Page 67 of Restless
“He hasn’t really been eating or sleeping, Momma.” Rebel explained her plan. “I think Uncle Mort wants to prepare the drink in here, which is why Diesel has to keep Daddy in the nursery.”
“Does he really need drugging?”
“Yes, Momma. He has so much caffeine in his system, I’m not sure it’ll work, but he’s going to collapse. This is required intervention.”
“Fine,” Momma grumbled. “As long as it helps Christopher and not harm him.”
“It will.” Rebel was certain a good night’s rest would help her father see clearer, especially in regard to fucking Tabitha. “What’s the next step? When can you and Jo come home?”
“I should be home in the next week or so. Jo will have to stay longer.”
“Then what?”
Sadness dulled her mother’s eyes. “I’ll have an appointment. At which time, Jordan will offer her recommendations.”
“What does that mean?”
Momma’s face crumpled. “She’ll probably recommend a hysterectomy.”
“You don’t want a hysterectomy? You have eight children. We need and love you. Wouldn’t a hysterectomy be the wisest choice to keep you with us?”
Tears brimming in her eyes, she smiled and nodded. “Of course, I want to do whatever will keep me here with my Christopher and our beautiful children, Reb. I love him so much and I just want him to be happy.”
“You don’t think he’ll be happy if you can’t give him more children?”
Before Momma responded, the door opened. At seeing Uncle Johnnie, Rebel’s smile died.
“Go away,” Momma said on a groan.
Rebel jumped to her feet. Daddy resembled a zombie. Uncle Mort looked drawn and defeated. But Uncle Johnnie had alarming wildness in his eyes.
“I need to talk to your mother alone, Rebel,” he said. “Get out.”
“Does Daddy know you’re here?”
“No,” Momma said tiredly. “He’s been hiding in one of the staircases since yesterday. Somehow, he knows when your father leaves.”
“She doesn’t need an explanation.”
“Johnnie, please just go.”
“You heard her, Uncle Johnnie. Leave.”
He glowered at her, his day-old stubble giving him a criminal air. He was fucking unhinged. He stepped farther into the room, so Rebel planted herself in front of her mother.
“This is between your mother and me, Rebel. I’m telling you one last time to go.”
“Or what, fuckhead?” Rebel snapped. “If you’re suicidal, jump out the fucking window. If you put your fucking hands on me, you’re dead. To save the environment, I won’t allow a bullet to be wasted.”
“You’re a disrespectful little cunt,” he snarled.
“And you’re just a fucking cunt, Uncle, so we’re even.”
He glowered at her. Hands on hips, she glared at him.
“You’re no lady and never will be.”
“Good, fuck face. I don’t want to be.”
