Page 102 of Preacher Man

His tiny dancer had a lot to answer for.

And she would. Just as soon as he caught up to her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“God doesn’t give you the family you deserve. He gives you the ones to teach you to be strong in times of adverse weakness.” - Ruby.

Earlier that day.

"This is the last handout you get from me, Rita. I can’t keep doing it. I won’t."

She truly was the biggest pushover.

She'd given in like a sucker. Like she always gave in to Rita. Before she could go to the bus station she'd called her and asked to see Sebastian, it was only when Ruby had said she had money for Rita that her sister had invited her over. Predictable and hurtful, but Ruby had jumped at the chance to see her nephew.

"I swear! I won't ask again, sis. I promise." She grabbed the bundle of cash Ruby had drawn out of the hole in the wall, the last she had until pay-day and wasn’t that going to be fun, good thing she stocked up on tampons like she was training for the apocalypse. Her sister already mentally dismissing her turned and began walking down the hallway of her small two-story house.

Ruby could see her lie.

And it was more than probable going to go on drugs. Maybe Rita couldn't even recognize she was lying, she'd done it too often now. It fucking killed Ruby, you can't fix what someone doesn't see as wrong. There was a point in the lie you began to believe it, trust in it, and absolutely have faith that you were telling the truth. The sad fact was as much as Ruby cared for her sister she didn't trust anything she said anymore. All Ruby could do was change the pattern, she meant it, this was the last time, it had to be or they’d both end up destitute on the street, and what good was that for Sebastian?

Sighing, she closed the door to the living room and followed behind to the kitchen at the end of the house. It was a pokey house with even pokier rooms, but given some love, it could be lovely. Rita was not inclined to make her home better for herself or her son, she was too wrapped up in her own selfishness to care.

“Shall I make a coffee?” she asked.

“Hm? Oh. I’m out, sis. There’s juice in the fridge if you’re thirsty.”

“No. I’m good. Shall I pour juice for Seb?”

“Nah, he’s fine.” Rita was busy texting so Ruby opened the fridge, maybe she could start on food for her nephew. Besides a few beers and OJ, the fridge was empty. Same went for the pantry.

Dammit. Ruby could feel her anger rising. For fuck's sake, be irresponsible with your own damn self all you want, but not taking care of your child that was sinking to low levels of shitty parenting.

“Rita, what’s for Seb’s lunch?”

“Hm?” Finally, she deemed Ruby a second of her time, glancing up from the phone, her sister’s dyed light brown hair caught over one shoulder and her eyes unfocused. She wanted to believe that one day Rita would get her shit together, be a good mom, a decent human being, but then Ruby was a realist and knew her sister. If you looked up self-absorbed in the dictionary there was a picture of Rita. Beautiful and selfish.

“Oh. He’s fine for now, sis. He ate a bit ago.” She replied noncommittally like she had no fucks to give that her son wasn’t having lunch or that there was not a scrap of food in the fucking house. What did he eat, fresh-fucking-air? Her lackluster response caused Ruby’s spine to tighten, she was biting her tongue so damn hard she tasted coppery blood, frustration flaring her nostrils.

With only her bus ticket and twenty dollars in her purse she was out of options here, Ruby stepped across the kitchen. “Give me twenty bucks of that money back, I’ll run and grab some groceries.” She offered lightly, knowing if she sounded in any way like she was giving her sister a lecture it would erupt between them, Rita didn’t like the truth being handed to her.

“What?” Rita embedded slivers of glass in that one word.

Be civil. Ruby warned. Don’t knock the fucking self-serving look off her face.

It was hard.

“You need groceries. I can run to the store before I catch my bus.”

She watched Rita’s eyes narrow, she popped up from her chair and glared so cold if Ruby was of a mind to care about what Rita thought she would have been chilled to the bone. As it was, she herself was fuming for that little boy in the next room who was playing so quietly she didn’t even know he was there. What four-year-old doesn’t make noise? She wondered. One who was conditioned to not make a fucking noise. She’d only been at Rita’s house thirty minutes and twice she’d yelled at Sebastian to play in the other room.

What was he supposed to play with, he had a ball as far as she’d seen? That was it. No other toys littered around and when she’d used the bathroom upstairs she’d poked her head around his bedroom door, not one toy. So, on top of the zero groceries, she wanted to know what happened to all the gifts Ruby sent regularly for Seb.

She knew. Rita would have more than likely sold them. And her selfishness just kept on rolling. Ruby was going to have to call on Jesus, or something before she smacked the tan off her sister’s face.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Can you stop beingyoufor a fucking second, Ruby? I said we’re fine. I can get damn groceries later.”

“One of these days you’re going to have to be accountable as a parent. You have no food in the house, be pissed all you want, Rita, but stop neglecting that little boy, he doesn’t deserve it, now are you going to give me twenty fucking dollars back so I can grab some stuff for him?” She was done pussyfooting around.