The Space Between

by Victoria H. Smith

  “No.” I actually wished I had after he said that.

  “To the car,” was all he said to me, then spoke with the officer.

  Putting her fringe shawl in her other hand, Mom wrapped her arm around me and led me from the room. I didn’t need to know what Father was staying behind to do. He was closing loose ends and getting the confidentiality details worked out. Like my poker game, being at a place like this wasn’t a new experience. I’d seen a couple of precincts.

  When Mom and I got outside, the navy Bimmer was out front. My sister’s familiar face could be seen from the backseat. I wished they hadn’t brought her. I didn’t like her seeing places like this, being around all the scum. I believed they mostly dragged her along tonight to scare her, a “don’t be like your brother or you could end up here” kind of thing.

  I was barely in the car before Adele placed out her porcelain hand on the seat, waiting for payment.

  Shaking my head at her, I gave her all I had left in my wallet. “You’ll get the rest tomorrow after I’ve gotten some sleep,” I whispered so Mom wouldn’t hear.

  Smiling, she didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. She knew I was good for it.

  “Truman, how could you do this to your father? And on his big night.”

  In the car not thirty seconds and Mom already lit into me.

  “We’ve barely been in this city a few weeks, and you’re already giving the family a bad name. For once, can you think about anyone else but yourself? There are four members in this family, and you—”

  My father came out of the precinct, and she stopped talking instantly. My mom was well aware of the drill.

  After the old man got inside and took his seat, we headed out of the West Side and back to the North Shore.

  The car ride remained in eerie silence all the way to the house.

  Chapter Ten

  Lacey

  I pulled the receipt off the prescription I picked up for Mama on the way home from the cast party. I didn’t want to stress her out about the price difference since they were out of the generics today. When I opened the apartment door, Mama was lying on her hip in front of the refrigerator. The door to the fridge was open, and she was surrounded by spilled orange juice and randomly displaced cherries that used to be in a bowl inside the refrigerator.

  I dropped her bag of meds.

  “Mama!” Rushing over to her, I grabbed her arm to help her up.

  “Oh, child, I’m fine. I just had a coughing fit and got stuck here for a few minutes.”

  “What were you doing out of bed?” Putting the frail black woman under my arm, I made my way through the small two-bedroom home.

  She coughed so hard we had to stop for a moment. “I wanted some juice.”

  “That’s what your mini fridge is for.” Damn foolish woman. She was going to get herself hurt. What if I’d been out longer? She’d have been stuck there for God only knew how long.

  “It was out of the juice I like. The one that soothes my throat.”

  “I’ll go out and get you some in the morning. Just don’t leave your bed again.”

  I helped her to her bedroom and sat her on the bed surrounded by pill bottles and nail polish. Interesting combination, but no one could keep the woman from painting her nails. My place used to be the spot to be for sleepovers in my neighborhood. All my friends always wanted one of Mama’s manicures. That was before she was sick, though.

  After retrieving a fresh nightgown from her drawer, I helped Mama out of her sticky one from the spilled juice.

  “So are you going to tell me about your big performance, or do I have to wait all night?”

  I stopped messing with her sleeve and snapped my head up. “How did you find out already?”

  “Gladys.”

  My aunt. Of course. I would have to thank my cousin Derrick for giving her the jump before I could tell my own mother.

  “And why did I have to hear it from her? You should have called me right after curtain call.”

  I chuckled as I pushed her back in her clean gown and covered her with the blankets on the bed. “Sorry. Everything just happened so fast, and then the cast party was right after. I was just completely overwhelmed I guess.”

  I purposely left out the part about the guy I met. I just didn’t see the point.

  Mama gave me that glamorous smile of hers that could light up an entire room. In her heyday, the expression and her movie star features gained her lots of attention and many proposals. There was no denying my mama’s beauty, and her sickly ninety-two pound frame could never hinder it.

  She grabbed my hand, and I climbed into bed with her. Getting myself cozy on her side, she ran her fingers through my long, dark curls.

  “Tell me all about it. I want to know everything,” she said.

  Thinking about when I first stepped onto the stage and the heat of the spotlight hit my cheeks, I couldn’t stop smiling. “Mama, it was amazing. The theater was packed and all eyes were on me. They all just sat there in silence, listening intently like I was something really special, you know? And then, when it was over, they actually stood and applauded. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “You are something special.” She kissed my forehead. “And don’t you forget that. That talent of yours is going to take you so far out of this place. Out of the ghetto like I never could.”

  I snuggled up to her when I heard the sadness in her voice. Mama had a box of playbills hidden away in her closest from her shows downtown. She always got the lead roles in the off-Broadway shows at the big theater. She was a really big deal, something special. She yelled at me when she saw me rooting through the box. At the time, I didn’t understand why she yelled at me, and being as young as I was, I told her I hated her. It wasn’t until years later that I understood they were hidden away for a reason. Seeing them represented her failures, failures from getting wrapped up with my deadbeat dad. He was the reason she stayed here. He got her pregnant then dropped her flat; only to come back for money and sex sporadically. Once she got sick, he never came back. It was two years after that last day he walked out that I stopped looking out the window for him; the day I grew up.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’m taking care of you,” I said.

  “That’s not what those callback papers mean that are shoved in the bottom of your sock drawer.”

  My jaw dropped open. “You were going through my stuff? And why were you out of bed?”

  “I just happened to be looking for those pink, fuzzy socks of yours. My feet were cold.”

  “Sure, they were.” She saw the day I snuck out for the first round of auditions. Of course she’d be rooting through my stuff to find the request for callbacks they sent out in the mail.

  “Your word against mine, honey-child, and it doesn’t matter whether I found them or not, you’re going to go to that final round of auditions. Then, when you get into the show, you’re going with the rest of the company overseas to perform it.”

  “I only auditioned because Margot was bugging me about it, something about the stars being aligned in the moment. You know I can’t leave you. Who would pay the bills?”

  “Once you’re big and famous in those French opera houses you can send the money back. You auditioned for the lead, didn’t you?”

  I sighed. “Yeah, but it’s a small show over there, bottom of the barrel. Not to mention, I still haven’t actually gotten the part yet.”

  “So you work your way up. You step on that stage, Lacey girl, and they can’t help but love you. You’ll make it big quickly. And don’t worry about that part. If you audition for it, you’re going to get it.”

  She was worse than Margot with her dreamer talk. Perhaps because she wanted so badly for me to have what she couldn’t achieve.

  Mama coughed so hard that she had to let me go to cover her mouth.

  I leaned out of her bed to grab a bottle of water off her bedside table. When I reached for it, I knocked one of her hardback novels off the end. The book hit the floor
, and a piece of paper flew out of the pages.

  I only read the first few lines, but the signature at the bottom told it was the result of Mama’s latest tests at the hospital.

  While scanning the letter the doctor’s medical jargon was too confusing for me to understand, but the revised list of recommended treatments was definitely not lost on me. The doctor was requesting new treatments to be made. He was requesting new ones because the latest must not have worked.

  I picked up the letter and handed it to her.

  She barely even looked at it.

  “You hide your papers, I hide mine,” was all she said.

  Chapter Eleven

  Drake

  “Drake.”

  I cracked open my eyes.

  My sister shook my shoulder.

  I shut my eyes. If I opened them completely, the sun would act like a switch that triggered the product of my hangover. With the amount of Jack Daniel’s I downed after I got home last night, a headache was a given, and waking up for my sister wasn’t worth the pain.

  “Drake.” She shook me again.

  When I didn’t say anything, she smacked the back of my head.

  I was a champ. I didn’t move.

  My bed sprang up when she left my side. Believing I won, I smiled. That was when the cold front hit my head in the form of ice cubes.

  I leaped from my bed. “Dammit, Adele!”

  Ruffling the wetness from my hair, I froze when she snickered.

  Instinctively, I covered my junk. I usually slept in the buff. But upon feeling the silk of my black boxers, I dropped my hands. Thank God I was so wasted last night I forgot to strip.

  “Eww, gross. Don’t worry. I peeked in first to make sure you were clothed. Do you think I want nightmares?” She laughed.

  Off my initial adrenaline, my head pounded like Thor took his hammer to it. Dropping back to my bed, I put my head in my hands and rubbed my temples. “Please tell me this is not about your damn money. I told you I’d get it to you when I woke up, and I would’ve woken up eventually.”

  With the amount of alcohol in my system, it would have probably been around three p.m., but still, I would have gotten up.

  “No, this isn’t about the money. I woke you up so you could hightail it out of here before Mom comes for you.”

  I scratched into my bed hair. “Why? What does she want?”

  Mom wouldn’t even look at me after I got home last night. She and Father ended up in the study for over an hour. There was a lot of Father’s voice. None of Mom’s. I felt guilty about that. She usually took the verbal punishment for my actions, exactly why I ended up with a bottle last night.

  “I don’t know, but I have a feeling nothing good. At breakfast this morning, she told me to tell you not to leave if I saw you before she got back. She just got back, and she had a weird look in her eyes, Drake.”

  My brows shot up. “What kind of look?”

  “It was super freaky. She looked determined, really determined. Like she was up to something. I didn’t like it one bit, and I know it means nothing good for you. You need to leave before she finds you.”

  Drawing in a breath, I pushed a long current of air through my nose. My Mom had never been one to punish me for anything, but if Adele was having a feeling it was best not to ignore the information. She was pretty spot-on when it came to her instincts about Mom. Kept me out of trouble a few times when I would have gotten caught doing something. “Thanks for the heads up.”

  “Good luck.” She skirted out of my room and closed the door.

  Running my hand through my hair, I grabbed a graphic tee out of my walk-in closet. Once I snagged my jeans off a hanger, I got those on, then a pair of sneakers. Casual wear was best when it came to fleeing a scene. Thanks to the cardio I had to do for the swim team in high school, I was an excellent sprinter.

  After I left the closet, I ruffled through the dirty clothes in my linen hamper, looking for the ones I striped off before I fell asleep. Finding them, I groaned. I still had Omar’s uniform.

  I stiffened.

  Omar.

  Damn, I hoped he didn’t lose his job. I’d have to call the country club to make sure he didn’t.

  As I sought for my car keys in the dress slacks, I made a mental note to have the uniform pressed and sent back. I’d have to do it myself since Mom hadn’t hired a housekeeper yet.

  Patting the pants, I couldn’t find my keys. Assuming I left them on the key ring by the door, I left my bedroom.

  Checking for sounds as I made my way through the brown brick, split-level ranch home, I scurried down the stairs. No Mom yet, but that woman was stealthy. If she wasn’t my docile mother, I’d say she used to work for the CIA.

  Escaping the stairwell, I made it across the polished floor. When I got to the large, double wooden doors, I grabbed my aviators from the ledge of the coat rack. I went for my keys next, but they were gone.

  “Looking for these, Truman?”

  A set of keys jingled behind me after Mom’s voice. I turned and she was spinning the keys around her finger. As always, my sister was right. Mom did have a weird look in her eyes. It was hard, ambitious, and not normal for her. My mother pretty much always went with the flow, and was very much a pushover. Like I said, I couldn’t recall the last time I was punished. Adele and I pretty much got away with anything growing up, so whatever this look was, it wasn’t good.

  Gripping the keys, she placed her hands in front of her waist. “Follow me, Truman.”

  I took off my aviators and followed her petite stature to the living room of the house. She took a seat on the beige-colored loveseat only after I sat on the matching couch across from it. The set up was very disciplinary, like a principal talking to a student. The environment couldn’t have been more foreign to me.

  After tossing my keys on the coffee table in front of her, she straightened up and pressed down her cream, pleated skirt. “I believe you know what this is about.”

  I didn’t say a word because I did.

  She gave a short laugh, but she didn’t look in the least bit amused. “I don’t know where to start first. The fact that you abandoned your father on his debut night, or the massive amount of marijuana you had that landed you in jail.”

  “They didn’t put me in jail—”

  “You will not talk until I’m finished,” she said, her porcelain jaw clenched.

  I shut up immediately. What was up with this? Who was this woman, and where was my mother?

  “You forced your sister to participate in unholy acts yet again. I mean, really, Truman? Gambling? She’s fifteen. You don’t need to be dragging her into the sinner’s lifestyle you’ve created for yourself.”

  With the way she was acting, I wasn’t about to tell her the bet was Adele’s idea this time. God, my father must have really laid into her last night. That had to be the reason this crazy woman who used to be my mother now sat in front of me.

  “Everyone at the country club kept asking me about my son. They said he was charming and wondered what part of Asia your father and I adopted him from. When I told them they looked at me like I grew a second head!”

  Cautiously, I opened my mouth. “You didn’t fire him did you?”

  “Of course he was fired. He had no business helping you. They don’t need that kind of help around there.”

  With a quick call from me, he’d have his job back. I’d make sure to take care of that after Mom finally let up here. Omar wouldn’t lose his job because of me. I’d give my mother a week, and she’d forget she’d even gotten him fired. My mother never looked at the people she asked for her martinis and croquet mallets. She’d never know he was rehired.

  “You’ve completely lost control, Truman. You do whatever you want, whenever you want to do it, and you don’t even care who it effects.” Her expression tight, she shook her head. “Doing things like what occurred last night in the middle of a campaign fundraiser is unacceptable. You could cost your father his re-election for pity sake.
He relies on those sponsorships and relationships to win his campaigns.”

  “And what about the rest of us, huh?” I asked, not able to hear anymore. “Why does the perfect little family have to be locked up while he’s out there doing whatever the fuck he wants—”

  “You will not use that type of language in this house and in front me. The son I raised doesn’t do that.”

  Letting out a breath, I turned my head.

  “You leave me no choice, Truman. Your father is too close to election day for you to mess this up for him now.”

  Narrowing my eyebrows, I took in what she just said. “What do you mean I leave you no choice?”

  “I’ve decided to hire some help.”

  “Help?”

  She nodded. “With your father being in the midst of the election, he’ll need me more. I going to be more active in the community and won’t be around the house very much. So, I’m going to need some help.”

  The fact that she needed help wasn’t uncommon knowledge because we usually had it. Why the big dramatics about me leaving her no choice?

  “Someone will be here to do the cleaning, the cooking, and taking Adelaide to and from her activities among other things.”

  The words “among other things” perked my ears. “And those ‘other things’ would be?”

  “The help will always be here when I’m not.”

  “Okay.”

  “And therefore will run things the way I want them run when I’m not here.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “I’m trying to say that starting today you will have a curfew. Midnight on the weekdays and 2:00 a.m. on the weekends, and whenever you decide to go out for social activities your whereabouts will be logged on the family schedule located on the refrigerator.”

  I actually laughed. “Surely, you’re joking. I’m nineteen.”

  Her expression was completely serious. “I assure you I’m not.”

  I laughed again, still thinking she was messing with me. “You are aware of the fact that I’m moving out for college soon.”