ODDS OF LOVE : SEASON EIGHT

Episode 53

" Whiskey," Faith said as she plopped down on her usual bar stool at the cop bar that was right across the street from the headquarters in Upper Marlboro. " Keep that shit coming. "

She lit up her cigarette with shaking hands. It wasn't just this fucking case from hell that had her rattled. No. She blew a smoke ring. She tapped her fingers on the sticky bar top.  No. It was the damn phone calls she was getting. And now on her cell from a number that was coming in restricted. From a woman that sounded just like Pamela. A woman that kept saying she had killed Pamela.

Damn. The bartender glanced wordlessly at her cigarette but didn't say shit as he put down her first shot of whiskey before her. She quickly picked it up and drained it. Was she going crazy or something? Hearing her dead ex ? Her big brother was bipolar after all ? Maybe it ran in the family.

She instinctively pulled out her phone and dialed a number she had actually memorized for some reason.

It rang a couple times before it was answered by the gruff but kind voice of Andrew Norland saying," Faith? Is this you? How are you? "

She hesitated. She wanted to talk to him. She needed to talk to him. She needed her father but she couldn't have Marvin Lane.

" Faith? Are you still there? "

Faith abruptly hung up. And drank her next whiskey as she thought about Pamela.

                  ---------

Nigel returned back home long before the children and his husband did. He was tired and getting a little cranky. He figured maybe he could get in a small nap before his family got back home but as he headed for the staircase he heard a brisk knock at the front door and realized that idea might not pan out.

As he opened the door he noticed his guest was an older White woman in her early fifties with silver blonde hair cut in a sleek bob style and slanted long lashed purple eyes.

Purple......

At the sight of the eyes his heart almost stopped. He had never in his life seen eyes like his. But there they were. Staring right back at him on his front porch.

The woman smiled at him warmly and opened her arms in a welcoming move. She said in a musical lilting voice that was edged with the lightest of a British accent," Oh. You look as handsome as I always dreamed you would be. Come here , luv. It's your mum. I'm your mother. "

He stepped backwards with his good eye widening in a lot of shock. His what ? His..... mother?

Suddenly a bit of anger hit him. Fucking bitch.

He opened his mouth and was about to cuss her out but nothing came out except a desperate wheezing sound. No. No ! Not now ! He hadn't had an asthma attack in forever..... Not now !

He fell to his knees onto the marble floor and grabbed his throat, coughing as he tried to suck in precious air.

The woman who called herself his mother looked alarmed. " Son , what is it ? Are you alright now? "

He managed to point up the long steep stairs with a trembling finger. " Inhaler..... My bedroom..... On dresser.... Help ......."

As he fought to breathe he vaguely saw the woman race into his home and then up the staircase.

Richard, his mind pleaded. Richard, help.