mind was on the trial. It just pisses me
off that her father thinks he can call my boss about my personal life.”
Juliana shook her head. “That sucks. I'm
sorry.”
“The timing couldn't be worse. It's the
last thing I need to be dealing with right now.” He rubbed his face wearily. “I
have a bad feeling that things with her could get ugly before all is said and
done.”
“It got ugly when she hit you.”
Michael stared at her. “Yes, you're
right. It did.”
He looked so tired and sad that Juliana
had to resist the sudden urge to hug him. She swallowed hard. “Try to get some
sleep tonight. You need it.”
He nodded. “Good night.”
“Night.”
***
Early the next morning Juliana took the
extra chicken parm to her mother's house in Highlandtown. She had made that
drive almost every day for four years and could just about do it in her sleep.
Outside her mother's dingy rowhouse, Juliana took a moment to work up the
fortitude it took to walk into the house where she'd grown up. She didn't have
many happy memories of the years when there'd never been enough of anything—
money, love, affection... At twelve, she began babysitting the neighborhood
kids so she could pay for her own clothes, and she'd been working ever since.
Realizing time was getting away from
her, she got out of the car and went inside.
“Ma?”
Juliana put the food in the refrigerator
and went in search of her mother. She found her still sleeping and nudged her
awake.
“What do you want?” Paullina asked with
a nasty sweep of her hand.
“I just stopped by to bring you some
dinner for later,” Juliana said, attempting to straighten up the messy bedroom.
Clothes and newspapers were strewn about, an ashtray overflowed, and the
remnants of an all-night happy hour were on the bedside table. I'm so glad half my monthly income goes to
pay for this dump. “Have you been smoking in bed again, Ma? What've we told
you about that? You're going to burn the house down.”
Paullina sat up and defiantly lit a
cigarette. “What the hell time is it anyway?”
“Eight.”
She groaned and rubbed her head. “That's
too goddamned early.”
“I have to work at nine, and it would be
too late for dinner by the time I got here after. It was now or never.” Juliana
almost gagged as she picked up the ashtray and dirty glass off the table and
took them into the kitchen. Somehow a woman who couldn't get around to feeding
herself managed to have no trouble keeping up a steady supply of booze and
cigarettes. Despite numerous attempts, her children had been unable to identify
her supplier.
“How was your romantic weekend,” Paullina asked with a sneer as she took a long
drag on her cigarette.
Juliana returned the empty ashtray to
the bedside table. “It was great,” she said with a forced smile.
“I don't know why you stay with that
loser. He's never going to marry you.”
“Then it's a good thing I don't care
about being married,” Juliana snapped and then was mad at herself for taking
the bait. So many years of bitterness and booze had made her once beautiful
mother into an ugly person. Juliana waged a daily battle to keep from being
sucked into her web of misery.
Juliana's cell phone rang, and she saw
it was Mrs. Romanello, who lived next door to her and Jeremy. If Paullina was
Juliana's mother by birth, Mrs. R was the mother of her heart.
Juliana went into the living room to
take the call. “Good morning.”
“Hello, hon. Where are you hiding out? I
have some-thing here for you.”
“What is it?”
“A delivery. You'll have to come see.”
Juliana checked her watch. “I'm at my mother's. I'll stop by on my way to the
salon.”
“See you then.”
She went back into the bedroom. “I've
got to go.”
“Don't let me keep you.”
“Do you need anything?”
Paullina waved her hand. “With all this?
What more could I want?”
“I have something to do tomorrow after
work. Do you still have the money I gave you last week?
off that her father thinks he can call my boss about my personal life.”
Juliana shook her head. “That sucks. I'm
sorry.”
“The timing couldn't be worse. It's the
last thing I need to be dealing with right now.” He rubbed his face wearily. “I
have a bad feeling that things with her could get ugly before all is said and
done.”
“It got ugly when she hit you.”
Michael stared at her. “Yes, you're
right. It did.”
He looked so tired and sad that Juliana
had to resist the sudden urge to hug him. She swallowed hard. “Try to get some
sleep tonight. You need it.”
He nodded. “Good night.”
“Night.”
***
Early the next morning Juliana took the
extra chicken parm to her mother's house in Highlandtown. She had made that
drive almost every day for four years and could just about do it in her sleep.
Outside her mother's dingy rowhouse, Juliana took a moment to work up the
fortitude it took to walk into the house where she'd grown up. She didn't have
many happy memories of the years when there'd never been enough of anything—
money, love, affection... At twelve, she began babysitting the neighborhood
kids so she could pay for her own clothes, and she'd been working ever since.
Realizing time was getting away from
her, she got out of the car and went inside.
“Ma?”
Juliana put the food in the refrigerator
and went in search of her mother. She found her still sleeping and nudged her
awake.
“What do you want?” Paullina asked with
a nasty sweep of her hand.
“I just stopped by to bring you some
dinner for later,” Juliana said, attempting to straighten up the messy bedroom.
Clothes and newspapers were strewn about, an ashtray overflowed, and the
remnants of an all-night happy hour were on the bedside table. I'm so glad half my monthly income goes to
pay for this dump. “Have you been smoking in bed again, Ma? What've we told
you about that? You're going to burn the house down.”
Paullina sat up and defiantly lit a
cigarette. “What the hell time is it anyway?”
“Eight.”
She groaned and rubbed her head. “That's
too goddamned early.”
“I have to work at nine, and it would be
too late for dinner by the time I got here after. It was now or never.” Juliana
almost gagged as she picked up the ashtray and dirty glass off the table and
took them into the kitchen. Somehow a woman who couldn't get around to feeding
herself managed to have no trouble keeping up a steady supply of booze and
cigarettes. Despite numerous attempts, her children had been unable to identify
her supplier.
“How was your romantic weekend,” Paullina asked with a sneer as she took a long
drag on her cigarette.
Juliana returned the empty ashtray to
the bedside table. “It was great,” she said with a forced smile.
“I don't know why you stay with that
loser. He's never going to marry you.”
“Then it's a good thing I don't care
about being married,” Juliana snapped and then was mad at herself for taking
the bait. So many years of bitterness and booze had made her once beautiful
mother into an ugly person. Juliana waged a daily battle to keep from being
sucked into her web of misery.
Juliana's cell phone rang, and she saw
it was Mrs. Romanello, who lived next door to her and Jeremy. If Paullina was
Juliana's mother by birth, Mrs. R was the mother of her heart.
Juliana went into the living room to
take the call. “Good morning.”
“Hello, hon. Where are you hiding out? I
have some-thing here for you.”
“What is it?”
“A delivery. You'll have to come see.”
Juliana checked her watch. “I'm at my mother's. I'll stop by on my way to the
salon.”
“See you then.”
She went back into the bedroom. “I've
got to go.”
“Don't let me keep you.”
“Do you need anything?”
Paullina waved her hand. “With all this?
What more could I want?”
“I have something to do tomorrow after
work. Do you still have the money I gave you last week?
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