Page 7 of Psycho

She pulls her hand into a fist at the mention of my father. I’m happy to have gotten a reaction from her, even if it’s anger. It tells me she’s still in there somewhere. My dad loved my mom in a way I think is rare. It was as if he couldn’t continue to breathe, if she wasn’t near him. It was intense, and beautiful.

I pull up to my father’s graveyard, and park, before walking over to his grave, with the roses in my hand. When I was a small child, he sent my mother red roses every week. Thursdays were flower delivery days. I once asked him why he had them delivered, instead of bringing them home to her.

“It’s more special this way. Any man can buy a cheap bouquet at the grocery store, and bring them home. This is planned, and comes with a card.”

“Why every week?” I ask, as I stare at my father with confusion.

He chuckles and pats my head.

“It makes her smile, and that means it’s worth every cent I spend.”

Kneeling in front of his grave, I place the flowers in the metal holder, and sit back on my heels as I talk to him.

“Dad, I miss you. And mom does too. I’m sure she’d be here if she could manage it, but she’s trapped in grief. I thought, by now, she would’ve bounced back, but maybe she never will. It’s hard seeing her like this, and I don’t know how to help her. She won’t take her medication, and only eats barely enough to keep her heart beating.”

Talking to a dead man is slightly frustrating, because I need his help desperately, but of course, I won’t get it. I’ve been alone in this world since I was a girl. Had my dad been alive through my Carlo years, he would’ve saved me from that abusive shit. Yet he wasn’t, so I dealt with it alone, and did anything I could to keep my mother safe from him.

Kissing two fingers, and placing them against his headstone, I say my goodbyes.

“I love you. I’m going to see Michael. Please hug him for me, Daddy. I miss you both so much.”

Rising, I move to the next gravestone. I brush the dust off the angel carved into the stone, before kneeling beside it.

I don’t bother brushing the tears away, I just let them fall, as I speak low.

“I’m sorry, Michael. I tell you that every time I’m here, and I’m going to keep telling you. I miss you, angel. I’d give my life for one more day with you. I still dream about that day, and I have so many regrets. If I had done things differently, you’d still be here. I don’t know if I even believe in God anymore, but I hope he’s real. I desperately want to believe there’s a heaven, and you’re up there, enjoying every moment. Is there sunshine there? Remember how you loved sunny days? And soccer,” I say, through a teary laugh.

Taking a deep breath, I smile at the memory. Michael running through the grass, kicking the ball all over the place, screaming ‘goal’ as he kicked it into the play net. There was nobody else there, just the two of us, and it was perfect.

Kissing his grave, the way I did my father’s, my breaths come out hard, when talking to him nearly crushes my windpipe. It’s always like this, it never gets easier.

“I love you, angel. I’ll see you next weekend.”

CHAPTER FIVE

PSYCHO

The stage has been set at the district attorney’s office, but now I want to find out more about her personal life. I have her home address on my cell phone, so I can make a visit. While I can hack, I didn’t need to. I rarely do. This is what friendships in government offices buy you. Maybe friendship is not the correct term. Relationships, born from fear. The property tax office in this case.

I smile to myself, as I call the Chief of Police.

“Mr. Bonetti. How can I help you, sir?”

“Bob. How’s the family?”

He stammers, “Real good. Real goo-od.”

It’s a reminder to him why he’s in our pocket, and why he wants to stay there.

“Giving you a heads up. There’s going to be a break in at 2307 Windover Drive. Be sure to send a detective you can trust, once it’s reported.”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

I can nearly hear the nerves crackling through the phone line, and can see him wiping his sweaty palms on his slacks, like he always does every time I see him.

“That’s all. Give my love to Caroline.”

I hang up before he has a chance to respond. People can decide to suddenly grow a conscience, and do the right thing. They need reminders of who will be hurt, if they decide to flip sides. The good guys never win. Not in this world.

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