As Brandon backed out of the space, he asked, “What’s wrong with the freezer?”
“It’s little better than a cupboard now, stopped freezing things several months ago. Fridge part of it still works.” I rubbed at my temples, feeling a headache coming on. “I sent her money last month to replace it with.”
“And she didn’t. So where did the money go?”
“One of those things I’ll have to find out.” And if my oldest, lazy brother was behind it, I’d skin him alive.
I gave him directions to my mother’s house. I took in his expression anxiously as he pulled into the gravel driveway.
The little white house had a Victorian flair, with the sunburst woodwork near the crest of the roof peak, and the decorative trim work along the porch’s roofline. It was quaint, only a three bedroom, and had never been large enough to fit all of us kids into. My mother had bought it for twenty-six thousand when she and my father were first married. They’d fixed things as they broke, but never did the upkeep and repairs the house really needed. It unfortunately showed in the peeling white paint, faded green shutters, and the warped front porch boards. The haint blue ceiling of the porch was so faded it looked grey now.
I’d seen how the Havilis took pride in their houses. Nothing was out of place, it was all in good repair and updated. Jon’s place was much the same. My mother’s house looked shabby in comparison, and I winced internally at the comparison.
Brandon’s face gave no indication how he felt about the house. “Let’s get the groceries unloaded,” was all he said. “We’ll worry about her fridge and water heater later, when we have time for it.”
“Okay.” I didn’t know what else to say. And now that the reality was sinking in, I wasn’t sure how I felt about him taking on something that wasn’t his to shoulder.
I’d kept my mother’s section of the groceries in the back seat, separate from what I’d take to Edmée’s, so they were easy to grab between the two of us. I still had the key to the house on my key ring, and I unlocked the side kitchen door for us. Stepping in, I took an anxious look around, trying to eyeball the situation. It didn’t look good.
The mold-stained walls were the same as always, the white cabinets in need of sanding and painting, the linoleum discolored with age. Nothing had changed in that sense but there were telltale signs something was amiss.
My mother was a good baker, and growing up, she’d always had a loaf of bread made up and sitting in a towel on the kitchen table. It had been the cheapest and easiest way to keep her children’s bellies full, and it was habit even now. I didn’t see any bread on the table or any signs she’d made some recently. Opening the cupboards, I found rice, condiments, and precious little else. The fridge held a half pint of milk and a slab of butter. The vegetables in the drawer came from her box gardens out back. I knew the source of those.
Anger overtook me, and I slammed a fist into the side of the fridge. Dammit, Georgie, damn your black rotten soul.
“Honey,” Brandon said in a mild rumble that sounded like an earthquake was imminent. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
I sighed low, trying to get my temper under control. “My eldest brother Georgie is a leech. He can’t make a living, constantly getting fired or walking out of jobs when he shouldn’t. Mama’s forever bailing him out when she don’t have two silver dimes to rub together herself. If there’s such little food in the house, and she didn’t use the money I gave her for a new fridge, odds are it went to Georgie somehow.”
“Ah. And you’re blaming yourself for this.”
Strangely, I was. I wasn’t sure why. I kept my eyes on the fridge as I answered him, as I couldn’t look up just then. “I didn’t want to come back here. I was happy to escape this place. But my mama, Brandon—I love that woman to pieces. I should have thought more of her.”
“Mack,” he sighed, and two arms wrapped around my shoulders, hugging me into that broad, warm chest of his. “You call her two or three times a week, text her constantly, keep track of her. You sent her money to help. You’re being a good son. It’s not your fault your older brother is a douchebag.”
I turned and burrowed into him. The clean, citrusy smell of his bodywash tickled my nose and it was somehow comforting. I wanted to believe him. Rationally, I did. It was just… “She’s about twenty pounds lighter than she was.”
“Shit. I thought she was rail thin. But some people are naturally that way, I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Alright, honey, you breathe. We will work out a way to fix this. And I will help with the fridge and water heater and whatever else is broken, okay? We’ll take an extra day or two down here if we need to. Don’t stress about this.”
I nodded against his chest, taking comfort in him like I rarely had in anyone else. Brandon always followed through on whatever he’d promised. I had faith this time wouldn’t be any different. Although the fridge and water heater were mine to deal with, not his.
“Come on, let’s put all this away. We’ll order a pizza or something for her tonight so she doesn’t have to cook.”
We did have to get to Edmée’s. “That’s a grand thought. Let’s do that, she rarely gets pizza.”
The groceries were put away in a minute and then back in the car we went. I had to look up Edmée’s address, but it turned out she lived barely three streets over in one of the small Monopoly houses. It looked a sight better than my mother’s, but Edmée also made a better living. She’d inherited a small amount from her grandmother about ten years back and went to trade school with it. Edmée was a plumber now and made decent money.
I’d texted her when we hit city limits, so she knew we were coming in soon, and she popped out the door with Cali in her arms as we parked in the driveway. The smile on her face looked dim with worry. My cousin had always been from the prettier side of the family, her dusky amber skin clear and a perfect complement to her soft black hair. She’d chopped her hair short since I’d seen her, but the style suited her, framing her heart-shaped face.
Cali was very much her mother’s child except she had apple-green eyes where Edmée’s were dark brown. I saw those eyes go wide with delight as she recognized me. She held out both arms towards me in demand. “Boo!”
“Did she just say boo?” Brandon asked in amusement.
“That’s what she calls me. No idea why. Hey, Cali. Come give me a hug.”
The toddler came directly into my arms without hesitation, snuggling in with a sigh of satisfaction, although she kept her eyes on Brandon, studying this new person with curiosity.
Edmée hugged me despite the toddler in my arms and breathed out a shaky sigh of relief. “Merci, mon angé.”
“None of that,” I chided with a smile. “Edmée, my boyfriend and partner, Brandon Havili. Brandon, this is Edmée and Cali.”
“Pleasure,” he said in his deep voice.
Edmée had to crane her neck up to see his face properly—she was about as tall as my mother; height did not run in my family—and I could tell she was both taken in and intimidated by him. “Enchanté, Brandon. Thank you so much for coming. I’m sure you’re both anxious to eat something and get settled. Come in, come in.”