Our Little Secret

Chapter 43

Jack
Karen is still by the breakfast table when we get down, now doing something on her laptop.

"Hi, mum."

"Good morning, sweetheart." She looks warmly at Sarah and then returns to her computer.

"What are you doing?"

"Just checking my work-mail."

Sarah scowls at Karen, who puts up her hands in surrender. "Mum!"

"I know, I know. No work on weekends! I just have to check this little thing and then I'll let it be."

"Good." Sarah mutters. "You will have a stroke if you keep up working like this."

"I enjoy my work, Sarah." Karen's voice has a warning ring to it, revealing that this is old news being brought up again.

"I know, mum. I just don't want you to have a fit while trying to help others. Your own health is more important than the mental health of others." Sarah starts making herself a cup of tea.

"My health is perfect, thank you very much." Karen sounds offended, but she has a smile on her lips.

"Of course it is, but please keep in mind that you aren't getting any younger."

"Are you calling me old?" Karen narrows her eyes and Sarah flashes her dazzling smile.

"Of course not, beloved mother."

Her tea is ready, she fills her cup and kiss Karen's cheek before sitting down opposite of her.

Karen studies her daughter for a moment before shaking her head with a smile and returning to her laptop.

"Weren't you leaving?" Sarah suddenly turns to me, looking curious.

Her question brings me back and I check my watch, I'm late.

"Shit!" My outburst brings a smile to her lips. "I have to go!"

"Have fun!" She grins and I give her a
-are you kidding me- look.

"Fun? Right. See ya."

Sarah waves at me and Karen mumbles a good bye, frowning at her laptop. Sarah scolds her a bit more and they start discussing once more.

Not actually wanting to leave, I force myself out the door and into the car. Why, oh fucking, why do I have community service?

It isn't fair. Why the hell do I have to clean up buildings and help janitors and shit, but not fucking Thomas Jones? That kid were shit ass lucky for not getting into any of this shit. Probably thanks to his parents, I bet his old hag for a mum cried a bit in front of the judge. Well that and they could afford a better lawyer than me. If my parents hadn't gotten themselves killed...

My grip around the steering wheel tightens so much that my knuckles turn white.

Calm down Jack.

I turn up the music to silence my thoughts. The drive is quick and takes approximately about twenty minutes.

I stop outside today's punishment for my "reckless" behaviour; a museum.

~

"You shall clean the top floor, plus the stairs and organise all the flyers that we are giving out next week. There are three different kinds; the Roman Empire, the 20th century and the Great Wars of the Middle Ages. I want these to be in specific piles, not one of them shall be placed wrong! I'll leave them in the janitor's office while you're cleaning, you can head there when you're done. Understand?"