The Good Son Carolyn Mills (best english novels to read txt) 📖

started screwing around again. If he hadn’t already. And yet all Mom saw was the miracle of Ricky’s little girl and how much joy that tiny wrapped up bundle of pink was going to bring her.

I was twenty-seven when Ricky became a dad, and a little worried about my own prospects regarding having a family. And here was Ricky, my jerk of a brother, on his second wife, and now with a baby to boot. I felt sorry for Erika. Partly because she looked so awful and partly because now she was irrevocably tied to my brother, no matter how things turned out for the two of them. Even if she wanted to, she would never be truly free of Ricky.

Mom was all smiles. She was so proud of her son, you could tell. On that day, everything was forgiven. The past, the heartaches, every single little disappointment.

Which is why I believe she might also finally forgive me for the way things ended with Amir if I actually end up marrying Jason. Amir and I were never married — unlike Ricky and Lauren and Erika and now Brenda — but that small fact makes no difference to Mom. “You were engaged,” she says. “That’s as good as married in my books.”

But when Leah was born, I was still disappointingly single, and had been for a long time. I was years away from even meeting Amir, and all of Mom’s energy was focused on Ricky and Erika and the new life they had brought into being. You would think they were the first humans to procreate, the way she went on.

I had a very different reaction. Whenever I looked at Leah, my heart thudded with guilt. And fear.

PART FOUR

CHAPTER ONE

•

ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, AFTER MY horrible sleepless night, even though I know I’m not expected to be at work, I get up early. I check with Bruce to make sure he found someone to cover for me, then warn him that he should probably find someone for tomorrow, too.

“My interview is on Friday,” I say. “So, I guess I have to be better by then.”

He doesn’t say it, but I can imagine what he’s thinking: I’m not doing myself any favours as far as Crystal Clear Solutions is concerned.

“Yeah, get on that, would ya?” he jokes.

He makes no mention of rescheduling the interview. I don’t ask about the possibility either because, quite frankly, Friday feels so far away. Anything could happen between now and then. By Friday, my tidy little life could be blown completely to bits.

I don’t want to leave the house, but I need more Sudafed. And maybe some NeoCitran. My goal is to stock up on enough cold and sinus medication to be able to sink into drug-induced oblivion. Later, when I’ve had some much-needed rest, I’ll talk to Ricky properly. And Mom. And Jason. I have to talk to Jason. To warn him.

Stofer’s Pharmacy isn’t far from my house, but I don’t have the energy to walk. I park right out front and just as I’m stepping around the hood of my car, I hear my name.

“Zoe?”

I look up and for a second I think I must be hallucinating. Amir is standing outside the door of the pharmacy. At first, I am too stunned to speak. Finally, I say, “Amir. I — I didn’t know you were here. In town, I mean. Hi. Wow.” We’re standing next to each other now and he’s looking at me with a quizzical expression that could just be surprise, but I also think he’s expecting me to say something else and I’m just staring back at him, my arms hanging uselessly at my sides. “I’d shake your hand or hug you or whatever, but I’m sick,” I say. “Sorry. Wow. I don’t really know what to say. I —”

“I thought I might run into you, but I didn’t think you’d be one of the first people I saw,” Amir says. “I just got in last night. I’m here for a bit to help out my aunt.”

“Right. I heard … about your aunt. Mom mentioned it. How is she? How are you?” My legs are trembling and I can feel my nose about to drip, but perversely I make no move to end the conversation.

Amir looks at me steadily for a minute. “I’m good.” He lifts the paper bag in his hand as if just remembering he’s holding it and adds, “I should run, though. Aunt Maureen’s waiting for this.”

“Of course,” I say. I motion to the pharmacy door. “I need to get in there myself.”

He nods. “It was nice seeing you, Zoe. And I mean that.” Then he is walking away from me and I enter the pharmacy completely disoriented.

MOM CALLS JUST BEFORE TEN. I don’t hear her message until much later though, because I am asleep when she leaves it. As I listen to her breathless recording, my heart starts racing.

“Hi Zoe. They sent me home a few hours ago and you’ll never believe what I just found out. Call me as soon as you can, okay?” Her voice sounds urgent, but not panicked. She does not sound like a woman who just had a heart attack, which should be reassuring, and if her message has anything to do with Amy Nessor, she shouldn’t sound so excited. She must have seen the news about Darius, though. I’m still half-convinced that’s what caused her to have a heart attack in the first place. But then why hasn’t she mentioned the case to me yet? You’d think from the first moment the news aired she’d be calling to ask if I’d seen it. Unless, like me, she’s biting her tongue, just waiting for the hammer to drop. But then, if that were true, she wouldn’t be calling now, with this voice, this breathless excitement.

I’m relieved she’s home from the hospital. Even though she sounds fine, I can still taste the panic from Linda telling me about her heart attack. How did she get