Page 9 of Ruled Out

When she’s this out of it, it’s normally thanks to booze on an empty stomach.

“Hmm … not—not so sure, baby.”

My heart drops at the thought of her being hungry and alone. The guilt of being in a different state, trying to live my life, feels overwhelming.

“Is there food for you to eat?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you go check while I’m on the phone, Mom?” I ask, but at this point, I’m pleading for her to go check.

“I’ll be fine. When are you coming back home? You weren’t here for the holidays this year. I miss you, Will.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to remind myself that she’s pissed. That she doesn’t realize she just called me by my twinbrother’s name—the only brother I ever had, who died a few days after birth.

“I’m Jessie, Mom. Will isn’t here, remember?” I whisper.

“I know you are.”

“I’ll be home when I can, but the season is pretty stacked right now.”

“We need some more money.” She changes course, sounding panicked.

Frustration gnaws at my insides. “Mom, I just sent you a ton last weekend.”

Over twenty thousand dollars. I know there’s no way she’s spending all this money so fast.

“It’s all gone.”

“Where?”

“Wayne,” she sobs. “Your dad, he took it. There’s nothing left in the account.”

I scratch my nails down the side of my face, my suspicions confirmed. “What about that account I opened for you? I put some extra in there to keep it away from him.”

“It’s gone. It’s all gone, gone, gone, gone, gone. GONE!” Mom wails down the phone.

I stand from the couch and walk over to the balcony doors, opening them before stepping outside. My apartment is on the third floor, and I watch as traffic and people race around below me, going about their everyday, normal lives.

“All right, I’ll wire you some more.”

“Another twenty?” she asks, but more like pleads.

“Yes. But if I send some extra on top, I don’t want you to tell Dad. Can you keep it away from him? He’s gambling it away almost as fast as I’m earning it.”

“Yes, I’ll try.”

“Okay, I’ll send it to your account. Get something to eat with it.” My voice cracks with the final words because I know whatever I send will end up with him.

I know that none of this is right. She shouldn’t still be with him; she should be here with me, somewhere safe and away from that life. But I can’t get her to see there’s a better life, out of the house, out of his grasp. Out of the bottom of a hole so fucking dark that even bugs don’t nest that deep.

“I will, baby. I promise.”

“I will, baby. I promise.”

“Promise, promise?”

“Promise, promise. We’ll head to the park right after Mommy takes a nap. We’ll get dressed and go out.”