Page 12 of One Hell of a Deal

“But you did,” I whisper softly, as he turns into the parking spot in front of the last house on the right, a weather-worn, robin egg blue, older home, by the looks of it.

He turns off the engine and takes a deep breath. “I would never have made it out of here without Garrett. I’m no different than anyone else here. No better.”

“So, this was his house then?”

He nods, “Yup. And mine was the tan beast across the street.”

I don’t turn around to look at it. I have a feeling that he doesn’t want me to. “Shall we head in to see Garrett’s mom then?”

A slight smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s do this.”

His shift in mood makes me nervously intrigued about meeting this woman, and I keep a few paces behind him as we make our way up the few steps to the front door. It’s strange how I feel protected with him in front of me. But at the same time, I don’t understand why I need to feel protected from a little old lady. The conflicting emotions are tiring me out. I fight the urge to go back to the car as he knocks.

As the door creaks open a few inches, I lean over to sneak a peek around Max, but can only see darkness within the house.

A throaty, deep, and faceless voice calls out from inside. “Maxy? That you?”

“It sure is, Lulu,” he says. “Who else were you expecting?”

My heart jumps as the door flies open and a frail, wrinkled, and stringy gray-haired woman flies out and wraps her arms around him, shrieking in delight. She’s quite a sight in bright purple threadbare pajamas and dirty pink bunny slippers. Definitely not what I was expecting.

She loosens her grip on him and, with a big grin, leans back to examine his face. “I was worried you were Big Tom, here for the lot rent. I won’t have it until Wednesday, so I’m hiding out for a while. Glad as hell it’s you instead. Get in here before someone sees you and tips off the jackass.”

Max reaches a hand back and pulls me inside behind them, talking as we go. “I don’t get it, Lulu. Didn’t Garrett leave you a bunch of money?”

“Sure did, but it will be six months before I see any of it. Stuck in probate or some shit like that,” she says, but her eyes suddenly widen as if she is noticing me for the first time. “Who the hell is this?”

Max steps to the side, providing a direct line between her and me. “Lulu, this is my friend, Daphne. She wanted to see the place I grew up.”

She is staring at me up and down, and a chill runs through my whole body as I mumble a soft hello.

“You smell like sulfur,” she says, cocking her head sideways at me and I’m unsure how I should react.

Max, thankfully, jumps in to rescue me. “You’re nuts, Lulu. You are mistaking cinnamon for sulfur. I guess you don’t bake those tasty snickerdoodles anymore.”

Her eyes don’t leave me. “Maybe. Why don’t you two sit down, and I’ll fetch us all some tea.”

She scurries off, and Max leads me in through the dark room, and we sit down on a brown, flowery couch that smells of cats and stale cigarette smoke.

The air is heavy, and as I take in the space, my guts burn with anxiety. There’s an old clock on the opposite wall, ticking in pace with the drumming in my chest. The shaggy green carpet is layered in dust and hair, and empty liquor bottles are strewn about the room. The walls are covered in dark paneling, and the windows are darkened with smoke-stained, bent, and crooked mini-blinds.

The only other furniture in the room is a table with a large box-shaped television and a chair with lumps and scratch marks running down the two front legs. There's a small table beside the chair with a framed photo of a young man in it, but it's too dark to make out any detail.

A tall glass of brown liquid is now inches from my nose, and I gasp, before taking the glass and mumbling my thanks.

“That picture there,” she says, handing Max his glass, “is my Garrett. But I imagine you knew that already.”

I nod and take a tiny sip from my glass. The beverage is so sour and sweet at the same time that I want to spit it out, but force myself to swallow it and hope my face doesn’t give my disgust away.

She sits in the small chair and takes a slug from her glass before turning to Max. “So, I know you didn’t come all this way to show your friend here, our cute little neighborhood. Why are you really here, Max?”

Max chuckles. “No foolin’ you, Lulu. I wanted to check on you. Make sure you are doing all right after losing…

“After my boy was stolen from me?” She is glaring at me now, and my veins feel like they might shatter. I feel like she knows something. But how could she?

Max shakes his head. “Lulu, He took his own life.”

“Bullshit,” she snaps, scowling at both of us. “You know damn well he would never do that.”

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