Fighting Blind by C.M. Seabrook

“I’ll take you.”
    “Okay.”
    His face brightens.
    It’s actually a relief having him with me.
    Being around my mom is never easy, and even though I make him wait for me in the car, just the fact that he’s nearby eases some of my anxiety.
    My mom’s twenty-year-old Honda is parked in the driveway, and I can hear the television screaming some obnoxious jingle, but no one answers when I knock on her door.
    I knock again, then try the door. When it creaks opens, I yell in, “Mom?”
    Nothing.
    A white cat hisses at me from across the room.
    I kick an empty forty-ouncer that lays in the middle of the entrance. The place smells of stale beer, cigarettes and cat piss. My stomach churns. It was a bad idea coming here.
    “Mom?”
    “Stop yelling.” Wearing a stained blue nightgown, her hair matted, eyes puffy, the whites yellowed, my mom stumbles down the hall, then plops herself down on the couch, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it. “What do you want?”
    I can tell she’s not drunk, maybe a little high on pain meds, but she’s coherent enough.
    “I came to ask–”
    “If this is about the money again, I told you already it’s gone.
    She’s in one of her mean moods. I can see it in her eyes, the way she purses her lips when she glowers at me.
    “It’s not about the money.” I fidget in the entranceway. It doesn’t matter how old I get, I’ll always feel like a scared ten year old kid around her.
    “What is it then?” she bites out, blowing out a puff of smoke.
    “I…”
    “Spit it out.”
    “I was wondering if you’d heard from Stefano?”
    She flicks the ash from the end of her cigarette into an ashtray and sneers up at me. “Why do you want to know?”
    “I wondered if you’d heard if he’s still locked up?”
    “You trying to cause more trouble for that poor man? I swear, after everything you’ve done…” She pulls an orange plastic bottle from her pajama pocket and pops the white cap, then shakes a couple pills into her hand. She tosses the pills in her mouth, swallowing.
    “I’m not trying to cause anyone trouble.”
    “That’s all you do Mackenzie. Cause trouble. Ever since you were a little girl. You’ve been nothing but a nuisance. Only worrying about yourself. Do you ever think about what it did to me when you left? All that money you owed Stefano. Who did you think had to pay it?”
    “I’m sorry.” I know she didn’t pay a dime, because she didn’t have a dime to spare. But I had no doubt the man had made her pay in other ways.
    “Sorry.” Her top lip curls on the word. “That man is rotting in prison because of you, and all you can say is sorry.”
    I bite my lip to stop myself from arguing with her. I’ve tried many times, but it always ends the same. Her yelling. Me crying. So, I let her believe what she wants.
    “I should go.” It was stupid coming here. I should have known I wouldn’t get anything from her.
    A dry, harsh cackle stops me. “I hear you’re staying with that boy. What’s his name? Theo.”
    My mouth goes dry.
    “He’s done well for himself. I was looking on the internet, says he made three hundred thousand on his last fight. Smart girl, hooking yourself up with him.”
    I glance out the window and see Theo leaning against the hood of his car, arms crossed.
    “He’s just a friend.”
    “Just friends?” Her eyes are hard, calculating. There are times like these when I like her better drunk.
    “Why don’t you bring your friend in and I’ll make us some lunch.”
    “That’s not necessary.” I block the door when she moves towards it. “We have to go.”
    “You never want to stay.” She pouts, her mood changing instantly. “After everything I do for you and you treat me like this.”
    Maybe she’s had more to drink than I originally thought, or the pills are starting to kick in. Her face goes red, eyes fill with tears, and the heavy lines around her mouth deepen when she presses her lips together.
    I know what’s coming.