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Billionaire's Single Mom (A Billionaire Romance) by Claire Adams (80)


Leah

 

", Leah!" my mother yelled as she leaned against the doorframe, lighting a cigarette. "Where the hell did you put my bottle? I just had it five minutes ago!"

"I didn't touch it, Mama," I said as I sat on the couch folding clean laundry, trying to avoid my mother's wrath.

"The hell you didn't," she muttered as she walked back into the kitchen, slamming the cabinet doors as she searched for the bottle of vodka. It was no use telling her that she'd finished it several hours ago. She'd simply accuse me of lying to her. She yelled at me from the kitchen as she searched, "You're a lousy daughter, you know that? Molly never would have hidden my bottle from me! She was a blessing, that one. Not like you . . . ungrateful little sneak."

I set my jaw and kept folding. The words weren't new, but the pain they caused each time she uttered them was always surprising. I thought that by now I'd have gotten used to the insults she hurled when she was drunk, but to my astonishment the wounds always felt fresh.

"Gram, you drank the last of the bottle before we had lunch," Riley called from the back room. "Don't you remember?"

"I most certainly do not!" my mother shouted back. "Why are you lying to your Gram, child?"

"I'm not lying," Riley said emerging from the back room dressed in an oversized hoodie and a pair of jeans two sizes too big. Her dark hair was cut like a boy's and stuck up every which way, no matter how much product she used. My twelve-year-old niece was a dedicated tomboy who seemed to be the only one in the family safe from my mother's sharp tongue. 

"Then walk with me to the store so I can get another," my mother demanded as she searched through her purse, looking for money. It wasn’t long before she shouted, “Leah, did you steal all of my money?"

"No, Mama, I didn't," I said, shooting Riley a look from across the room and nodding toward my purse. We'd been through this so many times, and she knew exactly what to do. I reminded my mother, "You used it to buy your last bottle. Do you need a loan?"

"No, I don't need a damn loan!" she shouted as she turned her purse upside down and dumped the contents onto the dining room table. "I need my goddamned money is what I need!"

"C'mon, Gram!" Riley called as she held up the twenty-dollar bill she'd gotten from my purse. "I've got your money right here. Let's walk down to the bodega and get your bottle, okay?"

"How the hell did you get that money from my purse?" my mother demanded. "It wasn't here when I dumped it out!"

"Yes it was, Gram," Riley lied. "I just picked it up and found it. Let's go, Gram! Get your sweater!"

I nodded at Riley who gave me a lopsided smile as she took her grandmother's arm and led her carefully down the steps. I didn't like the fact that Riley was the one who had to walk Mama to the store, but with Molly gone and Patrick at the parish Riley was the only one Mama would allow to help her.

"Don't steal anything else while I'm gone, Leah!" my mother shouted as she headed down the street. "Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Mama," I sighed. "I hear you. I always hear you."

Later that evening, after Mama had drunk herself into a deep sleep, Riley came out and sat down next to me on the couch.

"Why does Gram drink so much?" she asked. She curled up in a corner of the couch, wrapped her arms around her knees, and picked at the hem of her hoodie.

"She's in pain," I said as I pulled the elastic out of my ponytail and ran my fingers though the long, dark curls.

"Why is she in pain, Leah?" Riley asked. "Is it because of me?"

"Oh goodness no, darling," I said shaking my head. "Gram is sad about a lot of things. I think she is most sad because she misses your mom."

"Is that why she's so mean to you?" the girl asked, quietly looking away.

"I don't know why Gram is mean to me," I said. "I think sometimes people are mean to the ones they love the most because they know that those people will never leave them."

"But that doesn't make any sense, Leah," Riley said. "If you love people, you should be nice to them. You shouldn't be mean to the ones who stay with you even when you're not nice. You should be mad at the ones who leave."

"Are you mad at your mom, Riley?" I asked. We hadn't talked much about Molly's disappearance, but I knew it weighed on all of us.

Molly had gotten pregnant with Riley when she was 17. She'd skipped her senior year of high school and moved in with Danny Donahue, the boy who'd gotten her pregnant. Things turned from bad to worse when Danny was arrested for dealing drugs out of their small apartment and was sentenced to ten years. Two years into his sentence, he was killed in a drug-deal-gone-bad inside the maximum-security prison, leaving Molly to raise their daughter alone.

With no skills and no high school diploma, Molly turned to the only thing she knew how to do. Soon, she was walking the streets at night while Mama or I watched Riley. She'd lied and told us she was working at the plant, but the first time she got arrested for solicitation, the truth came out. She tried to pull herself together for Riley's sake but, before long, she was down on the wrong side of town, shoving a needle in her arm.

When people have no hope, they often do things that rob them of the possibility of ever regaining it.

Then, one night, a few weeks before Riley's ninth birthday, Molly disappeared. She didn't call to tell us she was leaving. She just vanished into thin air. I filed a missing person's report at the local precinct, but the officers assigned to the case knew Molly from the streets. They told me that it was unlikely that she'd been abducted and that finding her was not a high priority. Another missing junkie prostitute didn't warrant an all-out effort. While I tried to investigate, I was working a full-time job and taking care of Riley. I didn't have the energy to launch a search.

"I'm not mad at my mom," Riley said as she pulled my arm up so she could snuggle in next to me. "I just miss her."

"I know, kiddo," I said leaning down to kiss the top of her head. She smelled like apple shampoo, and I smiled, "I miss your mom, too."

"Do you think she's ever coming back, Leah?" Riley asked as she picked a thread from one sleeve.

"I don't know, honey," I said. "I don't know where she went or if she knows how to get back."

"You're not leaving, are you?" she asked as she tipped her head and looked up at me through her bangs.

"No, I'm not leaving you, Riley," I said as I kissed her head again. "I'm staying right here. You don't need to worry about that."

"Okay, good," she nodded as she popped up off the couch and headed toward her bedroom. "If you're going to stay, then I'm going to go do my homework."

"I think that's an excellent choice," I nodded as I watched her long, lanky form move down the hallway. I murmured, "I'll be right here if you need me."

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