Comin' Home to You (44 page)

Rubbing her nose gently, something crossed her mind. “Hey, Ben?”

“What’s up?”

“Is it possible for you to drop me off by Dad’s house and you go bring back Austin?”

“I guess. What for?”

Ali gazed out the window to see a man outside, building a large wooden swing set while his young raven haired daughter bounced up and down, uncontrollably excited for her father to complete his work. “I just haven’t had a chance to really be alone.”

Ben paused. Ali bet that he was thinking about her relapsing. There wouldn’t be any other reason for him to formulate a response to such a simple question. “Yeah. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Thank you.”

There was silence until they arrived at the house. Both stepped out of the car, Ben holding the luggage she was allowed to bring to the facility. “I’ve only been back here once,” noted Ben.

Ali nodded her head mindlessly. Nerves were getting the best of her. The house was empty, but she was scared, as if ghosts inside were prepped to haunt her once she set foot into the home. It was true, in a sense. The ghosts were guilt, sadness, and anger. Taking a deep breath, she waited for Ben to unlock the door. Once open, Ben motioned her in. He didn’t want to enter either.

“Alright, I’m off to get Austin. You won’t believe how excited he is for this day. He’s been bouncing off the walls.”

A genuine smile made its presence known on Ali’s face. “I’m excited too.”

Ben stepped into his car and drove off, leaving her alone. After some debating whether she really wanted to, she stepped foot into the house. She later deemed her indecisiveness as moot; she planned to live here. The inside was dark, though enough light crept in for her to maneuver. After turning on a light, she placed her bag down to the carpeted floor and checked out Austin’s bedroom. The window that had been shot up and any bullet holes in the walls had been fixed and patched. The baseball themed bedspread was perfectly made on his bed, and all the sports memorabilia on his dressers and walls were all neatly placed. It was like nothing ever happened in this room.
Ben must have did a lot in his one time here.
She went across the hall into the bedroom she grew up in. She decided to forever live here. It just wouldn’t be right to take her father’s room.

She ventured that way, but veered toward the kitchen. There wasn’t anything worth seeing in his room anyway. On the kitchen table was the bottle of Maker’s Mark she used in her efforts of keeping Owen from going to the lake with Scar. Now, all that remained was just a touch over half a bottle. It looked mighty tempting, but right now was not the time. Even after her conversation with Ben about slowing down, it still had been three months since she had a drink. She was only human. Needing just a sip, she poured herself a drink in a plastic Dickey’s Barbecue cup. Putting it to her lips, a sip was all she took. It was a calming presence in her body, allowing her to relax and take a seat at the wooden dining table. Here, she reminisced about her last days with her father. She truly realized how wrong she was for acting so irresponsibly. It amazed her how in just a span of a few hours, enmity turned to love. She laughed inside, but her lips stayed poised. It was still too early to laugh back at the good times. Her heart was still in the process of being repaired.

Considering taking another sip, she heard footsteps coming up the front porch. Her eyebrows twitched as she slowly put the drink down. It hadn’t been enough time for Ben to return with Austin. She felt apprehensive. Her eyes darted to her father’s room. She was positive there would be a gun or two in his closet. He did have quite the selection. After all that culminated between the Tomkins and Graysons, could another member of the family be seeking vengeance? She jumped when she heard knocking on the door. The sound was a heavy thud, one that meant business. She no longer felt safe. Quietly, but quickly, she ran into her father’s room and turned the light on. It was a mess, completely untouched by Ben. The closet door was already open. Rushing in and parting the hanging shirts on the upper rod, she found a small silver revolver in a shoebox. It was exactly what she needed. Checking the cylinder, it only had three bullets. That was fine with her. She hoped she wouldn’t have to use it.

A second knock, louder than the first, prepped Ali to action. Hiding the gun behind her hips, she slowly opened the door. Her body tightened when she saw who it was.

“What do you want?”

Holding the handle of a large hardside briefcase with a disoriented look on her face was Mary, Scar’s older sister. Her hair was back in a low ponytail, and she had what appeared to be a cold sore on her lip that had lip balm applied to it recently. She eased the suitcase to the wooden porch and let go of the handle. “Uh, I came to give you this.”

Ali’s eyes lowered to the bulky slate gray suitcase. “You came to give me that? Is this a joke or something?”

“No. Scar told me to give this to you, but you, like, haven’t been around in forever. So I heard about town that you were in rehab and getting back today. You weren’t at your house, so I figured you might be here.”

Confused, Ali’s eyes raced from Mary to the suitcase. “When did he give that to you?”

“The morning before he died,” Mary bluntly answered. “I remember it vividly. I had woken up and was watching the Today Show, or maybe it was Golden Girls.” Laughing, Mary scratched at her nose before abruptly halting her humor. “Fuck, maybe I don’t remember. You see, I usually start my mornings with a hydrocodone in my orange juice…and vodka. My wisdom teeth hurt, you see, and-”

“Just get to the point. Why are you giving it to me?” Annoyed, Ali didn’t believe she needed her gun anymore, but she was at least wanting to shoot at Mary’s feet just for fun. She knew a lot of people who were addicted to drugs. Mary was by far the most annoying.

“Yeah, uh…I don’t know. Scar just told me to give this to you if he…well, didn’t come home.” A rare hint of genuine emotion cracked out of Mary’s lips.

Mary scooted the suitcase toward Ali. Her hand hesitated in grabbing it, but after another nudge from Mary with her foot, Ali took the surprisingly heavy suitcase in her hand and dragged it inside, dropping her gun in the floor out of sight. Mary wiped at her eye and turned around to head back to her car, an older Toyota Corolla. Ali watched her walk all the way to her car, then took a look at the suitcase. The first thing she noticed was the lock, a four digit combination lock. Her fingers moved the brass numbers, randomly inputting numbers in her attempts to unlock it. Quickly giving up, she ran out the open door, flagging Mary down before she had backed out of the driveway.

“Hey, wait! How the fuck do I unlock this!?”

Sticking her head out of the window, Mary gave a keenly surprised expression. “Oh fuck!” She laughed louder than the car’s engine, which sounded like it needed some maintenance. “Scar said, uh…dammit, what did he say?”

Muttering, Ali was beside herself. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Mindlessly staring at the dirt and gravel driveway below her, Mary thought long and hard, trying to take herself back to that moment three months ago. Both women were high school dropouts, but Ali’s mind luckily wasn’t as destroyed by drugs as Mary’s was. It was almost sad watching her attempt to think.

“Oh yeah!” exclaimed Mary. “I got to thinking about screwdrivers and hydrocodone. I named that a hydrodriver. That’s the queen of breakfasts.”

Ali had an intense glower. Mary could feel it. “Oh yeah, oh yeah. Scar told me to tell you that the code is the price for a kiss. That doesn’t make sense to me at all.”

Oh boy, a riddle.
Ali didn’t expect opening a mysterious suitcase to be such a chore. Exhaling with frustration, Ali gave an insincere wave goodbye to Mary. “Thanks.”

Mary waved back. “If that thing has some pills or ‘shrooms or something good in it, you mind sharing?”

“If it’s drugs, you can have it all.”

Smiling, Mary seemed giddy at the prospect. “I’ll cross my fingers!”

After watching her vehicle pull out of the lengthy driveway, Ali turned around and looked at the suitcase from outside the house. Contemplating what Scar meant as she entered and closed the front door behind her, she didn’t have to think too hard about it.
Price of a kiss? That one night, when he kissed me, the price? That Maker’s Mark in there, I purchased…no, he bought it! The price!

Ali felt proud of her problem solving abilities. They did riddles and puzzles at the rehab facility in order to gear the recovering minds into something productive. She was one of the best there. Looking at the four numbers, she recalled the price of the bottle of Maker’s Mark. Ali had an eidetic memory for how much things cost plus the tax, though this skill was mainly used for the purchasing of alcohol and drugs. It was a sad talent, but one that came useful for this. Inputting the numbers 4-8-3-5, she heard the contraption unlock. Not wasting any time and curious as a button to see what was left for her, she lifted the upper section.

Her eyes almost exploded out of her head.

It was loaded with cash. Crisp $100 bills stacked neatly and bound in stacks of five thousands. She couldn’t fathom how much was in this case. Flustered, Ali assumed there had to be close to a million dollars in here, if not more. Placing both fingertips to cover her open mouth, she struggled to take in what she was seeing.

A white folded piece of paper inside of the suitcase separated itself from the pale green of the monetary bills. Intrigued, she picked it up and unfolded it. It was a note, handwritten by Scar.

Ali,

If you are reading this, then I guess I got killed by your dickhead father. Or maybe I had a car wreck. Either way, I’m dead. I’m sure you are surprised by what you’re looking at. All of this is for Austin. You may spend it on yourself too. Just do it wisely and not all at once. Don’t be too flashy, or else some people may grow suspicious.

I wasn’t very good at explaining how I felt the other night. I always was fond of you even when you were a kid. You had a smart mouth and enjoyed trashing your father. That’s changed now, but as you have grown older, you are way finer. You are a beautiful woman.

I do wish that I had lived Clint’s life. But since I am hiding behind a pen and paper and am now drinking beer from a waterfall in Heaven surrounded by sexy women, just know that when we kissed, I knew I loved you.

Goodbye Ali. I hope life treats you better.

Scar

For minutes, all she could do was blankly stare at the note, reading it again and again. Ali couldn’t describe how she felt. Confused was the word that most closely reflected her emotions, but even that word’s meaning was convoluted. He was nicer than most, but that could never upend the fact that Scar knew what Clint was doing to her. He only made his move when she was single and convenient. A real man would have stepped in long ago. But, she couldn’t dispute the fact that he cared for her. He especially cared for Austin. In the end, both Owen and Scar were winners. Her father fulfilled his mission of getting rid of both Clint and Scar, while Scar succeeded in giving Austin a stable future. It was up to her to raise him right. She was more than up for the challenge.

The crackling of tires meeting gravel sounded in Ali’s ears. Promptly closing the suitcase and placing it in the closet of her bedroom, she walked back into the living room and peeked out of the window. Austin was sprinting from the car to the front porch. His face was filled with anticipation. Ali could feel her chest pounding the same way. Three months had passed without any contact with her son. She could never again spend such a lengthy time away from him. Rushing to the door, she opened the door and met Austin on the porch. Both mother and child embraced each other in a comforting hug. Ben exited his car and silently looked on, a subtle smile on his face. Ali had no need to be tough or look strong. She was delighted that tears were streaming down her face. It confirmed that she was a nurturing mother who cared deeply for her offspring. Her wet eyes looked to the sky above. She knew that her parents were looking down on her, hand in hand. It greatly saddened her to know that both of her parents were now dead and gone. But she would always remember and cherish their sacrifices for her and Austin. Without them, she was a nobody who would still be hooked on drugs. She had a new start at life and she planned on taking full advantage of it.

Austin courteously escaped the loving clutches of her mother’s arms. “I missed you so much, Mom.”

“I missed you too. I’m all better now. I promise.”

“I knew you would be.”

Ali examined her son, head to toe. His hair had grown out substantially to where his dark bangs could hang over his eyes. He might have been taller too. “You’ve grown, son.”

Ben shouted from the short distance away. “You ain’t the only one who thought that. Taylor swore he had grown from just his time with us.”

“Thank you so much, Ben. I can’t appreciate what you did for him while I was gone.”

“Don’t mention it. Well, I’m gonna skedaddle. Gotta do some sort of work today. You two need some time alone anyway. Why don’t you two come on over for supper tomorrow night? Taylor was thinking about enchiladas.”

“Oh, can we, Mom?” blurted Austin. “Aunt Taylor’s enchiladas are freaking amazing!”

Ali smirked. “Yeah, of course, but uh...my-”

“We’ll get your car back to you today,” Ben interrupted, as if reading her mind. He withheld the information that the seat was cleaned of Owen’s blood.