Finally Grounded (Sequel To The One Who Grounds Me)

Chapter Forty-Three

Tristan

After breakfast

I took a sip of my coffee. Folding my legs, I stared at my guests with raised eyebrow. "So what exactly can I do for you?" I asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"You haven't been around lately." Martha said, ripping her napkin to shreds.

Maxwell, glupped down his shot of vodka. "He never use to be around in the first place. I don't know why he even decided to show up now. Ungrateful little brat." Maxwell said, in a scornful tone.

"For God sakes Maxwell!" Martha said.

"Here we go again." Julian said rolling his eyes.

"What the hell is your problem woman? The one day I took off work, you just had to drag here!"

"Everyone has to be here! I'm tired of the snide comments whenever Tristan's name is brought up." She snapped at him.

Maxwell glared at me, maliciously. "Life was good, when he wasn't around. I wish we could go back to those days."

"Maxwell!" Martha gasped, in horror.

"He's an embarrassment to the family."

"And he is your son."

"He's not my son. I keep telling you that boy is not mine."

I snorted at that.

His eyes narrowed at me. "Is something funny?" He asked, through gritted teeth.

"No no not at all." I said, waving dismissively. Picking up my cigarrette from the ashtray, I took a long draw.

"This is what I talk about Martha! He has no respect for me. He does whatever he pleases and that... God awful scar of his...." He pointed, his finger at the scar on my cheek. Instead of flinching, I puffed the smoke into the air. "... couldn't he have done, something about it? I'm sure his whoring mother left him enough money to last him for centuries."

I stared at him indifferently. His words couldn't hurt me, anymore. Over the years I've grown a thicker skin. There was no need for me, to get upset over something like this. "Funny how you can call her that after she is dead." I said, beaming.

Maxwell banged his chubby hands against the table. The sugar chair rattled before tumbling over. The snow coloured grains spilled on the surface of the glass table.

"Maxwell can you please just stop it for god sakes."

His eyes narrowed at me. "I will stop it when he leaves for good." He roared.

"I'm not leaving. What your conscience bothering you daddy?" He flinched. I stared him dead in the eyes. "Why did you stay with him Martha after all that he did?" I asked. I shook my head before taking a sip of my coffee. "You know what, don't bother answering."

"Could we just please be civilized about this. We're all adults here." Martha pleaded once more. Her teary eyes, glanced at me hopefully.

"You're the least civilized! Have you forgotten what you've done!" Maxwell slurred. "... they say you're a saint, but honestly you're the devil in disguise. Don't bother hiding it." Martha's face pales. ".... since today is about, coming clean why don't you tell that abomination the truth behind his mother's death?"

I tensed at that. "The truth? What the hell is he talking about mom?"

Martha flinched at my tone. Her hands shoot and the coffee cup, smashed to the ground.

"What I am trying to say, is....." Maxwell leaned, in. ".... your mother did not commit suicide. She was murdered...."

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