Page 18 of Beyond the Stix
“I just lost my brother,” he snarls at my mother.
“Step back from her,” Fig growls, but it’s John who steps between them.
“That’s alright, John.” She pats his arm, though she’s visibly shaking. “Jess, I just lost my husband. I don’t know what’s going on between you and Connor, but this isn’t the time for it,” Mom says with indignation. “This is my house, and that’s my son. And I want you to leave. We can all talk after our tempers calm. But not before that.”
That’s a first. My mother has always been even tempered, but not now. As she wraps her thin arms around herself, her glare never leaves Jessup’s face.
Guilt cuts me to the core at seeing her, bone-weary and grieving for her husband—yet here she is, defending me. Whereas I am throwing a fucking pity party for one.
My mother doesn’t deserve this crap now—not when she is suffering the loss of the man she loved.
It’s time to face Jessup, before this shit gets out of hand.
“Wait,” I call down.
“Connor,” John warns.
“It’s okay, John.” I climb down, all the while keeping my gut from spewing. I take one somewhat calming breath, wipe some of the Styrofoam balls from my face, and look at my uncle. “I just want to get this over with. Mom, why don’t you head inside. I’ll be in in a minute.”
“Are you sure, Connor?” she asks, frowning at her brother-in-law.
“Yes. This will be quick.”
She nods, and then walks back into the house.
With John and Fig flanking me on both sides, I glare at Jessup. “Say what you got to say to me and then get gone, because I don’t ever want to see you again.”
Jessup takes a tentative step toward me, but John gets in his path. “Stay where you are.”
Defeat burdens my uncle’s shoulders. They slump, as tears well up in his eyes. “I’m sorry it took me this long to approach you, but Markus said…” he clears his throat and shakes his head. “Anyway, I want to apologize for any misunderstanding we had in the past. And to tell you, I’m sorry. If you need me—even if it’s just to talk, I’m here for you.”
“I don’tneedyou,” I say defiantly, not trusting those tears or him. “And there’s no misunderstanding from the past. I know what you did to me and I will never forget it.”
“What are you talking about?” John ask me while keeping his full attention on Jessup, whose face is stricken with what? Guilt? Fuck that.
I ignore John’s question and turn back to Jessup. “You said what you needed to say, so go, and don’t come back.”
“Connor,” John growls low. He wants me to answer him, but there’s no way I can speak the truth. I refuse to look at John, as shame crawls up from the dark pit inside me and wraps around me like poison ivy. I’m just thankful my mother isn’t out here towatch. She has enough to deal with, and to add shit from the past will only pile more hurt on her already-burdened shoulders.
I finally look at John and say, “It’s nothing.”
“Iwant to know.” My mother steps out of the shadows, and her appearance spikes up my fear. Her steps are unsteady as she walks toward me, and Fig moves toward her. “Connor, what’s this about?” she asks, then stares at her brother-in-law. “Is this still about the slap in the face you gave Connor when he was ten years old?”
My uncle turns toward my mother. “Y-yeah,” he utters before returning his attention to me. “We’ll talk later, once the funeral is done.” He strides away hurriedly.
“No, we won’t,” I bark out.
“I deserve an explanation,” my mother insists to me. “Is it still about that slap, Connor? Or is it the same thing your father wouldn’t tell me?”
What the hell? What did Dad know?
I shake my head. “It’s about the slap. And it’s the past, Mom. I want to keep it there.” I let out an exhausted breath. “I’m going to bed.”
She steps closer, and begins to laugh. A light tinkle of sound that has me losing some of my frown.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, glancing over at John, who’s studying me like I have warts all over my face.
She raises her hand, runs her fingers through my hair, and they come away with tiny white balls. “You have Styrofoam balls all over you.” She chuckles. “We’ll be finding them for weeks.”