest house. She laughed and said he’d be stuck in escrow, and she’d be long gone.”
“But she never left?” I shrug, mind reeling.Would I be contemplating a Mother’s Day flower arrangement if she’d left? Would Momma have grown fond of Victor? WouldIhave even met Victor?
“Ms. Petty wanted to wait for the convention. Your momma knew Jonah planned to attend with another young woman—probably the one he promised to stop seeing while groveling and offering her the house. Gina said she always wanted to leave him while he was out doing God knows what at one of those damned conferences.”
She kinda got her wish. She died the weekend of one.
“I came by that day to help your momma with her luggage. She hadn’t even started packing.” Uncle Red’s entire facade goes smooth with pleasant thoughts.I know that look.
Dad cheated with younger women, but I’ve never seen a man look so young as I do now.They...evened the score, fooled around in my parents’ home.
“Hence the DNA,” Burt suggests while I blink away the feeling of Momma’s still, lifeless body as I held her.
