Page 22 of Indecent Ventures

I wonder if I should give him the name. And then I think why the hell do I care if Declan does something to him? I don’t owe Max anything. “Shwender. He lives over on Kings Lane.”

Declan nods, turns, and leaves.

For the next hour, I take care of Mom. I make her favorite foods, hug her while she cries, and even manage to get her in the bath. I pour her a glass of wine and tell her to just relax.

While she’s in the bath, there’s a knock at the door again. I open it to see Declan with our television under his arm. I see blood all over his knuckles.

“Is Max still alive?”

“He was breathing when I left.” He smiles. “Though his future ability to bear children is now in question.”

I can’t help the small smile that forms on my face. “A guy like that shouldn’t procreate anyway. Most people shouldn’t.” I certainly never will. “Did you get any video? I wouldn’t mind seeing that asshole go down.”

“Watch your mouth. No video.”

I open the door wider. He walks in and reconnects the television.

Afterward, while he’s at the sink washing the blood off his hands, there’s another knock at the door.

I open it to a delivery man with several bags of food. I turn back to Declan and raise my eyebrows.

He shrugs. “If we can’t go out, we’ll have dinner here.”

“Dinner for thirty people?”

He gives me a small smile. “I wasn’t sure that your mother would be up to cooking for the next few days. Now you’ll have leftovers.”

I nod. “Thanks, Declan. We appreciate it.”

* * *

PRESENT

“Mom, are you home?”

I hear her voice coming from the living room. “Yes, sweetie, I’m in here.”

Even though Mom moved to New York City when she got married a few years ago, she kept her small house in Philadelphia. She likes to come here and paint alone. She said she will always consider Philly her home and wants to visit me a lot. I told her I have plenty of room in my condo for her, but she insists on keeping this place. She texted me last night to let me know she’s in town and asked me to come over in the morning.

I walk into the living room. She’s sitting in her favorite chair, curled up with a book. She’s an avid reader. Always has been. I guess I get that from her. Perhaps all the romance novels she reads are the reason she still believes in fairy tales and happily ever afters. I just read them for the sex scenes.

My mom is an extremely attractive woman. We look nothing alike. She’s about eight inches shorter than me with brown hair and big brown eyes. She’s kept herself in great shape, with an amazing body. She never had issues finding interested men when I was growing up, I just don’t think she was ever looking in the right places. There were a long series of losers until she met Rick about nine years ago. They dated for five years before they got married, the first marriage for both of them. He’s a nice enough guy. A little boring for me, but he’s good to her and that’s all I really care about. I’m happy that she found someone, especially someone who doesn’t treat her like shit.

I thought they might consider having a baby, but that hasn’t happened. She got pregnant with me at twenty-two, my current age. She’s only forty-four, so it’s not completely out of the realm of reason.

“Good morning.” I hold up a coffee cup from her favorite, unique-to-Philly, café.

Her eyes light up at the sight. She stands, kisses my cheek, takes it from me, and inhales the aroma. “Hmm. Thank you. You’re my favorite daughter.”

“I’ll let my imaginary sisters know.”

She smiles. “Have a seat.” I do as she returns to her chair. “How are you? Catch me up on everything.”

“Work’s good. Busy, but good.”

“I can’t believe how much you’ve accomplished at such a young age. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

---