The Rules of Survival (Mercer #1)

RoS Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

It rained on Sunday.

I was almost convinced our little house would flood with icy water and it would be just another problem I could add to my ever growing list. To my relief the ceiling held and the doors did their job of keeping the water out.

Mycha and the kids spent most of the day in the smaller bedroom playing Go Fish. Teresa had holed herself up in her bedroom; I hadn't seen her since she'd disappeared on Saturday afternoon in a foul mood.

With the living room free I got to work folding the bags of clothes I'd taken to the Laundromat a few days ago. It also gave me a chance to reflect on everything that had happened these past two weeks - what had changed irreversibly, what needed to be done to accommodate those changes. The latter was obvious. As a result of Kalen's death, we had no income. I was pretty sure our rent was due soon, and a niggling feeling in the back of my mind told me to search out the latest power bill to see what we owed; I vaguely recalled Kalen mentioning it was overdue and I had no idea if he'd paid the bill before - well, before everything happened.

I certainly couldn't count on Teresa to take care of anything important - her current mental state left a lot to be desired - but I did grudgingly acknowledge that we'd have to sit down together and discuss what needed to be done to keep a roof over our heads and the heat on during winter. Whether or not she'd agree to talk with me remained to be seen.

We needed a plan and we needed it pronto. Teresa had no money, apart from the extra cash here and there that she was getting from who knew where. Given my recent luck, the police would break our door in to arrest her for doing over a small time drug dealer or something equally preposterous. And honestly, I wouldn't put it past my mother to use highly creative methods for scoring cash. Other than that, she'd spent her advanced pay from the diner and wasn't due back for another week.

I now knew exactly how she felt about me after years of only guessing, and a large part of me rebelled at the idea of approaching someone who hated me with a surprising intensity for help. But I also knew I couldn't do this by myself. I wasn't even going to kid myself into believing that I could keep us afloat and that everything would turn out just fine. A silver lining kind of girl, I was not. My best bet was that Teresa loved the kids as much as I thought she did and would therefore do whatever was necessary to keep them provided for.

Busy mulling these things over, I was halfway through the second bag of washing when I heard a door open and shuffling in the hall. A few seconds later Teresa appeared, laden down with a whole bunch of crap: clothes, shoes, the odd purse, a pile of papers. Without glancing in my direction she continued out the front door.

I raised an eyebrow at her odd behavior, remaining seated with a pair of Scout's track pants resting in my lap. What on earth was she doing now? I heard a muted curse and the slam of a car door and then Teresa was back in the house, the front door swinging shut behind her.

Drenched, she stalked past me once more, flinging her mass of curly brown hair back from her face.

She'd only disappeared from my line of sight for a second before loud crashes sounded down the hall. Rather than getting up to investigate what had my mother throwing things around her room, I tried to focus on the task at hand. I folded Scout's pants, dug around in the bag and pulled out a long sleeved tee that could have been mine, or could have been Mycha's. No sooner had I folded it and placed it to my left than Teresa reappeared, this time with two duffle bags, an armful of old files, and a pillow.

Consternation assuaged me, making my stomach clench in unease. The first armful of stuff I could have ignored. I mean, people threw junk out all the time. Granted, we were a little short on belongings in the first place to be throwing anything out willy-nilly, but I didn't expect Teresa to understand the value of even the littlest things we owned. Now, however, it was becoming quite obvious what she was doing and I thought I would become violently ill at the realization.