Under the Viaduct by H. Anderson (first e reader txt) 📗

tear struggled crookedly down her cheek, following the lines of wrinkles.

Kaylee nodded and called Beth’s number. As it rang, she held the phone to Mama’s ear.

“Oh Beth,” Mama croaked out, “it’s been so long.” A weak cough followed her inhalation of breath.

The only other words Mama spoke during the call were, “I’m sorry. I was so broken…am so broken.”

An hour passed before Kaylee’s phone buzzed with Allie’s text: On our way. Mama C hadn’t even opened her eyes again during that time. All Kaylee and Blayne could do was look at each other hopelessly.

Allie knocked before entering, then went straight to where Kaylee sat next to the bed and put her hands on her friend’s shoulders. DeMarcus, Hannah, and Clint followed her in, more subdued than Kaylee had ever seen them. Dirty tear streaks painted Hannah’s face like rain running down a grimy window. Kaylee moved out of the way and the three of them stood together across from Blayne, looking down at Mama C.

Blayne touched her face and said, “Mama, they’re here.”

She opened her eyes and looked first at him, then at the three devastated teens. Her cracked lips attempted a smile.

Hannah sobbed, “Mama, we didn’t know where you went. We went to try to find Blayne, and you were gone when we got back.”

Mama C moved her hand toward the girl, too weak to lift it.

“Hold her hand, Hannah,” Blayne said in a library tone. Or a funeral tone.

She did, still sobbing.

“It’s okay child. My turn to talk.” She closed her eyes and struggled against her diseased lungs to draw in enough breath to continue. “You all,” she looked at each of them in turn, “need to go home. Home to your real mamas.”

DeMarcus shook his head and wiped his face with the back of his hands.

Mama pinned him with a look. “You have family. Go to them.”

She closed her eyes again. This time it took her much longer to get enough breath. “Kaylee, tell them.”

Kaylee glanced at Blayne, and he nodded. She took a breath before speaking. “Blayne and I will help you contact your families.”

DeMarcus shook his head again and cleared his throat.

Kaylee continued before he could speak. “DeMarcus, you don’t have to go back to your dad. Who else could you go to, to get you off the streets?”

He looked down, his face twisted with anguish. “My nana. She’ll take me in.”

“Why didn’t you just go to her to begin with?” Blayne asked.

The young boy shrugged. “I didn’t want her to have to deal with my dad. She doesn’t need that.”

“That’s her choice to make, Dee,” Blayne said.

They talked quietly about who each of them could call and left Kaylee with a small list of numbers to find. Allie hugged her before leaving to take the kids to the shelter, where Blayne and Kaylee promised to find them after Mama passed.

The last thing Mama C said to them was, “Take care of each other. Don’t let Blayne get in trouble, college girl. Love wins. Love always wins.” She closed her eyes then, only to open them one last time around two in the morning as she drew her last breath. She stared at the foot of her bed, a look of joyous recognition on her face. She reached a hand up, then dropped it, closing her eyes with a smile.

The sun shone from a clear sky. Spring was close; Kaylee could smell it in the air. Blayne held tight to her hand, chewing at the inside of his cheeks.

In an attempt to calm his anxiety, she stopped walking and pulled him around to face her. She cupped his face and smiled when his ocean-blue eyes locked on hers. Then she kissed him as if no one else existed on the busy sidewalk. The short kiss lit a fire in her belly, and when she pulled away, Blayne’s eyes remained closed. He pulled her close and sighed.

When he released her and grabbed her hand again, she said, “Ready?”

He nodded.

They entered the restaurant and looked around. A young girl, around ten-years-old, bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. As soon as she spotted Blayne, she squealed and rushed to him, skidding to a stop and throwing her arms around him. She choked out, “Blayne.” And then she cried as he held her close. Blayne had opened up to Kaylee just recently about what had caused him to leave home. He’d told her before that he’d almost killed his little sister, but no specifics. In a rough voice and with moist eyes he’d recounted the events: he’d had several sheets of stickers laced with hallucinogenic drugs sitting on his nightstand in anticipation of a rave he was planning to sneak out to that night. Seven-year-old Lizzy had found them and plastered about six of them on her bare arms before he caught her. She’d almost died on the way to the ER, then twice again before they could get her stabilized. He’d left that next morning, after news that she would be okay.

Kaylee stepped out of the way as his parents closed in, embracing both of their children for the first time in years.

“Kaylee, get over here,” his dad’s voice was gruff as he opened the embrace to invite her in.

“Uh, your table is ready,” the hostess said. Kaylee could tell she didn’t want to interrupt, but there were people waiting behind them.

The group followed her, winding through the restaurant. Blayne kept his arm around his sister’s shoulders. He ruffled her hair. “Lizzy, you’ve grown.”

“Yeah. That happens in three years.” She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face beamed like sunshine at noon on the Fourth of July.

They’d all spoken on the phone multiple times since Mama C’s death, but this was the first time Blayne’s family had been able to come to Denver. After they finished eating, they sat around the table, talking.

“How’s your job going?” Blayne’s mom asked him.

“Great. I love it. Kelly, she’s the supervisor, had