Page 93 of Magnetic God

“Brooks,” I say under my breath. “My mom is walking toward us and I’m pretty sure she’s already noticed us.”

“Fuck. Want to run?”

Part of me does, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction. I try to figure out why on earth she’s here. My stepfather’s church is in Fort Worth, or was the last time I saw them.

It’s strange seeing her after all this time. We look so similar, or so I’ve been told, but where my hair is blonde, hers is now grey. She’s aged a lot since the last time I saw her, too. Deep wrinkles stand out on her forehead as she scowls at me. Well, that’s one thing that hasn’t changed.

I slow my pace, coming to a stop as my mother and her husband approach.

The Pastor looks the same. Still as evil and terrifying as ever. I haven’t seen either of them in years. Five and a half, to be exact. Brooks squeezes my hand, letting me know he’s got my back, and I smile at him in thanks.

I’m not sure what I expect to come out of my mother’s mouth, but it’s certainly not, “You harlot! How dare you show your face around here, where your father works!”

Heat rushes to my face, and I feel Brooks tense next to me. There was a time when I would bow my head, staying silent just to avoid confrontation. Maybe it’s because Brooks is here, or maybe it’s because I’ve finally had enough, but I’m not going to let this slip by.

“One, that monster is not my father. My father is Dennis Foster. Two, how dare you call me a harlot! Aren’t you the one who cheated on your husband with your drug dealer?” Her cheeks flush, but I’m not done. “Three, how on earth would I know that Jeremiah works in this area? I haven’t spoken to either of you in over five years.”

The Pastor’s chest bows out, likely because I called him by his first name.

“Young lady, do not speak to your mother like that.”

Brooks straightens his shoulder, standing tall.

He towers over the Pastor by at least five inches.

“I’m going to have to ask you not to speak to my wife in that tone.”

Mom’s gaze darts between the two of us.

“Wife? You got married and didn’t tell your own mother?”

I nod. “Yes.”

Brooks adds, “The ceremony was small. Only close friends and family members were in attendance. I’m sure you understand.”

“No, I don’t understand.” She puts her hand on her hip. “How can you do this to us, Hannah? We’re your parents.”

There’s a dull throb building behind my eyes.

“Like Brooks said, only close friends and family members were there.”

“Hannah Lee Foster, how dare you speak to me like that!”

“How dare I? How dare you! You weren’t there, Mom, because I didn’t want you there. You would have only ruined my special day with your venom!” I exhale. “I know Brooks came looking for me after the accident. And you didn’t tell me.”

“No, I didn’t,” she agrees. “What good would it have done?”

“What good would it have done? Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Mom, I was a mess after the accident. Knowing Brooks was looking for me would have changed everything.”

“It would have changed nothing.”

I shake my head in disbelief.

“I’ve never understood why you hated me. Why you didn’t just let me live with Dad after the divorce? Tell me, Mom, does your God approve of the way you’ve treated your only child?”

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