Forlot: The Mom Who Lives Next Door - Book Twelve

Chapter Fourteen

I was going to ask my mother why she claimed that Kira was the one responsible for the bomb, but decided to wait and let her explain herself.

Milo and I sat on the couch, and my mom sat between us. I carefully laid the doll on the table.

Mom was running both of her hands through her hair. "Oh my gosh..."

Even though that I was not fond of Kira, in no way did I hate her. She was annoying, sticking her nose in where it did not belong and treating me like a young child, not a teenager. But she was at least kind and considerate to me and Amy. More so than Dad. So I was kind of surprised that Mom blamed her.

Mom pulled her hands away, and strands of her hair fell over her face. She did not bother to move them out of the way and placed her hands in her lap. Before, she looked like the ideal mother. Clean and caring. Now, she looked like a crazy woman who recently escaped from an asylum.

"There...there is something that I have yet to share with you, Jackson," Mom said. "I did not want to tell you because...I did not want you to think less of me."

I felt bad that my own mother would say such a thing. I loved her no matter what. After all, I knew the type of person that she was. Helpful and loving.

I patted her shoulder, giving her some reassurance. "It is okay, Mom," I said. "I will never think any less of you. I know who you are and what you are capable of. Besides, whatever you have to say cannot be that bad."

She was staring down at her lap. "I do not deserve a son like you." She wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close to her. "What if I told you that...I stole something?"

You would think that I would be in shock for her stealing, but I stayed calm and collective. Why? 'Cause we all make mistakes. We do things that are wrong and hopefully learn from them. In fact, I punched a guy in the stomach one time not because I was defending myself. I just did not like him.

He was a bully, okay. Not my bully though.

Milo, however, did not react the same way. He freaked out and made it a big deal.

"Ooh!" he said. "Donna, you stole?"

By the look on her face, I could see that my mom was ashamed. "Yes, yes. I did. But hear me out. Listen to my side of the story. Please."

I waved a hand up and down at Milo. "Do not get worked up because of him, Mom. I am your son. Did I make it a huge deal that you did what you did? Nope."

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she wiped it away. "I am so blessed to have a son like you."

"And I am blessed that I have the best mother ever."

She giggled softly. "Jackson, do you remember when I worked at the oil factory?"

"Yes, I do. You were there about a year before we moved to Forlot."

"That is correct. A few weeks before I quit - and this is the main reason why I quit - I met a girl. She had just started working there, and the two of us worked in the same area. We did not become friends, but we did get along with each other. Until...one day..."

"Who was the girl?" my best friend asked. "What was her name?"

"Who else? Kira. Kira Kai."

Why did I know that was coming?

"You never told me that," I said.

Mom finally brushed the strands of her hair back and kissed the side of my head. "I thought that it was unnecessary and that I would not have to. But seeing her again..." She clenched her teeth. "...makes me want to punch her face."

"Did she do something to you?"

She nodded. "Lots of things, and it was only because I did something to her. Something harmless."

Milo took off his shoes, revealing his white socks, and put his feet up on the couch. "Let me guess. You stole something of hers."

"Yes, but—"

"Are you ashamed of that?"

"Very."

"Did you eventually return it to her?"

"No. I could not. I ate it."

His eyes bulged. "What could you possibly have stolen from her that would give you the 'brilliant' idea to eat it? Why, I am surprised - and glad - that you are not sick!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you think that I stole something like a watch or ring or money? 'Cause I actually stole her sandwich."

Puzzled, he brought his face up to hers. "A sandwich? You stole a sandwich?"

"Yes. It was a tasty sandwich. Turkey and cheese with lettuce."

"So...out of all the things that you could have stolen...you decided to go with a sandwich."

"Let me explain that part, boys." She leaned back on the couch. "You know that we do not have much, Jackson. We are blessed to have a beautiful home and friends who surround us. Kira, however, comes from a rich family and does not value tons of things that are so important. So one day, we were having lunch. I forgot to bring my lunch, and Kira had this gigantic meal. A full turkey, mashed potatos, and much more. And of course, a sandwich. I was extremely hungry and asked her if I could have some of her sandwich. She declined, saying that she wanted to eat it, and left me to starve. So while she was not looking, I took her sandwich and ate it."

I opened my mouth to speak, when we all heard something.

"Dummy!"

We looked around the room, and I spotted a puppet. A dummy. Waddling towards us.

It was alive. The dummy was alive.