Page 54 of Power of the Mind

“Birdie should be back soon,” I whispered. “She went to grab you a few things at the store. Maybe those shortbread cookies you like with your tea.”

Nana slept on.

“Love you, Nana.”

I left her and softly trudged up the stairs to the landing, where a door exited the side of the house. I could have escaped without seeing Mom. She likely didn’t know I was visiting.

Instead, I continued down the hall and poked my head in the doorway. Marlow Krause was a wilted woman, dulled from years of repression and abuse. Sallow skin, eyes clouded, and hair limp and lifeless. Silver strands eclipsed the brown more every day. She never smiled, never spoke above a tentative whisper, and slinked when she walked, doing all she could to go unnoticed.

I couldn’t find it in me to feel sorry for the husk of a woman on the couch. She’d chosen this life. She’d chosen Leroy Krause over me every single time. In my fucked-up brain, she was equally responsible for the abuse I’d endured at his hand.

“Hey, Mom.”

Marlow shifted her attention from the TV, took a second to notice my presence, and turned back. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Popped in to see Nana. She’s sleeping.”

“Your dad’s at work.”

“I know.”

“Do you need coffee?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Apart from the program, silence filled the room. Marlow Krause wouldn’t ask how I was doing. She wouldn’t get up and hug me hello. Inquiring about my friends, job, or love life was off the table. Leroy had beaten it out of her years ago. She was not to coddle his son. And when Dad had found out I was gay—not from me, I wasn’t stupid enough to tell him—it was Mom’s fault for treating me like a sissy when I was a boy.

She hadn’t.

I debated sitting down, but the air was stuffy and stunk of oppression. It was hot and stale despite the air conditioning.Besides, I wouldn’t have known what to say regardless. Mom and I had nothing to talk about anymore. She’d checked out long ago, leaving her defenseless son to the lion.

Frustrated, unsure why I’d bothered making the trip in the first place, I left. I wouldn’t find help or support in the place that had caused my issues to begin with.

All I could do was sit around the office and wait for Tallus to finish work. Part of me wondered if he would show up. Another part of me worried about what might happen if he did.

13

Tallus

Wednesdays at the office were quiet without Kitty’s presence, andquietwas the last thing I needed when my thoughts were loud. I couldn’t call Memphis. It would mean sharing my feelings about Diem, and I wasn’t ready for his unfiltered opinion. Besides, I had a bet to win, and if he knew Diem and I had been randomly hooking up for weeks, he would consider it an unfair advantage. If he only knew how not true that was.

At ten past five, while gorging on saltine crackers and peanut butter and skimming a serial murder investigation that had been closed in the early 2000s, the door to the records department opened, admitting the six-and-a-half-foot tall man who’d been on my mind all day.

His body language conveyed wariness. Without saying a word, Diem screamed his discomfort with tense muscles and a locked jaw.

One kiss. What had I done to the poor guy?

He carried a takeout cup from a local café, an unmarked brown paper bag, and about eleven tons of despair. Guardedly, as if journeying through a minefield and not crossing the twenty feet of tiled flooring between the door and counter, he approached.

I was convinced if I had yelledboo, he would have tucked tail and run.

Cautiously, he set the takeout cup by the file I’d been reading, placed the brown paper bag beside it, and backed up like he was feeding a wild beast who might snap at his hand unexpectedly.

The whole time, he avoided eye contact.

“Let me guess. Latte?” I asked.

Diem grunted and nodded.

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