Page 59 of Alfie: Part Two

We’d see. Either way, she had a long recovery ahead, and I was gonna smother her with attention until she kicked me out.

“You should head home and shower and rest,” I told Dad. “I’ll stick around for a few hours.” I stroked Mom’s hand. “You want me to read you gossip on my phone, Mom? Huh?”

She used to love that.

“Or maybe later, after you’ve rested…” I felt my forehead crease. She was already falling back asleep.

If God was real, let him be my witness. The man who’d hurt my mother was going to die a painful death.

I looked over at West in the corner, and I found him staring into space in Mom’s direction. As if he was miles and miles away. And something about his demeanor held an edge, something cold. I didn’t like it.

CHAPTER 19

November

Alfie Scott

Ibobbed my head to the music I kept on in one of my earbuds, and I finished preparing Mom’s bagel. Pumpernickel toasted, with a lot of butter. It was one of her favorites.

The music helped drown out some of her bitching.

“And what about Thanksgiving?” she hollered from the living room.

“West ordered a turkey and the whole nine yards from a restaurant!” I called back. She was such a pain in the ass, all because she hated not being able to move around freely yet. I mean, she was getting there, but she couldn’t walk well. She had one of those giant cast boots or whatever they were called, and whenever she got sneaky and tried to cook or clean, she kept walking into shit and hurting herself.

I placed the bagel and her coffee on a tray and headed into the living room, where she’d taken up reluctant residence in Dad’s recliner.

“I told you—you got nothin’a worry about. We’ve got Thanksgiving covered,” I told her. I set the food on her tray table. “It’s just gonna be us. Dad’s family’s celebrating in Boston, and Nana and Gramps will be here for Christmas.”

They’d already spent three weeks here. And whenever they visited, Ellie picked up another word or two in Spanish, Gramps played chess with Trip, Mom put up another picture of Jesus on the wall, and they went to church a lot. Their entire living room was a shrine to Bible characters.

“What about West’s parents?” Mom pressed.

“Eh. He still won’t talk to them.”

She shook her head and picked up her bagel. “Children should never ignore their parents. No matter how little I care for them.”

Fuck that nonsense hard.

“You ignored me forever,” I pointed out.

“I am not a child, son,” she said. She bit into her bagel and nodded to herself. “The good bagel. From Moe and Irv?”

“You know it.” I sat down on the couch and checked my watch. Twenty more minutes, and then I had to go back to work. “For the record, Irv’s affiliated.”

She froze, mid-chew, and it was so funny. I couldn’t help but laugh. It was easier now when her bruises had faded and the only reminder of the attack was that boot. And the last splint on her middle finger.

And, of course, the daily reminder that we hadn’t found the attacker yet…

“A mobster made my bagel?” she asked stiffly. “Sweet Irv?!”

I smiled. “We’re everywhere, Mama.”

Irv wasn’t a Son. I’d saidaffiliated.

Additionally, we knew him as Irv the Perv. It was a joke. He wasn’t a legit perv. He and his wife were just swingers.

Mom started chewing again, slowly, and she looked over at the window where the last delivery of flowers was wilting. Flowers from church friends, flowers from West…flowers from Finn and Emilia O’Shea, wishing her a speedy recovery.

---