The Divorcee Murder Club

Cuarenta Y Siete ~ 47

“You can’t leave her here.” I try passing Cha Cha back to her, but she ignores me and whips out her phone.

“Let’s take a selfie.”

“What?”

“Andale! Take a selfie with me. I look cute.” My mom stretches her arm and snuggles next to me, so I have no choice but to smile at the camera. “Ok, now one with Jackson in it.”

“Ma…”

“Deja de joder, and just do it!” my mom barks, then wedges herself between Jackson and me, a massive grin on her face. 

She snaps a few shots, and we humor her with smiles and poses. Then she kisses me on the cheeks, says goodbye, and swings open the apartment door to make her exit, but Angie is standing there. The woman looks as pale as the moon and holds the wall with one hand while the other is tucked in a sling. Beads of sweat freckle her forehead, and she’s breathing heavily.

“Jesus Christ, Angie! Shouldn’t you still be in the hospital?” I brush past my mom and guide her inside.

“Who is this?” my mom furrows her brows and closes the door behind us. 

I guess she’s staying for a few more minutes.

“Ma, this is Angie.” I motion between them. “Angie, this is my mom.”

“Nice to meet you…” Angie mumbles and eases onto the couch.

“You look like shit. Why would they discharge you so soon?” 

“They didn’t. I discharged myself.”

“What? Why!”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because of fucking Jeremiah!”

“Your ex?”

Angie’s eyes flick to my mom, then back at me. “Can I have some water or something?”

“Yeah, of course.” I head to the kitchen, but my mom intercepts with arms crossed.

“What is going on here?”

“I thought you had somewhere to be?”

“I do, but mijo, something is going on, and I don’t like it. I know how you get. You are up to no good. I just know it.”

“Ma.” I rest my hands on her shoulders and kiss her forehead. “Don’t worry about it. Go have fun with the girls in Reno.”

“But, mijo.”

“Ma. Go have fun.” I spin her around and escort her to the door. “Off you go.”

“Miguel!”

“Bye, Ma. I’ll look after Cha Cha.” I reach into my jacket hanging on the hook near the door and pull out a few hundred dollar bills. “Here, some spending money.”

“Miguel, wait!” 

“Love you. Have fun.” I close the door on her, and I know it’s a dick move shoving her out of the apartment, and she’s probably standing on the other side with hands on her hips, but she doesn’t need to be involved in my bullshit.

“Whoa…” Jackson says behind me. “Where did all that money come from?”

“What?” I whirl around and see the thousands of dollars spilled at my feet. The rest must have fallen out when I gave my mom the money. “Shit.”

“What the hell, man? That’s a lot of money.”

“Yeah…” I gather it up, but Jackson snatches a few bills.