Fractured ( Fractured #1) (13 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

The con
fusion in my head gave way to intense excitement as I approached the supermarket. The store was relatively empty, so I easily made my way back to the bakery. There were no protests from the loaves of Italian bread as I squeezed for the freshest one.

As I reached for another loaf, I heard
the shopper in the next aisle. I wasn’t intentionally listening, but the familiar voice caused me to stand still. It was Mrs. Sutton.

“You know I love it when you talk like that… I’ll be alone tomorrow night… How ab
out if I wear that little, black, lacy teddy you like so much… I’m at the supermarket now; I can pick up some strawberries and whipped cream…”

T
he voice got louder. Immobilized in mid-squeeze of the second loaf of bread, we made eye contact as she rounded the aisle corner. Surprise knocked the devilish grin from her face. Her tone changed to more of a business-like chatter when she saw me. “So, it will be in tomorrow and you can fix it? That’s great. Okay, I’ll see you then. Thank you. Bye.” She jerked her cell phone closed and tossed it into her large designer purse.

She adjusted her posture and flipped the large curl at the bottom of her hair behind her shoulder. “Oh
, hello, Mandy. How are you?”

“Fine
, Mrs. Sutton. How are you?”

“F
ine, thank you.” Her eyes moved up and down over me. I held the bread like a beauty pageant winner cradling a bouquet of flowers. “Italian tonight?” she asked.

I looked at the bread. “Yeah.”

“You know, I think that your brother and my Jenny would make a very attractive couple, don’t you?”

“Um, I guess.”
Oh
he was
good enough to date her Jenny, but
I
wasn’t good enough to be friends with
her
Jenny in the first grade? Why was she trying to make small talk with me?

“Well, have to get home to make dinner. Bye.”

“Bye.” I squinted as she walked away. Yeah, like she actually knew what a pot was. I bet she’d never cooked anything on her own in her life.

When I was alone in the aisle again, it clicked; that wasn’t Mr. Sutton on the
other end of her phone.

“Couldn’t stay away?”
Rob whispered into my hair from behind. It startled me and caused me to jump. When I turned to face him, I clutched the bread to my chest. It was all I could do to resist throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him. The sleeves of his ugly green supermarket shirt pulled as he slowed a skid of cereal boxes to a halt.

“Since Mom is having a good day
, she’s making dinner. I came to get bread.”

“Aw, and I thought
you came to see me.” He backed off.

I grabbed his hand. “I jumped at the chance to come here, even if I could only see you for a minute.” The smile returned to his face. I was convinced he wasn’t insulted when I saw the dimple on his right side.

“You’re wet.” He ran his hand through the tangled mess on the top of my head.

“Oh,
it’s raining.”

“
Why didn’t your brother drive you? Why’d you walk here in the rain?”

“I wanted to see you. I missed you as soon as you left.” It was the truth. I would have made up any excuse to come to the supermarket, rain or not.
Did I sound desperate
?

“I wish I didn’t have to work. I’d much rather be with you
, too,” he said.

If he only knew I ached to be with him every second.

“Back to work, Cooper.” A
heavy-set man with salt-and-pepper colored hair appeared from the swinging doors behind us. His nametag read “M. Reynolds, Stock Manager.”

Rob straightened his body and backed away from me. “Remember, nine o’clock.”

“Nine o’clock,” I repeated. With his fingers still laced in my hair, he gently pulled my head toward his. The warmth of his lips sent a rush of heat through me. I didn’t want it to end, ever. When he pulled away, I followed for more, but he didn’t. The look of longing in his eyes stayed with me as he pushed the skid down the aisle. I watched until he disappeared around the corner.

As I waited
in line to pay for the bread, Rob walked by me three times, smiling with each pass. On the fourth pass, Alyssa MacDonald, the high school cheerleader who wouldn’t give Bryan the time of day, stopped Rob to ask the location of something she didn’t really need: cat litter. Everyone knew she was allergic to cats. She just wanted to flirt with him. Anger swelled inside me. Rob pointed politely toward an aisle and continued with his task. He glanced up for just a moment and smiled at me. My shoulders relaxed.

It was only 6:30.
Could I make it until nine before I heard his voice again?

Dinner was ready when I got home. The table was set
, and both my brothers and Jimmy had washed their hands. I used the same towel as before to squeeze the water from my hair.

“Mandy, you’re soaked,” Mom said.

Jimmy’s stare was fixed on me. My clothes were so wet they stuck to my body, revealing curves I usually tried to hide. I pulled the towel up in front of me to hide the clingy fabric. Jimmy’s smile made me uncomfortable. It forced me to look away from him.

“I’m just going to run upstairs to change
into some dry clothes,” I said. Jimmy averted his glance.

A few minutes later, with dry,
baggier clothes on, I walked into the kitchen.

“I finally tracked Dad down. He’s coming straight home,” Bryan whispered
, as he passed me to get the cheese from the refrigerator.

“Tracked him down? Where was he? Wasn’t he at the shop?”

“Al said he needed to run out for some part or something.”

Mom stirred spaghetti in a large pot on the stove. This whole scene was surreal.
Was I in the Twilight Zone? How long would it be before she relapsed? I sidled toward her and inhaled the mouth-watering scent coming from a second pot. Sauce freckled the stovetop. The aroma of spices swirled through the air.

Bryan, Jimmy, Dillon
, and I sat down at the table. None of us spoke as Mom gave us each a healthy serving of pasta. Mom made herself a plate just as Dad walked in. He stood in the kitchen archway, astonished by the scene in front of him.

“Hello, Mar
c,” my mother said, looking over at him.

As if in slow motion, Dad took his seat at the table
, his eyes fixed on my mother. He looked at each of us for an explanation. We remained silent. We were afraid to break the spell.

When dinner was over, I shooed everyone out of the kitchen. “I’ll clean up, Mom.”

“That’s okay, Mandy.”

“At least let me help.” I kept my eyes on her, waiting for the alien to burst through her chest and kill us all.

The table was cleared, the dishes were washed, and everything was put away in record time.

My mother yawned. “I’m so tired. I think I’ll go upstairs and get ready for bed.”

“It’s only seven-thirty, Mom.” I didn’t want it to end.

“I know, Mandy, but it’s been a long day for me.” She stroked the
back of my hair and gave me the sweet mom-look she used to when I was little. When she pulled her hand away, I noticed the shaking was more pronounced.

“Do you want me to run a bath for you?” I asked.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

My father appeared in the doorway. “How about if I run the bath for you?” he asked. His tone was seductive. My mother smiled.

I hustled into the living room. “Let’s go for ice cream,” I said, loud enough to catch Dillon’s attention.

“Cream, cream,” Dillon shouted. Bryan looked at me.

“They want to be alone,” I whispered, and jerked my thumb behind me at our parents.

Jimmy hit Bryan with the back of his hand and stood up. “Let’s go for ice cream.” At least he got it.

The four of us piled into Bryan’s car, and we ate our ice cream as slowly as you can possibly eat ice cream without it melting all over your arm. I kept checking my watch. It was 8:35. “Okay, let’s go back home.”

“What if… what if they aren’t finished?” my brother asked.

“I’m expecting a call at nine. We’ll be quiet, and you guys will stay in the living room. I’ll stay in the kitchen until it’s safe for me to go upstairs.”

Jimmy and Bryan nodded. Dillon just repeated my last word, “Upstairs.”

Although the light was off in my parents’ bedroom, the flicker through the sheer living room curtains told me that Dad was watching television. The four of us crept into the house in a close group, as if we were one giant, multi-legged creature.

Dad didn’t turn to look at us from his recliner. “She’s sleeping.”
His voice was flat.

Bryan and Jimmy found their usual places on the couch.

“Dillon, get ready for bed,” I said. Without further prompting, he walked up the stairs. “What happened?” I asked my father.

“She was tired. She went to sleep.”

I made sure nothing was out of place in the kitchen before heading to my room. I peeked in on Mom, who was indeed sound asleep in her bed. I tucked Dillon in, turned his television on to the Cartoon Network, and then grabbed my things for bed. The clock read 8:56. I sat on my comforter and waited for the phone to ring.

At 9:22, I gave up and went into the bathroom. I showered and brushed out my hair. When I got back to my room, the clock said 9:44.
I hope he didn’t get into trouble when I saw him earlier.

Disappointment mounted when I noticed the clock said 10:20 at my next glance. I
t finally stopped raining. I turned out my light and stared at the moon through the window from my bed. I didn’t like waiting now that I knew what I was missing. A tear rolled down my face and onto my pillowcase before I fell asleep.

Chapter
Twenty-Four

Still in my pajamas, I shuffled into the kitchen and made Dillon his breakfast. Bryan and Jimmy replayed the same scene they had the day before. Bryan pushed down on Jimmy to wake him,
and then leaned against the sink to sip his coffee, while Jimmy added tons of sugar to his. This time, Bryan didn’t rush out. We all marveled at what we had experienced with Mom the night before.

“Think she’s still sober?” Bryan asked.

I shrugged. “I hope so.”

Bryan finished his coffee, put his cup in the sink
, and shook the amazement off with a small twitch of his head. He slapped a hand to Jimmy’s back. “Let’s go. I don’t wanna be late. I need to keep on track so when it’s time for my review, the store manager will think of me for a promotion.”

Jimmy got up and placed his cup in the sink as well.

When they left the house, I checked on Dillon, who was watching his cartoons in the living room. Then I went upstairs to get dressed. The sun was out, but I was hoping I’d spend another surreal day with my mother.

When I opened the bathroom door, she was leaning against the wall. The aroma of
alcohol hung in the air around her. One of her hazel eyes was squeezed shut while she worked to keep the other open enough to get her through the hallway.

My eyes opened wide. “What happened?”

She barely lifted her face. “Shhhh, don’t talk so loudly.”

I shook my head and as soon as she closed the bathroom door behind her, I ran into her room and searched every drawer, under the bed, in the closet, and on the outside of the windowsill, remembering the last t
ime I raided her room, she’d hid the bottle there. Nothing. Where could it be?

She returned to
the room as I straightened her blanket. Her nightgown fell off one of her shoulders.

“I’ll help you get dressed, Mom.”

“No!” she yelled. “Get the hell out of my room.” She crawled into bed. Before laying her head down on the pillow, she pulled a small bottle of Jack Daniels from inside the pillowcase. I smacked my forehead with the heel of my hand. The pillows. I never checked there
.
But where’d it come from? It wasn’t there when I changed the sheets last. Thinking I could ease it away from her, she fought me when I tried. She pointed a finger toward the door. “Out!”

“Where’d you get this?” I asked
, pointing to the bottle. I knew I had done a sweep of the house. Again, she ordered me out of the room. Knowing I couldn’t win, I obeyed. My shoulders were heavy, like I was carrying a huge weight down the stairs. The phone rang. I jumped to get it, expecting to hear Rob’s voice on the other end. But it wasn’t him. It was Jennifer.