Page 33 of Iron Hearts

“We go away for a long weekend and just look at things,” Grandpa agreed, and cast a worried look in my direction.

“Hey, I’m the golden child. I ain’t been misbehaving,” I said, my thoughts adding silently,that you know of…

My mother snorted at that and rolled her eyes.

“Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Dad. It’s good to have you home,” Mom said and gave hugs and kisses to her parents.

“You keep yourself outta trouble, kiddo,” my granddad told me, and then he and Grandma went through the door at the end of the hall that separated their suite of rooms from the rest of the house.

They had a bedroom with an attached bath and their own little living room space back there.

It had its own door leading from their little living room to the sunroom along the back of the house. It also had an entrance off the back of the dining room next to the kitchen, and then there was a single entrance that went out onto the back patio.

Mom and I spent more than a few evenings on the patio with its strung-up line of Edison bulbs, firepit, and lazily spinning ceiling fan.

All it took was one look from my mom and I said, “I’ll make the drinks.”

“I’ll get the supplies.” We both made for the kitchen area. I went to the cabinet devoted to liquor and started concocting a couple of mixed drinks. One for me and one for Mom while she went around the dining room table and disappeared into her bedroom to grab her rolling tray and joint supplies.

We convened outside, both of us dropping onto the big section patio furniture couch and lounging around the stone firepit table. Mom set down her stuff, and I set down our drinks on their coasters. She opened up the base of the table and twisted the knob to get the gas fire going.

It clicked and whooshed, and she turned the flame in the center of the table among the lava rocks to a steady golden glow.

While she did that, I turned the Edison bulbs to a warm white from the multi colors the boys had them set to.

“So,” she said. “This staff meeting… you’re turning in your resignation, right?” she asked.

I picked up my drink and took a fortifying sip.

“We’ll see,” I said. “Depends on what they have to say.”

“Rarity,” she chastised and I scoffed.

“I’m not trying to be a rebellious pain in the ass about this, I promise,” I said. “Trust me, I know how bad it was.I was thereand spent a big chunk of my day with detectives going over it all again. Itscared the shit out of me, but even they said that when something like this happens, generally the place it happens is the safest it’ll ever be in the months right after.”

My mom snorted like she didn’t know about that, as she worked on rolling us a joint to split between us.

My mom wasn’t a hippy, but she partook of the herb on the regular. Had all my life. Wouldn’t let me touch it until I was twenty-one, though.

I was one of those weirdos that had spent her twenty-first at home, getting drunk and high with her mom, falling out in fits of giggles over stupid shit and crying over Dad, wishing he could be there with us.

Honestly, there had been no place I would have rather been. It was a hell of a lot safer than going out.

For as much of an attitude as I had, I was your trademarked “good girl” and I didn’t give a fuck what anyone had to say or think about it, because to me it was all made-up bullshit anyway. Nothing was really ever that black or white. My dad and mom taught me better than that.

My mom sparked up and took a hit, holding the slim joint out to me. I took it, and a hit of my own and held the green smoke in my lungs as long as possible. I coughed. I was never very good at smoking. Generally, I preferred edibles, but edibles werewild.

I handed her back the joint as she cackled at my coughing and I shook my head grinning, taking another slurp of my cocktail. She tried hers.

“Ooo! Good job, baby girl,” she declared.

“I know, right? It’s like it’s my job or something.” I rolled my eyes and we both dissolved in a fit of giggling.

“Not for long, I hope,” she said with a gusty sigh.

“Mom,ifI do decide to stay, I don’t want you to nag me to death, okay?”

“I’m your mother,” she said flatly. “You’re my first born and my only daughter. I reserve the right to nag you to death when I’m worried you’re going to get hurt or worse,die,” she said.

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