Some simple daytime burglary. How hard can it be?
Chapter Nineteen
Tiffany
One Dunne leaves angry, the other returns, also angry.
Blaze is gone no more than five minutes before Eleanor’s car pulls into the driveway, and I barely have time to give myself a quick fix-up in the bathroom mirror so I look less like I just fucked her son before she enters the front door, her rickety, warbling voice ringing with anger.
“What in the name of God are you two up to?” She shouts and then slams the front door behind her. The old house shivers through its bones with the rumble of the impact.
My heart still pounding and ready for a fight after my argument with Blaze, I leave the bathroom and stand waiting for Eleanor at the top of the staircase, twitchy and anxious. She peers up at me, eyes narrow slits of fury.
“What are you talking about, Mrs. Dunne?” I say.
“You never struck me as dumb, Tiffany. I remember reading about you in the school newsletter; you were always earning recognition for your grades, not to mention your frivolous accomplishments on the track team. I think you fully understand what I’m talking about. Unless my earlier impressions of you being a smart person were so far off the mark?”
I glare at the hateful old woman. “I’m not an idiot, Eleanor.”
“Are you sure about that? You certainly haven’t done much to keep my son in check. I’ve heard more than a few things today about Declan’s behavior that have me feeling considerable distress. And I’ve heard things about your behavior, as well. Beyond what that cocksure lawyer wanted to rant about. Do you know what I’m talking about, Tiffany?”
Dread slowly wraps its long, icy fingers around my heart, but the chill doesn’t seep into my veins — I’m still angry, still incensed, and now I have to defend myself and the man whose actions I condemned just minutes ago.
“What are you getting at?”
“Tell me: how did you reconnect with my son?”
I shrug, fight my hardest to keep my eyes on hers, though every urge in my body is to look away from her malevolent stare. “He came into the bank.”
“And why did he come into the bank?”
“He wanted a loan. Because he knew you were in debt and he wanted to help you. Because that’s the kind of man he is.”
I might hate Blaze’s methods, might wish that I could recalibrate his moral compass to point in an honest direction, but I have never doubted his intentions: to help the people he loves.
“And why didn’t he get a loan?”
“Because I checked his credit score,” I say. And then I tell Eleanor her son’s credit number.
Her eyes go wide. Malice is replaced by disbelief. “Is that really his score? I thought the minimum was much higher than that.”
“It was a shock, I’ll admit, and I don’t know how it got that low. But that’s why I turned him down,” I say. “Now, are you through throwing a fit over how your son is helping you?”
She shakes her head. And then she smiles.
“You know, when I was at Margaret’s place, she had the radio on to the news. Do you want to venture a guess about what I heard? Do you want to tell me what my son did after you turned him down for that loan?”
I know what she’s going to say, but I don’t want to say it out loud.
She takes a step up the stairs toward me, eyes on fire with indignation and anger.
“Because I sure heard a story. A story similar to what that hubristic, self-indulgent cock of a lawyer told us in his office: my son tried to rob that bank. Bank robbery. That’s how he tried to help me. It’s just felony after felony with him. But you know what? I’m sick of it. Sick of overlooking his iniquitous behavior.”
I take a step toward her. The anger surging through my blood has burned away every iota of dread’s frosty touch. I am ready to fight.
“You thankless bitch. Do you know the lengths he is going to to protect your home? You want to talk about criminal behavior? Do you even understand that the people who hold that loan over your head are likely criminals themselves? Soon, those men that you so casually dismissed earlier will come back. And they will not take ‘no’ for an answer. They will hurt you and they will take your home from you and, if you keep acting like such a bitch, there will be no one here to help you.”
She takes another step. She isn’t willing to relent; the hostile fire still burns in her eyes, and her voice is unwavering.
“Shouldn’t that be my choice? I didn’t ask Declan for his help. Wouldn’t want his help even if I had nowhere else to turn. Because all he brings with him is disappointment and heartbreak. I gave up so much raising him. Sacrificed so much of my personal life being a single mother, sacrificed so many career opportunities to stay in this small town teaching at some lowly community college when I wanted to pursue something higher. But, after his father passed and Declan started acting out, I knew that moving wouldn’t be a good idea. Declan needed stability. What a foolish notion that was, considering how he’s turned out.”
I can’t stand it any longer; can’t stand to listen to her vent venom at her son. He and I might very well be through, but I still have my limits. Hobbling,
