Page 15 of Kings Don't Break
Ken's walked away, though he still overhears. He doesn’t have to answer for me to know this.
I wipe Mama some more, my hands shaking. “Please don’t. Please just be quiet.”
“NO!” Mama protests, pouting. “It’s not nice to yell! Who does he think he is? Kick him out!”
A weary sigh leaves me. “This is his house.”
“Then let’s go! I’ll take you home and cook you that catfish! Where’re my keys?”
…what home? What car keys?
I don’t bother answering her, like I so often do.
Mama’s confused. She’s operating off a checkered memory where bits and pieces are clear while the rest is blacked out.
Once I’ve gotten her clean, I guide her upstairs to her room. She’s already forgotten the argument by the time I’m tucking her into bed.
She yawns. “Tell Ken I said good night.”
I kiss her cheek. “Okay, Mama. Sleep tight.”
I close the door and resign myself to more hell.
Downstairs, I scrub the floor clean ’til it gleams under the ceiling light.
My knees are rubbed raw and my back aches. I lose myself in the monotonous motion of the sponge against the tile, my mind traveling far away into alternate timelines.
Alternate lives I wish I were living.
Blake a constant on my mind.
Ken's shoes clack on the same tiles I’ve scrubbed, without a care about any scuff marks he may make. It’s no trouble for him if I have to go back over the floor again.
These shoes are the first things I see once I’ve taken my eyes off the sponge—his like-new leather dress shoes that he’s worn with his custom-tailored suit. My gaze rakes up his long legs, then travels to his cold blank slate of a face. I’m peering up at him, sweaty and exhausted, appealing for forgiveness.
He stares down at me like he’s a judge, about to issue my sentencing.
“Do I need to tell you where you went wrong tonight? All the ways you fucked up?”
“I’m sorry, Ken. It won’t?—”
“Don’t fucking say it won’t happen again! Don’t fucking insult my intelligence, Kor.”
I put the sponge down and rise up off my knees. “I tried to get the rump roast, Ken. I really did. But I had to drive across town to get to the tailor before they closed?—”
“That sounds a lot like an excuse. You had two hours.”
“Someone rear-ended my car?—”
“You mean your bad driving caused another accident,” he interrupts in a sharp tone. “I let you keep that piece of junk car, and you go and get it totaled. You can say goodbye to that privilege. My kindness only comes back to bite me in the ass. No more of that.”
My brows push together, my heart sinking. “You can’t blame me for somebody else hitting my car, Ken. That’s not fair.”
His eyes flash in warning and I fall silent. “Fair? Let me tell you about fair. I ask for a few simple things, and you can’t even do that right. You’ve got me promising the guys a rump roast then you come with some over-spiced chicken. That sound fair to you?”
“Both the lieutenant and captain said they loved?—”
“I don’t give a fuck what they said. They’re not the ones living under this roof, are they? I am. You are. I work hard to give you everything, and how do you repay me? You fail at every turn. You can’t do shit right. What purpose do you serve, Kor? What use are you? Because from where I’m standing, you’re pretty damn useless most of the time.”
