Unlovable (28 page)

“
Okay, let’s cut to the
chase. Gatto and Prescott have to pay for what they did, and
everyone they love is going to pay too. We’re not stopping until
you’re all dead.” A hint of bitterness crept into Alan’s voice
now.

“
I’m telling you, boys,
you’ve made a mistake.” George carefully righted himself, weary of
where the conversation was going.

“
Nice try, old man, but you
have to get up pretty early in the morning to fool a Dreser,” Bill
said. “Our family has been successfully trafficking heroin for
almost 30 years, and not a one of us has served jail time for it.”
Bill puffed his chest out as he spoke.

Heroin? George swallowed hard. “Listen
fellows, my name is George, it has been since the day of my birth.
Would you like to see my driver’s license?” He took another step
toward the house. Alan didn’t budge.

“
I’ve had enough of the
lies, Samuel. I’m afraid it’s time for you to die.” Alan whipped
out his pearl-handled knife and seized the old man by the coat
collar, heartlessly tossing him to the ground. George howled out in
pain, cradling his already tender hip.

“
Hurry, Alan, before someone
hears the old fool!”

“
My dear brother, you know I
never hurry my work. It gives me indigestion.” Alan laughed
wickedly. Bill shook his head.

“
Oh, alright, keep your
shorts on, but next time we’re not going to rush” Alan said,
squatting down and running the silver blade slowly across the old
man’s neck. George twisted violently and screamed out in agony.
Bill crouched down and slapped a hand across the man’s mouth,
cutting of the sound.

“
Let him scream, it makes it
all the more enjoyable.” Alan grinned and thrust the knife into
George’s soft stomach, basking in the cries now pouring out of
George.

“
This is better than any
drug. You gotta try it.” He gave the knife one more gratifying
twist before wiping the saturated blade off onto his black pants
and handing it over to his brother.

Bill didn’t care for knifes,
preferring to do his work with his fists and a 2x4. Tonight,
however, the need to avenge his brother’s death coursed strong
through his veins. Bill took the knife and shoved it roughly into
George’s side. “Nobody kills a Dreser and gets away with it,” Bill
said, lunging deeper.

“
I’m not Samuel,” he
whispered, already weakened by the blood loss.

“
George. George where are
you?” A gray-haired woman in a fuzzy yellow bathrobe and matching
slippers came waddling around the corner of the house. She was
accompanied by two rotund, brown and white bulldogs, their bellies
dusting the ground as they padded along on their leashes. “George!”
she screamed, spying the two men surrounding her fallen husband.
The dogs began howling savagely and pulling free of the woman’s
grip, bolted toward their downed master.

“
Oops, it seems we
do
have the wrong man.”
Alan laughed cruelly.

Bill drew the knife from the quivering
body and handed it to his brother. “No hard feelings, ah,
George?”

They left him there, wailing in agony,
running far too speedily for a pair of fleshed-out bulldogs to
catch them.

19

Maggie

It was hard to believe how much my
life had changed for the better since falling in love, most
notably, I was eating like a king. Every morning Seth greeted me
with a kiss and a bag from Bagel Heaven, in that order. He also
made us delicious homemade lunches, flat out refusing to buy
’cafeteria fodder’, as he called it.

Regrettably, my afternoons were still
dull. I spent them cleaning the house and looking after my mother
while he took care of Lunch Swap business. Then around seven, he’d
show up with dinner in hand for everyone, though my mother seldom
ate with us.

After dinner, we’d sit and do homework
until her reproofing became unbearable, then we’d head out to his
car and talk. Well, mostly talk. We still hadn’t discussed personal
boundaries, there hadn't been a need to, all he ever did was hold
and kiss me. Though I was relieved, I was sure when the time came
he wasn’t going to take it well. I was dreading that
discussion.

Whenever I was with Seth, I left my
cell phone with my mom in case she needed me. But she never called.
Her drinking had increased significantly since being released from
the hospital almost four weeks ago. So had her visits from Hoffman,
much to my dismay. I wondered if there was something romantic
between them, but the thought was so repulsive I wouldn’t let my
mind go there. She was growing thinner at an alarming rate and it
scared me. She was also sleeping more and more every day. When I
suggested she go to the doctor, she went off on an hour-long
tirade, reminding me once again that she was the mother, then she
grounded from seeing Seth for two days. I didn’t bring it up
again.

It was Sunday and Seth was
late picking me up for our lunch deliveries. When we pulled up to
Miss Ethel’s, she was standing on her porch wearing a bright green
jumper with a
fit to be tied
expression plastered on her face. She glared
directly at Seth, impatiently tapping her foot against the railing.
Her shoes were hard to miss, they were bright orange.

“
I apologize, Miss Ethel. We
had to switch the delivery schedule arou—”

“
Excuses are like armpits,
mister. Everybody’s got’em, and they all stink.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
She had finished crocheting a few blankets for the thrift store and
invited us in as she gathered them up. “Here ya go, done ahead of
sched’ul.”

“
They’re lovely, Miss
Ethel.” I smiled, hoping to smooth things over as I took them from
her.

“
Speakin’ of lovely, you
look good, Blue Eyes.” It was the name she often called me. “You
gainin’ weight, ain’t ya? And yur face is all rosy too. I told ya,
boy, give her some home cookin’ and she’d fattin’ up nicely. I’ll
bet she’s more fun kissin’ now too,” she said with a
wink.

“
Much more fun, Miss Ethel.
Thank you for the suggestion.”

She was right. I had gained weight,
twelve pounds to be exact. My clothes, which usually hung on me,
now fit better. I even had a few curves, though they were nothing
compared to Hillary’s. Miss Ethel wasn’t the first person to
mention the color in my face either, and I noticed how much
healthier my hair looked. It was actually shiny! No doubt, some of
the changes had to do with being loved, but it certainly didn’t
hurt that I was eating three square meals a day.

Outside, Seth scooped me into his
arms, leaving my feet to dangle several inches off the ground.
“Come here my fattin’ up girlfriend and give me some kissin’.”
After some yummy kissin,’ he set me back down.

“
Do you think I’m getting
fat? Look at how tight my jeans are.” I pulled at the waistband,
there was less than an inch give.

“
I’m not answering that
silly question,” he scowled as we got into the car.

“
It’s just that my jeans
have never been this tight before, it feels weird.” He continued to
ignore me. “Would you still love me if I weighed 300 pounds?” I
pulled down the sun visor and looked at my face in the mirror.
Puffing out my cheeks, I tried to imagine myself chubby. He reached
over and caught my puffed up face, turning it toward
his.

“
I’m in love with you, not
this fleshy exterior. Granted, it’s a lovely exterior, even though
it could use another 20 pounds or more, it’s simply a shell of who
you are. I love your soul, that’s who you really are, and this
lovely body is simply a beautiful bonus.”

As he kissed my forehead,
his angelic-like expression turned impish. “You know,
mathematically speaking,”
ugh, him and
math!
“if we were to figure how many square
inches of you there are, and then if I were to give you one kiss
for every square inch, at your present weight I’d be done in about
ten minutes. However,” he continued with his goofy delusion, “if
you weighed 300 pounds, it would take about a month to get them all
in. If you weighed 600 pounds, I’d probably be busy for a couple of
years, but if you weighed 800 pounds, and frankly, the mind boggles
at the thought, I’d probably have to kiss you your entire lifetime
to get through. So no matter how big you become, clearly, I
win.”

I let the subject drop.

“
Do you have any homework?”
he asked, rounding the corner near my home.

“
No, I’m done. Do
you?”

“
Yes, Spanish, but only an
hour’s worth. Do you want me to drop you off at your house until
I’m done?”

“
No, I have a book that
Julie’s been bugging me to read. Let me grab it, and I’ll read
while you’re studying.” It was a romance novel, not my usual genre,
I was more of a historical fiction person, but the novel was quite
popular at school, and I was curious about all the
hoopla.

“
Sounds good. What’s the
name of it?”

I told him and he groaned. “Mags,
vampires don’t sparkle,” he said dryly.

“
Seth, vampires don’t really
exist, and your only concern is that these ones sparkle?” He shook
his head. “And I suppose you think people really walk down the
street and break into song and dance spontaneously?” I teased,
making fun of the musicals that were near and dear to his
heart.

“
Those movies are classics.”
I mouthed the words as he said them.

When we got to my house, I
ran in and found Hoffman sitting alongside my mother, each with a
drink in their hand. She hurled a couple of insults in my direction
while Hoffman’s eyes
grazed over me. Yuck!
I grabbed the novel and left.

At Seth’s, we found Booker parked in
the driveway, leaning against the hood of his car. “Hey, Booker,
good to see you.” The two men greeted each other with a warm
handshake.

“
Hello, Maggie.” He smiled
as Seth wrapped his arm around my waist. “How is your mom
doing?”

“
About the same, thanks for
asking.” Seth led us into the house, and I sat down on the bar
stool while they stood in the kitchen talking.

“
How’s Sam?” Seth asked,
pouring Booker a glass of homemade lemonade.

“
That’s why I’m here. There
was another murder last night. This one was on the east side of
town near my place.” Seth’s eyes narrowed as Booker described what
happened.

“
One of my father’s friends,
George Keifer, was taking out his garbage around 11 P.M. When he
didn’t return, his wife went looking for him with their two portly
bulldogs in tow. She found him on the side of the house with two
men hovering over him as he lay on the ground. They took off
running when the dogs broke free.” Seth led him into the living
room and they sat down on the couch.

“
He’d been stabbed several
times and died within seconds after she reached him.” Booker
adjusted the huge gun that sat on his hip as they talked. I got the
feeling they wanted privacy so I excused myself and started
preparing lunch, clanging bowls and doing my best not to listening.
Try as I may, a few words still broke through, words like
“revenge,” and “drug trafficking,” words I didn’t want to hear. I
hoped Booker’s grandfather was safe because it sure didn’t sound
good. When they finished, I asked Booker if wanted to stay for
lunch.

“
No, thanks,” he smiled.
“You are a lucky man, Seth. Better not let her go.”

"Not a chance," he said firmly. I
blushed, they laughed.

After lunch, we sat on the couch
eating homemade chocolate cookies we’d baked last night. Seth
hadn’t mentioned Booker’s visit, but I could tell it was bothering
him. Sam was his friend and he was probably concerned for his
safety. “I got the impression Booker’s worried about his
grandfather. Is everything alright?”

“
He’s a little anxious
because the murder was so close to his home. Now,” he said,
abruptly changing the subject, “how about we watch a movie? Maybe
something scary. I’m thinking Alfred Hitchcock’s
Psycho
?”

I shuddered. “A scary movie? Is that
some kind of subliminal plot to trick me into snuggling with
you?”

“
I hoping to steal a few of
those incredible kisses of yours during the movie.”

“
Like you have to steal
those from me. For you, they’re free for the taking.” I wrapped my
arms around his shoulders; they were tense. I thought to press the
whole Booker issue except it seemed a little hypocritical of me to
pry. I pressed my mouth to his instead. The tension slowly eased
from his body the longer we kissed.

“
Okay, lets watch
Psycho
,” he said,
breathless.

“
Why don’t we snuggle
and
you
can scare
a few kisses out of me instead of watching a creepy
movie?”

“
No way! It’s a great movie,
you’ll love it.” He rubbed his hands together
sinisterly.

“
I doubt it.”

And I was right. By the time
the movie finished I was a nervous wreck. Half the time my face was
hidden behind a pillow, the other half was spent
wishing
my face was
behind a pillow, and never once did I kiss him.