No Way Out Fern Michaels (e reader books .TXT) 📖

“How come Daddy won’t bring me home?” Jackson still didn’t know why his father wasn’t around.

“Remember the big argument when the police came?”

“Yes.” Jackson was getting uneasy. He had tried to keep the memories of that evening at bay.

“Well, there are a few things that need to get fixed and figured out. I don’t want you to be in a ‘worry mood,’ OK?” She gave him a hug, and he giggled because she had used his word.

“OK!”

Chapter Fifteen

Mitchel decided to clean himself up for his big day with his son. Besides, he didn’t want any flak from his mother and wanted to make a good impression on his son. For a fleeting moment, he was feeling a little guilty about the morning when he had yelled at Jackson from the porch. If Colleen hadn’t dragged him away, maybe things would have turned out differently. He tried to move his thoughts to a better place, but he was stuck. He was stuck in a state of loathing. He couldn’t think of anything that was OK in his life, except for his son, and even he had been taken away from him. Mitchel gripped the sides of the sink and looked in the mirror. He needed a shave, for sure, but there wasn’t anything he could do about the bags under his eyes. He knew he had Visine eye drops in the glove compartment of his car. They were almost a daily routine. It would help with the bloodshot eyes but not the bags under them. He splashed cold water on his face, combed his hair, and took out the shaving cream and razor.

Ten minutes later, he took another good, long look. It was an improvement. He pulled the freshly ironed shirt from the hanger.

Elaine had been kind enough to wash and press a shirt for him. Little did he know she had ulterior motives—to get him the hell out, and if helping him clean up his act would facilitate his moving out, she would iron all of his shirts, pants, and underwear. Well, maybe not the underwear, but surely his socks. Maybe not those either, but desperate times called for desperate measures. If she could write him a check to get out, she would. It had been only two weeks, but she was at her wits’ end. The drinking was out of control. He had practically wiped out Greg’s entire bar stock. He hadn’t once cleaned the bathroom in the basement and always left a pile of dirty clothes on the futon. Since he wasn’t using it as a bed, he was using it as a laundry hamper. And it was going to stay that way. Ironing a shirt for when he was going to see his son was one thing. Being his personal maid was something entirely different. Elaine wondered how Colleen had been able to put up with him for as long as she had.

Mitchel climbed the steps, looking like a different person. He was showered and clean-shaven, and his hair was combed. He had on a clean pair of jeans and the shirt Elaine had ironed. His shoes needed a little work, but Elaine wasn’t going to mention it. “You look very nice, Mitchel,” she offered.

“Thanks to you.” Mitchel could turn on the charm when necessary. But it seemed as if he didn’t think it had been necessary for a while. “And thanks for putting up with me.” Now he was pouring it on thick. He knew he had been teetering on the edge of getting thrown out on his ass, and he surely didn’t want to go live with his mother. Spending the entire day with her was bad enough. At least he would have Jackson with him.

“What are your plans for today?” Elaine asked, as if she cared.

“We’re going to grab some lunch, then go to a movie. Maybe stop at the bowling alley if we have time.”

“Sounds good.” Elaine poured herself another cup of coffee.

“What time is your mother coming over?” She hoped it was soon and that she would only stay long enough to pick him up.

“In about fifteen minutes. She’s picking up Jackson at eleven.”

“Will she stay for coffee? I can put on a fresh pot.” Elaine held her breath, waiting for an answer.

“Nah. We’ll want to get moving.”

Elaine sighed in relief. Her mother-in-law could be one nasty old hag.

“After your visit, what do you think you’ll be doing?” Elaine was praying he would say “looking for an apartment,” but she knew that miracles rarely happened.

“If we go bowling, Ma will drop me off, then take Jackson home.”

“You’re coming here right after?”

“Not sure. Playing it by ear.” Mitchel reached for a cigarette and winked. “Going out back.”

As Elaine watched Mitchel exit the kitchen door, she thought how sad it was. He was, or at least had been, a nice-looking man. Tall, thin, sandy-brown hair, green eyes, and a big smile. He had had an excellent job at an auto-repair shop and was considered their best mechanic. That was until he started arriving late and not showing up a few times. Then, when he got arrested, Otto, the owner, couldn’t deal with him anymore. His life was in shambles at age thirty-six. Such a waste.

Elaine remembered when he had met Colleen. She was a sophomore at the state college and was home for the summer. She was working the arcade at the county fair when Mitchel first approached her. They started dating, and the rest, well, the rest had turned into a calamity. Mitchel’s mother didn’t like Colleen from the get-go. She thought Colleen was a bit uppity, being a college student and all. In turn, Colleen’s mother didn’t much like Mitchel. She thought Colleen “could do better.” Mrs. Griffin was right. Colleen could have and should have done better. Her mother-in-law, on the other hand, should have been kissing Colleen’s feet. Mitchel might have been good-looking and charming, but there was something about him that had never sat right with