Staying there would send my mother over the edge, but this was my life to live.
I walked inside and pulled off my clothes before I dropped them on the floor and climbed into bed. I stared at the ceiling and thought about my possible move and new career path.
I’d just have to find a way to break it to my ma. Leaving her behind was something she’d throw in my face for the rest of my life. She’d probably fall at my feet or hang on to my bumper as I drove out of the city, screaming for me not to leave her.
I was sure my imagination was just a tad overactive; she’d wish me well and kiss me goodbye.
Who the hell was I kidding? Fran was gonna have a meltdown.
Chapter Three
Shit-Faced Drunk
Morgan
Fran was plastered. I mean completely shit-faced. Talking nonstop, smiling more than usual, and smoking like a train.
She’d never been a drinker, but at weddings, something inside her shifted. She’d consume more than her fair share of alcohol and suddenly turn into a chain smoker.
It was the perfect time to drop the news that I’d be moving in her lap. Maybe her drunkenness would extend her reaction time and give me a chance to escape before she tried to beat me to death.
That was the thing about her.
She loved me, and often she was overbearing, melodramatic, and fiercely protective. Not only would she beat the crap out of anyone who hurt me, she’d willingly do the same to me if she thought it was for my own good.
No matter how many times Ma had hit me, I’d never thought about striking her back. She’d raised me to respect women, and I knew that, if I ever did raise a hand to her, my uncle would end my life.
My size made her ability to actually hurt me impossible, but I knew that it was how she’d react. She wouldn’t throw a right hook, but she’d pound on my chest and beg me not to leave. Hopefully, giving her the news at the wedding would stop her from causing a scene.
“Hey, Ma,” I said as I pulled out the chair next to her. I glanced at Uncle Sal, who was kicked back and just enjoying life now that his only daughter was married off.
“Hey, baby.” She looked up at me with a sloppy smile, a cigarette between her fingers with ash an inch too long hanging from the end. “Whatcha doin’?” she asked as she hiccupped.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.” I sat down and pulled my chair close to her.
Uncle Sal cleared his throat, standing quickly. “I’m going to leave you two alone.”
“Thanks, Uncle.” I nodded.
“Sal,” Ma said as she reached out and grabbed his hand. “Be a dear and get me another one of those fruity things.” She looked up at him, grinning.
He nodded, patting her hand before he disappeared through the crowd and left us to talk.
I fidgeted with my drink as I thought about how to break the news to her. There wasn’t an easy way to say it. I needed to man up and just…
“Just spill it, Morgan.” She took a long, slow drag of her cigarette and let the smoke waft out of her mouth.
“I found a job,” I blurted out, figuring it was best to lead with something positive.
“Does it have anything to do with those criminals back home?” She rested her elbow on the table, holding the cigarette in the air like an old-school Hollywood actress as the ash tumbled to the plate in front of her.
“No. Thomas actually asked me to come work for him.”
A smile crept across her face. “Thank God, honest work. I didn’t know he was opening a Chicago branch.” She took another drag, almost missing her mouth in the process.
Uncle Sal stood behind her, listening to our conversation. I nodded at him before he set the drink in front of her.
She grabbed the glass and took a sip. “Thank you, brother.”
