In the Cards(87)
“You’re a selfish man.” Mama’s eyes narrow with contempt.
Fixing a smug smile on my face, I rest my chin in my hand and tap my finger against my lips, as if I’m considering her remark.
“I suppose I inherited that trait from you, then, didn’t I?”
Without invitation, I brush past her, waltz into the tiny living room, and wait for her and Lindsey to join me.
Lindsey
His mother’s mouth falls open after his insult. I’m desperately seeking a way to smooth things over, then her brittle voice splinters my thoughts.
“I can see your daddy’s manners rubbed off on you. You look like him. Tell me . . . are you a no-good hustler like him, too? Did he put you up to this, to shake me down or something?”
Her haughty tone and lack of remorse embitter me. Levi’s camouflaging his emotions, but I’m sure he hurts. Of course, I had warned him an ambush wouldn’t be pleasant.
Levi’s icy stare, though directed at her, makes me shiver. I hold my breath, unsure what he’ll say next.
“Don’t speak ill of the dead, Mama. Pop may not have been the best man, but at least he didn’t abandon his child. In the scheme of things, your sins are at least as bad.”
I’m standing apart from them, rubbing the fabric of my skirt between my fingers, when Levi smiles at me.
“Where are my manners?” He reaches toward me. “Mama, this is my friend Miss Lindsey Hilliard. Lindsey, this is Mama.”
“Hi.” I extend my hand to her. “I’m sorry to meet you under these, um, circumstances.”
She hesitates before shaking my hand, then returns her attention to Levi. “Okay, Levi. What do you want? Do you need money?”
Her obnoxious attitude and accusation piss me off. It’s a struggle to keep quiet.
Levi sneers and nonchalantly promenades around her living room. He picks up a photograph of her and her husband and studies it before returning it to the table. I suspect he intends his leisurely pace to heighten her anxiety. It seems to be working. I also suspect it’s helping him find his own footing. For all his threats, there’s still a hurt little boy buried under all the hate on display.
“I don’t need your money, Mama. I came here for answers. I know how my life turned out, but I’m curious about yours.”
He takes a seat on the sofa and crosses one foot across the opposite knee as if we have all day. He grins at me and pats the cushion beside him, so I join him on the couch.
His mother glances at the clock on the mantel and then sits on a chair near the sofa. She observes me, probably wondering why I’m a party to this reunion .
“Lindsey? Perhaps you’d prefer to wait on the porch.” She starts to rise from her chair. “I’m happy to get you a beverage.”
“She’s fine right here with me.” Levi pins his mother with his eyes.
Much as I’d love to bolt from this powder keg, I can’t desert him. Although he came with guns blazing, his mother hasn’t done or said a kind or contrite thing since we’ve arrived. I’m convinced his behavior’s largely a reaction to her chilly demeanor.
She sighs. Her only option is to satisfy his curiosity.
I don’t know what I expected today, but I’d thought she’d have shown some sign of remorse or interest in Levi. Instead, she’s merely interested in getting rid of him—again. My angry thoughts are interrupted by her next remark.
“Fine. What do you want to know? This is where I live, this is how my life turned out.” She straightens her spine and sits back into her chair.
Levi pauses, staring through her. “Where’d you go when you left?”
Her cheek twitches. “At first I went to Houston for a few years. When my daddy got sick, I returned to Tifton.” She looks to her lap and toys with her skirt. “After his death eighteen months later, I moved to Atlanta.”
Donning an exaggerated, mocking frown, Levi leans forward. “Grandpappy’s dead? Sorry I missed the funeral. The invitation must’ve been lost in the mail.” He then tips his head sideways, like he often does when he’s discerning something. “So, you’ve been here since then. When’d you remarry?”
“Thirteen years ago. John’s a decent man. Honest.”
“Huh.” Levi grins. “Odd how you value his honesty but don’t pay him the respect of giving him yours.”
His mother smarts at his remark, briefly averting her eyes.
Levi leans toward her, his jaw firmly set. “Do I have any siblings?”
My eyes involuntarily pop open. Could Levi have siblings? I’d never considered the possibility. God, I hope not. If she’s borne and kept other children, it’ll only compound his pain.