Riven - Jerry B. Jenkins [9]
“What’d you do, Erlene,” Lois said, “drink your dinner?”
Erlene flipped her an obscene gesture.
“No cause for that. I’m just asking.”
“Yeah, you’re just asking like you always do. I didn’t invite you here, and I don’t guess you want to stay long, so can we get on with this?”
Lois nodded at Brady. “Wake your brother, please.”
“Is that really necessary?” Erlene said.
“What, you’re worried about him now?” Lois said.
“Yeah, Ma. You weren’t worried about him wh—”
“Don’t start with me, either of you! You act like that kid’s a saint!”
“He’s eight years old!” Brady shouted. “How bad can he be?”
“Just get him, please,” Lois said.
His mother lit a cigarette as Brady moved down the hall.
“You shouldn’t be smoking inside with these kids here, Erlene,” Aunt Lois said.
“I’ll do what I please in my own house.”
“And your kids be hanged.”
“Brady smokes too.”
“But you know better.”
Peter came padding out wrapped in a blanket and squinting. Brady thought the little boy and his mother locked eyes, but both quickly looked away without even a greeting.
Erlene said, “All right, Lois, the gang’s all here.”
Brady’s aunt drew a quavery breath. “Kids, you know your dad hasn’t been well for a long time.”
“Your brother hasn’t been their dad for a long time either, Lois.”
Lois glared at her. “He’ll always be their dad.”
“You kidding me? Peter barely remembers Eddie, and Brady was Peter’s age when he left. And how many times you boys seen him since?”
Peter shrugged.
“Couple,” Brady said.
“And what’sa matter with him?” Peter said. “The d-thing?”
“Diabetes, yes,” Lois said. She pressed a hand to her mouth, then to her chest. “He’s never been good about taking care of himself and following doctors’ orders.”
“When he even went,” Erlene spat. “Like he can afford that. He wouldn’t have insulin except for welfare. And he only uses that to make up for eating whatever he wants.”
Lois held up a hand. “Eddie fell into a diabetic coma this morning and—”
“A what?” Peter said. “What’s that?”
“Just something that happens with that disease if you’re not careful. Anyway, he died this afternoon.”
“Died?” Erlene said, her voice thin.
Brady had half expected this, but it was clear his mother hadn’t. She stubbed out her cigarette, and he hoped she would leave it like that. It would be almost like having a whole one later.
He had long despised the man who had abandoned them, though he thought he might have left a wife like his mother too. And he resented that his dad hardly ever communicated with him or Peter. Still, Brady felt an emptiness deep in his gut.
Peter looked puzzled. “So I don’t have a dad anymore?”
“When did you ever?” Brady’s mother said, her voice still reedy and hollow. Brady figured even she had to feel this somewhere inside.
That his aunt had lost her brother suddenly hit Brady, and he said, “I’m sorry for your loss, Aunt Lois.”
“I hadn’t allowed myself to cry yet,” she said, tears flowing now. “Thank you, Brady. And I’m sorry for you all too.”
“Sorry for me, too, Lois?” Erlene said, her edge back.
“’Course I am. You loved him once.”
“That was a long time ago. I don’t guess there’s anything at all in the way of an estate.”
Lois narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “Just debts.”
“And I guess that’s the end of my piece of his monthly check.”
Lois stood and grabbed her coat. “Honestly, Erlene, don’t you care that this is my brother we’re talking about, once your husband and the father of your children?”
“That never meant anything to him either, so spare me.”
“Eddie was a good boy once, Erlene, raised in the church.”
“Yeah, and now you’re going to tell me again how I ought to have these boys in church so they can, what, turn out like their father?”
“That’s enough, Ma!” Brady said. “Either thank Aunt Lois for coming all this way or shut up.”
“I oughta knock you silly, talking to me that way!”
“Oh, how I wish you’d try,” Brady said.
“Please!