by Ava Claire
It was too soon, too raw, and once again, Rose was deflecting.
Before I could segue our uncomfortable conversation topic to the real reason I was there, the screen door creaked and the inescapable reek of booze punched me in the nose. I didn't even turn to look at the woman who wore Eau de Drunk morning, noon, and night. The smoker's cough that followed the old porch beams moaning against the weight made my blood run cold. By some stroke of luck, my mother had scaled back on her pack a day philosophy years ago and now only smoked occasionally. The cough that scratched over my body like nails on a chalkboard was that of someone that smoked a pack a day at least. And the tenor in the cough was too deep for my mother. Too deep for a woman at all.
I wanted to pretend she wasn't back to her old tricks, moving in her one-night stands and playing house until they took what little money she had and moved on to the next weak woman, but this was my mother we were talking about. And from Rose's suddenly rigid stature, she was all too familiar with the new boyfriend.
"Beautiful day, huh, Rosie?"
I still hadn't calmed down enough to turn my head and see what prize my mother had landed this time, but when I saw a hairy hand, complete with jagged, dirty fingers pat my sister's shoulder, I lost it.
I leapt to my feet, not thinking about the real chance that I'd plunge through the termite-infested wood. "Who the fuck are you?"
I hadn't gotten farther than his bloodshot eyes and I wasn't too enthused about seeing the rest of him, but I wanted him to know I wasn't afraid. Even as a ghost of her former self, my mother could do better. It wasn't that he was ugly, hell, I bet twenty years ago he could walk into a bar and women would have gladly met him in the bathroom for a romp. Now, his balding hair hung in salt and pepper clumps around a pudgy face. Beady blue eyes dropped to my breasts and stayed there. His oversized nose leaned in close like he wanted to sniff me and when he licked his thin lips, a wave of nausea washed over me.
"I'm Stevie."
Stevie. I couldn’t stand looking at his face any longer, so my eyes fell to his chest. At least he wasn’t a liar. It was the name affixed to his dirty work shirt.
He extended both arms like he was going to hug me, but that wasn't the most egregious offense. My gaze shot to needle marks that bruised his skin. He was using, and from the color of some of those marks, he’d used recently.
"Man, oh man, you look like your mama." He dropped his arms slowly when he realized there was no hug in his future. "Your mama's attitude too, I see," he chuckled. Since he struck out with me, he turned his attention back to my sister. "Nothing like my sweet little Rosie."
I grabbed his arm before he could touch her again. "First off, her name is Rose. Second, if you put your hand on her again, you'll lose it."
He put both hands in the air. "Hey, I'm just being friendly!" He pulled his lips away from his teeth. Well, the teeth he had left. "Me and Rosi-Rose," he corrected quickly. "Have become like best friends since I moved in. Practically father and daughter, ain't that right?"
The screen door swung open a second time, and the woman of the hour shuffled out on the porch behind her man. It had only been a month since we'd last seen each other, but she looked like she'd aged ten years in my absence. It used to be easy for me to see the memory of the woman she was before. The high cheek bones, the big lashes, the glow that lit up her entire face when she spared a smile. She looked worn down and weary now, and it wasn't because she was in a grubby housecoat and from the state of her hair, trying to make dreadlocks happen. She looked like she had given up altogether.
If Rose wasn't right behind me, trying to be quiet and go unnoticed, I would have snatched back the sleeves of her housecoat to see if she'd added drugs to her list of vices since Stevie came on the scene.
My mother reached into the pocket on her dingy coat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, pounding the crumpled box on the palm of her hand. "Always a pleasure to see my eldest, even if she looks like she still has a foot stuck up her ass."
Stevie let out a belly laugh that devolved into a coughing fit. "Good one, baby," he wheezed after he caught his breath.
My mother stuck a cigarette between her chapped lips and snapped at the man. He immediately brandished a lighter and lit the end of her cigarette. She inhaled and exhaled smoke, the fog masking her face.
"Can you take your sister for a few days? Me and Stevie are working on some things and she'll just be in the way."
I blinked, sure that I was still so stunned by her bullshit that I was hearing things. "What?"
"Can you take your sister to the city for a few days or not?" my mother snapped impatiently.
The way she said it, like my sister was an inconvenience, was what had me baffled. I absolutely would rather Rose be with me and safe than with her. Any damn day of the week. I'd even offered to have her move in with me when I'd moved off campus, but it meant changing schools, and Rose didn't want that.
I craned my neck toward my sister. There was a cloud hanging over her, despite the sun blaring down on us. It was a heaviness that I'd carry for her in a minute, if I could.
"Rose is always welcome to stay with me,” I tried to keep my voice level. “As long as she needs to."
“Oh, don't get any ideas," my mother glowered. "It's just for a few days, then she's coming back home, where she belongs."
I glared right back at the woman who had caused more pain than any rare happiness she bestowed on us. "That's debatable."
"Hey!" Stevie piped, crossing his arms sternly. "You show your mama some respect."
Before I could tell him my mother had plowed through all the respect I could spare a long time ago, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and shushed him.
"I'm used to her bitchiness," she assured him, shaking her head like it was the biggest injustice she'd ever known. "And if I let her get in a word edgewise, she'd say she's earned the right to treat me like crap because she's helping me out of a tight spot. That's love, right Sadie?"
For once, I listened to my mother. I didn't have anything nice to say, so I said nothing at all.
Satisfied that she got the last word, my mother uncoiled herself from her man and gave him his marching orders. "Go grab Rose's duffel bag from the living room, baby.”
Rose finally spoke, swiveling to gape at our mother. "You packed my bag?"
My mother's answer was to shuffle forward and pet my sister’s head like she was a dog. "You be good now, you hear?"
I snatched the bag from Stevie's hand and forced cheer into my voice when I faced Rose. "Ready to go?"
Rose followed me out to the car in silence. I expected her to spend the forty-five minute drive back to the city on her phone.
Brooding. Hurting.
Instead, the minute we put the house and whatever scam that woman was cooking behind us, Rose whipped around to face me and asked, “So, who's the guy you're into?"
Laughing despite myself, I welcomed the subject change. It meant my demons, our demons, could stay tucked away.
For now.
~
Thank you for taking the time to read Irresistible (Underneath It All: Book One). Please consider leaving a review. xoxo, AC
About The Author
Ava Claire is a sucker for Alpha males and happily ever afters. When not putting pen to paper or glued to her e-reader, Ava likes road tripping, karaoke, vintage fashion, and fantasizing about her favorite book boyfriends.
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