Vendetta Read Online Free Page B

burgeoning need I have to check on her. That my visits are always acc ompanied with bags of things she might need. Her favorite brand of hairspray. Those blue macaroni boxes, five for a dollar. It's as if, after all these years, I'm afraid she can't take care of herself.
    Mike is stretched across the couch in the living room, shirtless. A baseball game is playing on television.
    "Hey, Genesis."
    I slink past him, ignoring the welcome, and move into the kitchen, setting the plastic bags on the counter.
    "You can be nice," she mutters, glancing back at the living room. Mike cheers with the fans on TV, oblivious.
    No, not really.
    "You didn't have to do this," she goes on. She's eyeing the bags, though, anxious to see what I brought by this time. The pantry is probably empty, or approaching it.  
    "It's no big deal," I reply, shruggi ng casually. "It was on sale." I remove the contents of the bags, pulling out the boxes of noodles, cans of soup, frozen dinners, and lining them up on the counter.
    And isn't this what I've always done? Made sure she was taken care of? That we had everything we needed?
    Mom opens a cabinet and reorganizes the few remaining items, making more room in the already tight space. She keeps the macaroni and cheese together, the soups together, and places the peanut butter by a half-consumed sleeve of saltine crackers.
    The apartment isn't much better than our old South Marshall rental house, or any of the places we've stayed, actually. The floors are permanently etched with dirt, and there are dents and cracks running up the wa lls and across the ceiling.
    There's still no kitchen table.
    "I know what you're thinking," she says, pulling on the freezer door.
    "No. It's just . . . I thought that with two incomes you guys would be able to find something a bit more . . . appealing."
    "I'm sorry to disappoint you. Not all of us have the luxury of borrowing our ex-boyfriend's pool house."
    And, just like that, I regret having stopped by at all. And I hate myself for bringing her groceries. For making an effort. "I'm paying rent," I remin d her. "And that's irrelevant. It's a weekday. Why isn't he working?" I ask, keeping my voice low.
    "With the crime and everything else going on, businesses are taking a hit. They had to cut back everyone's hours. It's temporary," she assures me.
    A swell of anger simmers, firing my insides, and I want to slap her. I want to take her by the shoulders and shake her and demand that she wake up. That she grow up. That she find a real job. One that pays real money. One that she actually intends to keep more than a few months.
    "You can't keep doing this, Mom. From one crappy job to the next. One crappy guy after . . . "
    "Genesis," she hisses, eyeing Mike in the living room. "I do not need this from you right now." Creases of worry are carved into her face. Around her eyes. The corners of her mouth. She's tired, and she has that pale, glassy look in her eyes. Like she's already a million miles away.
    She grabs the shampoo bottles (two for the price of one) and carries them to the back of the apartment. I continue pu lling out groceries, filling the pantry.
    "Why the long face?" Mike asks.
    "Shit." I jump, and the box of cereal in my hand crashes to the floor, denting the bottom corner. He leans over and picks it up. Our fingers touch as he hands it back to me, sending a n electric shock coursing through my veins.
    "Thanks," I mutter, tucking my hair behind my ears, flustered.
    So awkward.
    He ambles over to the refrigerator.
    "You interested in something to drink?"
    "You're offering me a beer?" I ask.
    He pulls one from the ca se on the shelf. "Just a thought. Might help you relax a bit."
    "I'll bet."
    "See? You're always so uptight," he teases.
    He twists off the cap and takes a swig. I wait for him to leave, to return to the den, to his game. But he doesn't. He stays in the too tiny kitchenette. Crowding me.
    "So. Watcha been up to? Haven't seen you around lately."
    "I've, you