Page 17 of The Family Across the Street
9
Logan
Four hours ago
Logan drums his hands on the steering wheel as he drives, debating what to do. Is he making more of this than he should be? He doesn’t think so. He’s been doing this job for a few months now and he’s never had a feeling like this before. He stops debating. He’ll swing by the house again, try to deliver the computer, just to see if the woman is okay.
He turns right instead of taking the left turn that would get him to his next delivery, shaking his head at his need to check on the woman. It’s going to make the day run late. His beer is getting further and further away.
Another text on his phone makes him sigh. She’s persistent all right.
You need to call me right now!!!!
This happens every few months. It’s usually something to do with money. ‘I can’t pay the rent, I can’t afford petrol for my car, I can’t afford to eat.’ The news of whatever latest disaster is delivered in a whiny voice, with much sniffing and many tears. The tears are for show and he knows that if he refuses her – and he does refuse her often – she’ll just move on to the next one in the family. Good luck to them, as long as she leaves Maddy alone. It doesn’t matter how far he pulls away, there is still a connection there and she knows it.
The first time she called him was a year after he’d moved out. Twelve months had gone by and he knows she hadn’t thought about him at all. He was only nineteen and struggling, and even though sometimes – like when he had to sleep rough for a night or two – he thought about calling to see if he would be able to go home for a month or two before he got back on his feet, he stopped himself.
He was shocked the first time she called, almost frightened by the desperation in her voice. ‘We’ll all be out on the street if we can’t make the rent, Logan.’ He sent the money to help, money he had to borrow so that Maddy would still have a roof over her head.
‘They took themselves off for a fancy meal,’ Maddy told him two days later. ‘She thought it was funny.’ He knew the money was never going to help but he gave in sometimes, the cord not quite severed enough between them, her voice still triggering something in him.
Another message comes through.
Call me right now. It’s about Maddy.
Logan groans. He’ll have to call now. He has no choice. She’s probably lying but he can’t take the chance.
He turns down a side street and puts the van into park. He doesn’t think the day can get any worse.
Before he rings her, he tries Maddy’s mobile and gets her voicemail again.
He taps her number, wishing that he didn’t have it and that she didn’t have his, but there’s nothing he can do about it.
‘Logan,’ she says when she answers her phone.
‘Carmella,’ he replies.
‘You could call me Mother or Mum, you know.’
‘Yeah, well, let’s not go down that road again, shall we.’ His hands grip the steering wheel and he’s glad he’s pulled over. There is no way he should resume driving until this conversation is done. ‘What about Maddy?’
‘Aren’t you going to ask me how I am? How your dad is? You know he’s not been well and I’ve had to put up with a lot. You could come over and help. That’s what a proper son would do. But then you’ve always had a way of cutting everyone out of your life, haven’t you, Logan?’
Logan grinds his teeth, stays silent.
‘Everyone is willing to let the past stay where it is, Logan, everyone except you – and you’ve encouraged Maddy to think the same way. Your dad is right about you, you’re terribly ungrateful.’
Logan watches his knuckles turn white and feels his jaw spasm because of how hard he is clenching it. ‘What about Maddy?’ he asks slowly, menace in his voice.
She sighs. ‘Well, I did warn her about that boy, but there you go, she wouldn’t listen. I mean she barely speaks to me as it is but I do try with her, Logan, just like I try with you, but the two of you seem to have your own way of remembering your childhood and no regard for everything that was done for you. Your father and I did our best with you kids, but nothing was ever good enough.’
He hears his father’s voice even though he hasn’t exchanged a word with the man in years. ‘Who would want to waste their time with you? You’re ugly enough to scare away even an animal. No one likes someone who never smiles. What’s your problem?’ His parents did not do their best – nowhere near it.
He drops his head onto the steering wheel, his temples throbbing. He knows that he can’t react to her, can’t give her an opening, can’t give an inch because that results in him screaming and her screaming. It’s not like she’s ever going to acknowledge what kind of a mother she was.
‘I’m going to hang up now,’ he says instead.
‘Fine, fine,’ she says, aggrieved that he won’t get into an argument. He knows that she thrives on the drama. ‘Someone beat her up. They have no idea who but I told the constable who called me I thought it could be that boy. He just beat her up and left her for dead. She’s in the hospital and I’m trying to get on a flight down to Melbourne to be with her.’
