Page 17 of Pretty Broken Wings
I like seeing Mom happy. Ax’s stories always help. He only tells Mom the good ones. He likes to leave out that he also has a successful business where he trades little personalized poems for pieces of gum. The love-sick boys at our school eat it up,writing their crush’s names in and leaving them in their lockers. Ax pays me in an endless supply of cinnamon gum to not only write the poems but to keep my mouth shut about it.
Ax continues talking, and Mom continues laughing, but the pizza feels heavy in my hand.
Mom has been better since she left Dad. She doesn’t fall down the stairs as much, and I like seeing her smile. But recently, she’s been so tired, and her face looks different. She says she’s so cold all the time. I’m saving my money to get her fuzzy socks, a sweater, and more pants. She said the other day her pants don’t fit anymore.
I take another bite of my pizza despite not being hungry anymore. I wonder if I had friends who did stupid stuff like Axel’s friends do, would it also make Mom as happy?
As I sit there chewing, I realize that Mom hasn’t had any herself.
“Have some.” I push a paper towel at her.
“Oh, it’s okay, honey.” She wipes her eyes, then takes the paper towel to blow her nose. “I only like the crust, you know that.”
I stare at her, and for some reason, sadness fills me. There are a lot of things Mom doesn’t like.
I wish she’d eat with us.
I finish my piece, leaving some sauce and pepperoni around the crust, and Mom eats it quickly. I get a second piece and leave almost half of it, pushing it across the table. Mom just sits back, looking tired again. “I’m sure you’ll be hungry later. We get to have this for lunch tomorrow, too.”
“Yes!” Axel pumps a fist in the air.
Mom smiles at Axel, looking less tired. I wish I could make my mom smile more.
Why can’t I be more like Axel?
CHAPTER NINE
Buddy woofs gently right before there’s a knock at my door. My pitbull jogs up to the door, tail straight up, while I heave myself off the couch.
It’s seven AM. Who the hell is here?
As soon as I crack the door, Buddy takes a huge sniff, then her body relaxes, which can only mean one thing.
“You gonna let me in, asshole?” the muffled voice comes from outside.
Axel.
I groan, opening the door all the way. My brother stands there with dark circles under his eyes, looking like he got run over by a bus. But he still has that signature air about him—the cocky confidence that gets him all the girls, dark circles or not.
Buddy gets excited, the traitor that she is. She has a particular distaste for every single person who isn’t Axel or me, which may be because he smells like me. I’m not sure. I can only guess what her life was like before to make her even hate women. She’s not aggressive, but she is protective. She thinks everyone who comes through my door is trying to hurt me, sans Axel. I even have to pen her when Mom comes over.
“Move.” Axel shoves the door open. And, because I’m a glutton for punishment, I let him. I shouldn’t. He got drunk and pissed off some woman so much that she broke my glasses. But when someone needs help, I can’t seem to stop myself, particularly when that someone is Axel.
“Took you long enough.” Axel shoves past me and shuffles right to the kitchen, Buddy following.
“What do you want?” My voice is gruff.
“Do you still get that sourdough?”
I stalk to the kitchen, where I see him rummaging through my shelves.
“Ah hah!” He pulls the bread out and throws a wink back at me. “Great minds.”
Jesus.
“You know I have that trial, and I was up last night cleaning up someone’s mess.” I cross my arms.
Axel snorts, then mimics my voice, “I’m Gage; I’m out here saving damsels in distress. I can be an asshole ‘cause I’m a hero.”
