Fire of My Loins

Chapter 2

My hair was still dripping upon my slumped shoulders. I stared at the wooden floor of my bedroom and I had lost track of time. How much time has passed since I sat here? My throats is still warm from the glass of wine and flashes of the night before sent chills down my spine.
A sharp knock on the door snapped me back in time. My hands gripped the glass and I didn't even realize that I had spilled it. Harold, peters butler, entered the room and gave me a soft smile. His wrinkles crinkled around his faded blue eyes and gave a small chuckle.
"You have a message from your mothers care taker. She said it was urgent and that she'll be waiting for you at her house."
Mother. Of all people. I nodded and he spun on his heel and like that the old butler was gone. I bit my nail and thought for a minute. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad to see her, hopefully she's changed after overcoming her illness.

My heeled boots crunched under the gravel driveway and the atmosphere of the suburbs had me calm. Letting my self in to the house felt strange. How many years has it been since I've been in here? It felt so queer, I made my way the through the empty house to mothers room. Her door was closed but I could hear the footsteps inside. I gripped the door knob and took a deep breath.
There she was in her bed, old, brittle, and pale. Her nose had oxygen tubes and her wheezing was still in tact.
"Momma." I whispered and her eyes fluttered open.
"Well, well, well. Look at what the cat dragged in. There's my little whore."
The nurse turned to look at my mother in complete shock and flicked her eyes at me. I waved it off and proceeded to make my way to her bedside.
"Glad to see you haven't changed a bit, momma." I said and patted her hands. She rolled her eyes and looked to her nurse.
"Oh I'm sorry, I called because well, your mother needs something's she said only you'd know how to get," the nurse gave a quirky smile and I turned my eyes to mother.

"Hmm yes. Can you give us a moment?" I gave her a small smile and she quickly nodded making her exit.
I turned to face my mother and she only rolled her eyes.
"Let's cut the crap and get back to what's important," she whispered. I already knew what she was going to ask ,but I still wanted to see if maybe she's changed.
" I need some powder, I know your still with Peter. Get me some. He'll probably give it to me real cheap too. Since your dating my drug dealer your the only person I could turn to."
My eye twitched and for some reason a felt like laughing.
"So that's it? You didn't want to see me you just wanted coke?! God, mother your still the same! I mean look at yourself!," I cried and motioned to her vegetable state. Anger flushed through her face and without warning her hand flung out, smacking my cheek. The warmth and pain on my cheek were numb, it felt like nothing to me anymore. Years of it from her and Peter made it seem like a soft kiss.
"I believe I'm done here. Good-bye momma." I stepped closer and planted a kiss on her forehead. She was still flooded with anger and as I turned to leave she gripped my wrist.
"Believe what you will Lana, but you'll always be that mans whore and nothing else! You'll always be nothing but that!"
I looked at her, searching her face for the caring mother she used to be. Instead I gave her a sympathetic smile and pushed her hand away.
"Just like you momma, now if you'll excuse me.," I made my way out and passed the nurse who had a worried look on her face. The breeze outside let me cool off and once in my car I made my way to my favorite diner.
My fingers held the cool malt glass and I just stirred the contents around with a spoon. Maybe my mother was right but this is who I chose to be. What more can I have, I already have money, peters alleged power and glory. I sighed and took the spoon full of ice cream in my mouth. A gentleman sat next to me, his elbow bumped mine, spilling my malt on the counter.
"Aw geeez, I'm sorry! I'm kind of in a hu-," he stopped mid sentence his dimpled cheeks giving me a small smile. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, " Hey, I know you, it's me, Patrick?"
I gave him a puzzled look and studied his face. His comb over, blazer and Ramones tee shirt didn't seem familiar. The only Patrick I knew was in junior high...
"Oh my god! Patrick?!" I laughed and gave him a hug. We use to be best friends, until I dropped out of school.
He laughed his dimples showing and all. He looked me over and smiled.
"Wow, look at you, fur coat, leather pants. You are stunning. What happened to you? I thought you died!" He cried jokingly and gave me a pat on the arm. I smiled and gave a half faked laugh. He looked more handsome than he did in school. I flushed as his smile beamed at me and I forgot he was talking to me.
"I've been, uh busy, but I'm glad to see you again! You look well too," I said and motioned him to join me.
"I'd stay but I actually have to go, I had a ten minute break. I work down the street, tell you what, I'll give you my number and we can hangout okay?" He handed me his business card and flashed his dimpled smile. "I'll see ya around, yea?" He gave me a quick squeeze and with that he was gone. I starred at his card and the direction he left. It read 'Patrick Mackenzie, artist and comic book collector/seller.' A laugh escaped me and I found myself smiling until my cheeks hurt from all the memories we used to have. He always caused me joy and laughter.