14
Archer
If I had known McKenna was going to be there, I wouldn't have even gone in the gallery. But Hazel had seemed upset as Lucy looked through her paintings. I knew how snooty art-world people could be. I couldn't resist pulling one over on them.
I hoped Hazel wasn't too upset with me. It was just a joke. Plus her painting did look nice.
When I walked into my condo, I was greeted by complete quiet. My entire childhood and my early adulthood I'd had to share a room with a person or ten. Now it seemed the ultimate luxury to have all of this space to myself and in one of the most expensive cities in the world.
It was still empty though. I missed my family, as much as I hated to admit it. I had planned to spend several days in Manhattan at least, but now I found myself repacking my bags and heading down into the parking garage at the base of the building.
"I'm just doing this because clearly Mace is preoccupied and someone has to take care of my little brothers," I assured myself.
"You were always so considerate. That's why you were my favorite child."
"Mom?" I said, whirling around.
"My darling baby," my mother said.
Unlike Payslee, one of my father's other sister wives who was now thankfully in jail, my mother, Merla Vee, was fairly stylish and healthy. She approached me, her high heels clacking on the concrete parking deck floor.
"Hi, Mom," I said, hugging her. I felt a little guilty. All of my full-blooded brothers had basically cut our mom off. When we were kids, she just left one day, said she couldn't take being with my father anymore. She abandoned us at the compound. Being in a doomsday polygamist cult must have been hard for her. I couldn't blame her for leaving. My other brothers blamed her, though. Shortly after Merla Vee left, our father kicked me and my brothers out to fend for ourselves in the desert.
Still, she was my mother, and I couldn't abandon her.
Merla Vee reached up to pet my hair. "Look at my big, strong, handsome son," she said, smiling. "You were always my favorite."
My mother had been unhappy being a sister wife in a polygamist cult for obvious reasons. When I was a child, I would always try to cheer her up. Normally she would take her frustration out on her kids. I was the only one who could make her laugh.
"You know you shouldn't be here; my brothers could see you," I reminder her.
"You should tell them to call their mother," she said with a pout. "I'm so proud of everything you have accomplished."
I basked in the praise even though I knew it was false. She was flattering me so I would give her money. And it was working. The only time she contacted me was when she needed cash.
"We could grab dinner," I offered. "I could tell you about what's going on in my life." Even as I made the offer, I knew she wouldn't accept it.
"Oh," Marla Vee said with a laugh. "I know you're busy. I don't want to bother you. I only wanted to mention this company I wanted to invest in." She always claimed to have investment opportunities though I had never seen any real information on them. I knew my mother was spending the money on clothes and jewelry.
"Sure," I said, trying not to show my disappointment. "How about I give you a few thousand now, and we can talk more in detail later?"
"You're so generous," Merla Vee said, hugging me and kissing my cheek. "That's why you're my favorite son."
She tried to hide her impatience while I sent her three thousand dollars over Venmo.
"Thank you, sweetie! We'll be in touch," she said as she walked out of the parking deck with mincing steps.
I sat in my car after she left. A part of me wanted to call my twin and come clean, but Mace was busy with Josie, and he was finally happy. I knew this would send him into a tailspin after what had happened last month with Payslee.
I turned on the radio, hoping the music would lift my mood. I tried very hard to always be upbeat and fun. It was part of my persona. In the break between songs, the announcer said that all the trains heading west out of the city were down.
"So glad I have my car," I said, patting my dashboard. Harrogate was on the west commuter line. "Sucks for those people."
And one person in particular. A dejected-looking Hazel stood at a bus stop several blocks away with her huge portfolio. I pulled up beside her.
"The trains are down," I called through the window.
"I know," she said and looked away from me.
