Florida Son

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Florida Son Page 18

by W. J. Costello


  Julie’s eyes went to Ross, then back to Ruth.

  “Does Ross know, Mom? Did you tell him about Moe?”

  “That’s the second reason why I asked him to come here tonight—to tell him what happened to Moe.”

  “Something happened to Moe?” Ross said.

  “He’s dead,” Ruth said. “Somebody shot him.”

  “He was shot? Who shot him?”

  “We don’t know.”

  It took a moment for it to sink in.

  Then he began to sob.

  Ruth rolled her wheelchair over to him and he sobbed on her shoulder. He sobbed uncontrollably. He sobbed for a long time. She made gentle shushing sounds to comfort him.

  After a while he lifted up his head and wiped away the tears.

  “I’ll be okay,” he said. “I’ll be okay.”

  He dug out his wallet, thumbed through the photos. He took out a photo and stared at it for a while. Then he shook his head sadly.

  When he slipped the photo back into his wallet another photo fell out and landed on the sofa beside me. I picked it up and looked at it.

  “Who’s this?” I said.

  “My daughter,” Ross said.

  “You’re married?”

  “I was. My wife passed away a few years ago.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “At least I still have my daughter.”

  I stared at the photo of his daughter.

  It was Kirsten Love.

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