Changing Seasons

Thirty-Seven

****

"Ah, man, thank you," Krist told his mother appreciatively as she handed him a bowl of homemade clam chowder before sitting down across from him.

"When does Atira get into town?" Linda asked.

"She should be here around three, depending on traffic," Krist replied, crumbling saltines into the thick soup.

"Well, if she gets bored while you are at work she is more than welcome to come here. You know I'm not doing anything."

Krist took a bite of his chowder, "Goddamn, this is bomb. I'll let her know, I don't have to be in until eight so she might just sleep while I'm gone. I don't know."

Linda flashed her son a concerned look, "Have you thought about quitting that job? You make pretty good money doing the delivery thing, don't you?"

He took another bite, chewing, and shrugged. "Yeah, it's not bad. I can make like five, six hundred a week if I'm lazy and do half days. I can get closer to a grand when I work eight hours. This week I made over fifteen hundred."

"You still have the money that Bill gave you, right?"

"Yeah, I haven't even touched it."

"So if you quit the security job, you could make ends meet just fine, couldn't you?" Linda wanted to know.

"Yeah, but I don't want to just make ends meet, I want to be comfortable."

She studied him, "How much do you make doing security? If you don't mind me asking."

Krist leaned back in his chair, thinking for a moment. "Before tip out I get like a grand a month, under the table. Tip out can be like an extra five hundred or so. Just depends on how busy the girls are and how generous they wanna be with us."

"You don't ever worry about getting shot or anything? People are crazy nowadays." Linda added, "Plus Rocco needs you."

He took another bite of chowder, "You worry too much. Yeah, dumb shit can happen but I'm more likely to get spit on or thrown up on than shot."

"Krist."

"Mom, for real, it's the easiest job ever. Nothing like that happens at this club. It's mainly just a bunch of lame old white dudes that come in anyway." He laughed. "Anyways, how is that brother of mine?"

"Brad?"

"No, Mom, my other brother."

Linda shook her head, "Why are you such a smart ass? Brad is fine. Why do you ask?"

Krist shrugged, fighting back a knowing smirk. "No reason, just wondering. Not like he talks to me or anything."

"Krist, that's a two-way street. You know, I would love to see you both getting along and on good terms in my lifetime."

"Yeah, that ain't happening. Trust me." He replied, picking the label off a bottle of water.

Linda sighed, "I know you are polar opposites but one of you needs to crack. Maybe if you try to give him a chance and quit with the cold shoulder, he will warm up."

"Why does it have to be me? He's the one who thinks he's so much better than me. He legit thinks I'm a piece of shit."

"No, he does not. I promise you, Krist, he doesn't." His mother assured him.

Krist looked at her hard, the same way Rocco looked at him when he knew he was on some bullshit. "Brad had told you that?"

Linda hesitated, "Krist, I think you would get along better if you didn't come off so hostile towards him all the time."