Slice of the Pie

by Maxwell Miller

  “How long have you lived there?” she asked.

  “I, uh, well, I kind of moved in a few months ago. But I have been kind of living here off and on. I actually didn’t take the sign from the property management company out of the yard until, what, a week or two ago? I’ve been transitioning over from, uh, my other place,” he said.

  “So, Ben, where, exactly, is this other place?” Becca asked. She squinted and cocked her head, looking at the man. Upon further examination, he seemed to be younger than his mid-twenties. If she’d had to guess, he appeared to actually barely have even reached the legal drinking limit. She immediately became suspicious. How was it that a child could afford the rent on a house? In her neighborhood? Becca wasn’t rich by any stretch of the imagination. But she also didn’t live in the worst area. It was a desirable block. Decent schools, mostly owner-occupied, low crime.

  “I lived with my mom, okay? And if you’re going to ask, my mom pays the rent here right now. She said she needed space. I’m supposed to try and get a job. But I grow extra weed for her. Because of the limits on how much each person is supposed to be allowed to cultivate or whatever,” he said. Then Ben blushed. “I never said that,” he said.

  Becca smiled. She chuckled. Shaking her head, she raised her hands, palms-out, in a placating gesture. “Don’t worry. I could care less about any side business. Red tape does more harm than good, in my experience,” she said. Then she stared into Ben’s face. “Say, your mom isn’t Saffron, is she?” Becca asked.

  Ben paled at the mention of his mother’s name. He seemed genuinely surprised to encounter another human who actually knew of his mom’s existence. However, after his initial shock wore off, he nodded.

  “Ben’s a pretty tame name for someone like Saffron,” Becca said, disguising the wry smile that wanted to form as the observation eloped out of her mouth.

  “I think she figured out that I might get picked on out here if I had some hippie name. I don’t know what you know about my mom or what you have against her, but she’s a great mom. A great person,” Ben said.

  “You know, I’d probably say that, too, if my mom were the one paying all of my bills,” Becca said. “You need a job? You seem to be okay with gardening. How about I give you a chance? Something to build your resume, at least. My son-in-law is out on paid leave,” she said, not sure how she maintained a straight face at the blatant half-truth. “I’m also away from the business for a while, so we could probably use the help,” she said.

  “That because of the dead body?” Ben asked, his tone even. He planted his hands on his bony hips and glared at her. “I mean, is this some kind of cruel joke? Did my mom put you up to this?” he asked, his words stumbling over each other.

  Becca shook her head. She held up three fingers, with her thumb reaching across her palm, touching her pinkie. “Scout’s honor,” she said. “No joke. Really. And, yes, it’s partly because of the dead body. Which, by the way, how did you even manage to hear about that?” she asked.

  “I should probably go inside. I’ll talk to you later,” Ben said suddenly, his entire demeanor transforming abruptly. He moved with an urgency that seemed indicative of something. Retreating down the cobblestone path toward the open front door, he slammed it behind him once safely inside.

  Left with only the uncomfortable silence left by his sudden departure, Becca looked down at the odd plants. There had to be something important about them. Staring intently, bothered by the whole encounter, she decided to pull out her phone and snap a picture. The fact that the boy had been using gloves and used such elaborate safety procedures with them seemed to communicate something. Becca wasn’t exactly sure what, but she assumed it wouldn’t hurt anything to have a visual reference. Or evidence, she couldn’t help but think.

  After securing several decent photos, Becca sighed and cast one last glance toward the shut door of her neighbor’s property. She briefly entertained the notion of calling Saffron. But then Denise burst out of the house, yelling and whining about who knew what. “Hello to you, too,” Becca said, laughing as she waved away her daughter.

  “Mom, we’re STARVING,” Denise said.

  “Excuse me, but aren’t you an adult?” Becca asked, raising one eyebrow. “No, don’t give me that,” she said, wagging one finger in an admonition. “I pay for your soon-to-be husband to sit on his butt in the house all day. And what is it you do? Sorry, but you can at least order your own food,” she said, moving toward the house. “I hate to say it, but you’re on your own tonight. I am beyond exhausted. And I’ve got WAY too much to think about right now,” she said.

  Once inside, Becca marched straight into the kitchen, where she drank wine straight from the bottle. She widened her eyes and levied her best, most stern mom stare at her daughter as the adult woman watched with horrified fascination. “It’s a wonder I didn’t develop a drinking habit long before tonight,” she said.

  “That’s horrible, mom,” Denise said.

  In response, Becca took another hearty swig. “I might have to get one of those hats you kids wear. Just put a juice box in each side? Maybe I’ll just go and get an IV drip,” she said, only half-joking. With her being stalked, threatened, nearly thrown in bed with Lawrence, and then confronted with an odd new neighbor belonging to the only legitimate cannabis seller in the county, she’d had a day for the ages. And if she wanted to imbibe wine straight out of the bottle, she would.

  “Is it that bad? Please just tell me you won’t start smoking again,” Denise said.

  “That all you care about?” Becca asked, laughing. “Honey, I promise I won’t start smoking again. I can barely afford you now. What do you think would happen if I started smoking?” she wondered aloud. “Then again, it might be enough to get you out of the house,” Becca said, suddenly enjoying the idea a little more. Placing a finger on her chin, she adopted as serious a pose as she could muster. “Now, if you stopped being a house mouse and contributed at least a third of the rent, I’d save…” she counted with her fingers. “I’d save about six hundred a month. If I went to the reservation once a month, it’s… forty bucks a pack, I think. Does that sound right? Forty for ten, so $120 a month,” she said.

  “You HAVE to be joking,” Denise said.

  “Well, you have to admit, a hundred or so bucks a month for peace of mind isn’t such a bad thing, is it?” Becca asked.

  “Straight savage,” David said, poking his head out from around the corner. Shirtless, he wore a white towel wrapped around his waist. Dew droplets clung to the top of his head. He kissed the back of Denise’s head and then disappeared.

  Casting a perturbed glance in her fiance’s direction, Denise grunted. Then she returned her focus back to her mom. “I’m starting to get a little worried about you, mom,” Denise said, nodding in the direction of the wine and raising one eyebrow.

  “You’re just worried because you don’t have me at your beck and call,” Becca said. “But thank you. I do appreciate your concern,” she said, softening her tone. She took a step forward suddenly and opened her arms, embracing her only child. “I hope you know I love you. I happen to think you’re very cool.”

  Squirming, Denise suddenly started trying to get free. “Ew, mom,” she said. She pushed Becca back. Blushing, the barely grown woman glued her eyes to the floor. She remained silent for several seconds. Finally, she expressed whatever boil had been burdening her soul. “If there were something wrong, would you tell us? I mean, I know we’re just dysfunctional kids living at home, but David is really smart and tough. You know? He made it through basic or whatever they call it. And he got an honorable discharge. And I almost made it through college,” she said.

  “You really should go back,” Becca said. “You’re smart enough.”

  “Yeah, I want to. But it’s just so hard. I’m still getting used to this whole thing. Bend is way different than Dallas,” Denise said.

  “I know that’s right,” Becca said. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she stared at he
r daughter. Burdened by her newfound knowledge of the evil that existed in the world, she needed to tell Denise something. Not just for her own mental health, but also because, deep down, Becca believed that Mario really just might cause harm to Denise or David. Confronted by that brutal truth, she had to acknowledge the corollary. That she might not be around to protect them if that unfortunate possibility ever became a reality.

  Taking a deep breath, Becca carefully weighed her words. “I can’t tell you everything. And, gosh, this is going to sound weird. How do you tell someone not to panic? It always has the opposite effect. But, you know, right now, it’s all I got. So, yeah. Don’t panic when I tell you what I can tell you,” she said. She looked deep into her daughter’s concerned eyes as she waited for any sign of dissent. Deriving confidence from the fact that her little girl had the ability to display maturity when needed, Becca went on. “As you know, I’m investigating, uh, a dead body,” she said.

  “A murder,” Denise said.

  “No, not a murder. At least, not yet. Not officially. But I guess it’d be useless to try telling you that that wasn’t part of what I’m trying to figure out. It definitely could be a murder. And, if it is, that just means there is an enhanced element of danger to what I’m doing,” Becca said. She held up one hand to ward off any further interruptions. “Don’t worry. Okay? As much as that is possible, anyway. Look, for right now, what I’m saying is I need you to grow up a bit. Act like the adult you are. I know it’s hard. I know you’re concerned. I know there wasn’t much warning. Okay? I really understand. But try to look at it from my perspective. Put yourself in my shoes. Do you think this is easy for me? I woke up thinking everything would be just business as usual. Then… THIS,” she said.

  Taking another deep breath, Becca fought for control of herself. “The wine is having an impact,” she said, smiling. “What is important is that we all try to get through this together. Does that make sense? Denise, you are a smart, capable individual. I have every faith in your ability to fend for yourself for a few days. You survived life with your dad for years,” she said.

  “I ate a lot of generic pop tarts and frozen nuggets, too,” Denise said, smirking.

  “Well, if that’ what you need to revert to, I need that right now. Because I have to focus on this investigation,” Becca said.

  “Is this going to be your new job?” Denise asked.

  Pausing, Becca wondered about that. At that moment, she hoped not. But something about the thought- which had never occurred to her until brought to her by her own flesh and blood- held an enticing allure. She really enjoyed the idea. She could easily visualize herself as a professional private eye. Throw “discrete inquiries” onto a frosted glass door and go for it. But she shook her head. It was all just an elaborate, albeit attractive, fantasy. “No, sweetie. I highly doubt it. What would I do with the Three Sassters?” she asked.

  “Okay, well, I think you have something else to say. You always get like this when you’re worried. And I don’t think you’re very worried about me on my own. I know you, mom. You’d have no qualms about ordering me to just go get a job. And if you really were mean enough about it, you know I’d go drive Ubers or something for a few months to get you off my back,” Denise said.

  Becca smiled fondly. “Do you remember that one summer, where I made you go do the summer camp? You HATED it,” she said.

  Denise nodded. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Out with it. What’s worrying you,” she said.

  “Oh, Denise. You’re too smart for your own good. Look, this whole thing could be dangerous. With a capital d. Okay? Am I conveying that appropriately? There might be a day when not only you and David are in danger, but when I can’t be here to protect you. THAT IS WHAT’S WORRYING ME. So, please, just get your stuff together and act like an adult for once. And see if you can say anything to get through to David that there are people in the world who need him… that, yes, bad stuff happened and it’s not pleasant to think about, but sometimes, you just have to try your best to deal with that guilt and fear so that you can become a functional adult again…” Becca said.

  “Mom, he has PTSD,” Denise said.

  Becca wiped a hand across her face. She sighed. “I’m sorry. I am. But, nonetheless, it’s true. I could have been more sensitive about it. Okay? But, really, if he were up and at ‘em, I’d have a great employee. Or he could do something else. He’s a smart, well-trained, tough young man. Honest and loyal, too, which is something that’s getting harder and harder to find these days,” she said. “He could be making good money working at the mills or something, Denise. It’d be good for him, good for you, and good for me,” she said.

  “Yeah, but it’s not that easy, mom,” Denise said, growing more and more defensive as the seconds passed.

  “Well, don’t they have a group meeting? I mean, I know the VA hasn’t been the most helpful, but there are tons of places out there practically begging to support vets. Everyone- well, practically everyone- understands the sacrifices David made. We all appreciate that. Immensely. No one is trying to say that David, or anyone with PTSD, is bad or anything. Far from it. You think I would have ever just hired him simply because he’s your boyfriend?” Becca asked. Then she wagged one finger. “Don’t answer that,” she said.

  Suddenly, David popped his head around the corner again. This time, however, he was dressed, which was a welcome relief. But with the old, long-sleeved Nirvana t-shirt he also wore a rigid frown. His brow furrowed as he stared hard at Becca for a few seconds. Then his demeanor softened instantaneously. “Chill out, D. Seriously. Your mom means well. I know she does. And… she’s right. You both deserve better. I need to find a way to get my head out of my butt,” he said.

  Tears sprang to Becca’s eyes as she watched her daughter and future son-in-law share an intense embrace. She sniffled and wiped her cheek as she waited for the right moment to speak. When it came, she reluctantly seized it. “David, I, uh… well, I hope it’s not rude or anything, but I happened to stumble upon some random guy… really weird one, in fact. He, of all things, runs a little bait shop masquerading as a gas station. Out in the boonies, by a forest where I like to hike. Anyway, uh, well, I didn’t reveal anything about you, no particulars or anything. But, you know, I know you have a hard time talking with people who’ve never really shared your experiences. And I understand how important it is for you to be able to talk through things in your own way and in your own time. So, basically, uh, what I’m saying is, there’s a combat vet nearby who seemed more than willing- enthusiastic, even- to do whatever is needed to help you,” she said, breathing heavily.

  “I, uh, I didn’t mean to intrude. Or imply anything. I know you’re tough. But I hate seeing you like this. And we all really may find ourselves in a situation where we need you, David. I’m investigating a murder and the guy I work for is a crime boss who threatened to kill me and blame it on Lawrence, and I know you wouldn’t want to talk with Tank, even though he’s a great guy, because he wasn’t infantry or whatever,” Becca said, beginning to ramble.

  She didn’t even realize what she’d said until she noticed the dramatic shift in David’s demeanor. Sniffling, staring through teary eyes at her future son-in-law’s frigid eyes and angry scowl, Becca knew instantly that she’d screwed up. Her stupid emotions. She wanted to try and backtrack. But she understood that it was already too late. The lion was already out of the cage.

  “Hold on just one second. Rewind to the part where someone threatened to kill you,” David said.

  “Uh, I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “But you did. So, since we’re all trying to be responsible adults here, I’d like to know more,” David said, his eyes angry slits.

  “It might be better if you didn’t know. Really, David. I don’t want you getting yourself into trouble,” Becca said, taking a step back and putting her hands up defensively, caught completely off guard by the sudden malevolence emanating from her future son-in-law. He was normally such a
good, quiet boy. But the velocity of his rage in the moment was a palpable force that sent her sprawling backward.

  “Shouldn’t that be my decision? I mean, seriously, were you not going to tell us? That is something that could impact us all, Becca,” he said.

  “Sweetie, maybe she’s right. I mean, it is scary. But this isn’t something you can just be crazy about,” Denise said, her tone tremulous. She kept glancing back and forth between her mom and her future husband, worry heavy in her eyes.

  “Get some of that weed of yours. You know what? I’m down for just about anything right now. What do you say we all just hang in the living room, take a chill pill? Huh? I mean, I was going to try and get some work done, but at this point, it looks like I’ll have to settle for damage control,” Becca said, shaking her head. “Me and my big mouth.”

  After several tense seconds, David finally, reluctantly turned and silently trod back to his bedroom.

  Chapter 17

  Becca giggled.

  Even though there wasn’t supposed to be much THC, the psychoactive compound in cannabis that caused the “mind high” many people desired, the legal marijuana caused her to feel giddy. She chuckled at everything. Even the thought of being threatened with murder by a literal mafia don made her laugh. Sitting on the couch, a wide, simpering grin covering her face, she rested one leg on the coffee table as she gently massaged Catterina’s purring corpus and tried to listen to David. He was telling a funny story about his time in the military. Something about a guy getting caught trying to stomp feces into a shower drain and the ensuing chaos.

  “Hey,” Becca suddenly said, interrupting David. She waved a hand in the air. “You two know anything about plants?” she asked.

  At first, she didn’t even know why she’d thought to bring that up. Especially in the middle of a rare war story from David. Usually, he was extremely reticent about his military experience. The things he’d seen and endured had obviously scarred him for life. But the cannabis had helped loosen him up enough to bring out the man’s many tales. It seemed almost a waste, spoiling the opportunity for no real reason.