Page 14 of Dirty Roulette
Chapter eight
Ryder
The house is still, with the blinds swaying from the fan blowing in the living room.
My mouth dries and my feet are lead as I walk along the tile floor.
It’s covered with dirty footprints from Charlie and Payton, running in and out of the house.
I peek out the patio door and spot the pool cover ripped off.
The water is quiet and neither of them are here.
Their towels hang on the wooden chairs by the dining table, littered with chip bags and empty soda cans.
A pot with macaroni scraps sits on the stovetop, and two bowls coated with dried cheese pile up in the sink with a mountain of other dishes.
Who knows where those two went now, but I’m a little bummed I didn’t catch Payton.
I’m still not sure what to do with her black undies that I shoved in my dresser at the house.
A plop breaks the silence in the kitchen.
The huge stack of mail on the kitchen counter tumbles like an avalanche, scattering across the floor.
Weeks’ worth of newspaper flyers and bills slide off each other, flipping and flopping one by one.
Then a fat yellow envelope catches my eye.
Kneeling, I grasp the envelope and open it.
The word DIVORCE was emblazoned across the top in bold letters.
Call a surgeon, because my stomach did a 180 – twisting itself into a knot.
What a way to end the summer with a bang.
I stand up, my knees popping. I chuck the papers to the counter with my lungs burning and run a hand along the crease of my neck.
The thought that I once admired my parents’ relationship before this is an absolute slap right across the face.
I only came here to gather the rest of my things, but trying to tiptoe around and pretend I saw nothing wouldn’t sit well with me. Mom hasn’t been herself. The gambling and random men she brings home... It’s filling some sort of void, and I guess I can’t blame her.
Grandpa passed from congestive heart failure, and Grandma died only days later from a sudden stroke. While my aunt drove four hundred miles to comfort her, a drunk driver ran a red light doing over seventy. She died on impact. My mom is the only one left on her side of the family.
They say death comes in threes, but their marriage decided to be the fourth. I never took him as the type of man to abandon a marriage of twenty-five years to find someone who isn’t damaged, but here we are.
The dull hallway is filled with crooked pictures of Charlie and me growing up. I reach the door to the master bedroom and crack it open. It’s pitch black inside the room, but the hallway light flows in to show Mom sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying.
“Mom,” I say, tugging the chain to her night lamp to turn it on.
I sit on the edge of the bed. She doesn’t respond, just stares at the wall, lost in her world of pain.
I don’t recognize her at this point. It’s like life is being sucked right out of her.
She’s not eating, her hair is thinning, and her skin is pale.
The Grim Reaper has her by the throat and she’s nothing but a shadow of her former self.
“Mom, we need to figure this out,” I say, struggling to keep a steady voice.
“I can’t do this for another four months.
” I stare at the pile of dirty clothes and the bedroom that has been left in shambles.
Coat hangers lay on the carpet near the walk-in closet, and it pains me to see it empty with nothing but socks and a few ties Dad left behind.
“HR put me on leave...” She visibly swallows. Dread prickles all along my arms. “There isn’t anything I can do. They are forcing me to see a doctor next month.” She cups her face with two hands and starts shuddering out a sob. “There’s no way I’m going back to work. They all think I’m bipolar.”
“You’re not bipolar.”
“They think I am. You should have seen how they all looked at me.”
“You probably should have taken time off sooner. None of this is your fault. How much leave have you accumulated?”
“My six weeks of bereavement are up, so... not much.”
“Well... I only make minimum wage and I can’t pack more than twenty hours on top of football, especially since it’s my senior year. Isn’t there some type of spousal support you can nail Dad for?”
“It has to go through the courts.” Her grey eyes meet mine, trembling. Even I am nervous – my foot is drumming the carpet below me. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, rubbing the side of her face with a hand. “I just... I don’t know what to do.”
“Going to the casino isn’t helping.”
“I know... my date paid though.”
“I’ll send you money to help pay the bills and call when I can.”
“Okay,” she gives me a frail smile and squeezes my knees to stop the jittering. “Can you take Charlie to the campus? I haven’t been able to keep anything down today.”
“Yeah, I’ll figure out where she’s at.”
“Thanks, I’m gonna get some water and go back to bed.”
She scoots off the mattress and pushes back her dark, matted hair. I slide the cell out from my pocket and dial up Charlie. It rings three times before I’m greeted with an annoyed sigh. “What do you want, heifer?”
“Look...” I pause a moment, the words chained to my tongue.
“What?” she asks.
I let out a deep breath before spitting out the bad news. “Mom’s not feeling good.”
“Oh...” The disappointment leeks off her sudden change of voice. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“I’ll load your stuff up tonight, but I have to head to work so I won’t be able to drop any of your bags off until tomorrow.”
“Okay... Well, I’m hanging out with some friends. So, I’ll talk to you later.”
“Is Payton with you?”
“No, her Mom took her to the dorm like two hours ago. Look... I gotta go.”
“Do you plan on coming back? You guys left the kitchen a mess.” The phone beeps in my ear as she hangs up without another word. I guess that’s a no, then.