Flawless 1

1: Mom’s New Husband

REBECCA’S POV

I must have lost track of how many times I pulled at the edge of the curtain and slid it from the window so I could peer onto the street. It was getting dark out with the moon illuminating a pale glow over the deserted sidewalk.

There was nothing to see, just shadows, cracked pavement and shuttered houses. Everyone was indoors, their doors bolted and their curtains drawn tight, like they were hiding from something.

My heart sped up inside my chest when I heard a car coming around the bend. I sighed deeply, fogging up the window, I rubbed the condensation away with my sleeve so I could see better. I watched the car in question zoom across my eyesight and disappear up the road like it knew it didn’t belong to this neighborhood.

I drew the curtains closed again, cutting off the view of the streets. The only source of light now was the oil lamp Grandma had in case of a storm or a blackout. But here we were in the middle of July, with no storm or blackout, just my mother forgetting to pay the electrical bills. Again.

Mom had promised she’d be back today. It had been over a month since she left. She told us she was accompanying Mr. Carter, her married boss, and his family on a cruise and since she was their maid they would need her services on the trip.

Grandma Wilma and I believed her at first, that was until I saw Mrs. Carter at the grocery store the very next day after Mom had left for the cruise.

The stocky middle-aged woman had a bright smile when she saw me. She had her two sons with her. One was around my age while the other was in his late twenties, married, and expecting his second kid.

“Hello Becca,” she said cheerfully. “Remember my sons, Eric and Todd?”

Todd was the older one. He gave me a polite wave and a slight nod before heading outside to take a call. Eric, on the other hand, was too busy checking out the male cashier to notice me. I couldn’t blame him. The cashier was young Johnny Depp hot.

“Hello, Mrs. Carter. It’s good to see you again,” I said with a forced smile.

“How is your mother doing? It’s a shame she had to take time off to help her mother through her chemo. Tell her I’m keeping her in my prayers. In fact, I’m praying for all of you this Sunday when I go to church,” she added before sashaying off with her cart.

It shouldn’t have taken this moment to know Mom was seeing Mr. Carter all along. It was obvious. Her expensive clothes and jewelry should have been a telltale, plus someone paid off Grandma’s medical bills a couple of days ago. Mom must have been putting it on him really good.

“Becca, dear,” Grandma croaked from her bedroom.

I hurried inside. She was in her recliner. “What is it, Nana?”

“Get me a glass of water, please.” She gave me a weak smile. Her skin was paper-thin now, stretched over her fragile bones. Her eyes, though tired, still sparkled with that same warmth.

Grandma didn’t have much time left. The chemo had stopped working weeks ago, and she told the doctors she wanted to go in peace, at home, no more hospitals, no more sterile rooms, no more tubes. Just her old recliner, the oil lamp, and me.

My hands were sweaty as I turned on the tap. I whispered a little thank you when the faucet coughed and finally poured clean water into the glass.

I carried it carefully and helped her drink. She sipped slowly, coughing between gulps, but she finished it all.

Then came the screech of tires outside, cutting through the still night like a scream.

“Mom,” I whispered.

I darted to the window again, plopping my knees on the threadbare lazy boy. I pulled the curtain just enough for one eye to peek out.

A sleek black car was parked in our driveway. It was way too new and too shiny to belong in our broken-down neighborhood. The door opened, and a sultry giggle echoed into the air, followed by loud, wet kisses.

“Devon, stop it!” Mom giggled, trying to push the tall man’s lips off her face.

What the hell was going on?

Mom was in a tight dress with matching heels, giggling like a schoolgirl as some giant of a man pawed at her in the moonlight. He looked like a model from a cologne ad, but older, at least fifty. His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back, and his jaw was very prominent. Even from this distance, I could tell he was built. He had broad shoulders and a face that looked like it hadn’t smiled in years.

But that didn’t stop him from sucking on my mother’s neck like he wanted to eat her alive.

Who the hell was this Devon? And why was he grabbing her like a man in heat?

I stepped back from the window, my mouth hanging open. The lamp’s dim glow flickered across the room, throwing shadows against the wall like ghosts.

My stomach twisted.

Mom walked in a few moments later, reeking of perfume and expensive wine.

“Becca, baby,” she said, way too casually, as she kicked off her heels. “I have news.”

I didn’t say anything. I just watched through narrowed eyes as Devon stepped in behind her. His eyes swept over the room and I could tell he was judging us and the way we were living.

He didn’t say hello. He had his nose turned up in what I assume was disgust.

“Where’s Mother?” Mom asked.

“In her chair,” I replied.

She walked to Grandma’s bedroom and crouched next to her. Mom then kissed her cheek. Devon stayed by the door like a statue with his arms crossed.

“Becca, I’m moving you out of here,” she said suddenly. “Mother’s… not going to be with us much longer.”

Her voice cracked slightly. I couldn’t tell if it was real or just for show.

I turned to her sharply. “What do you mean, moving?”

Devon finally spoke, his voice deep and cold. “You’ll be coming to live with me. At my estate.”

Mom smiled up at me. “It’s better this way, Becca. You’ll have your own room, your own bathroom… everything we couldn’t afford here.”

My throat closed up. My chest burned.

Grandma’s breathing rattled in the background, the only sound that grounded me.

I wanted to scream. To cry. To shake Mom by the shoulders and ask her how she could replace one life so easily with another.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I stared at Devon. His gray eyes met mine. They were cold and unreadable. Something about them chilled me to my core.

“But I don’t know you,” I snapped.

“You will in due time.” Devon seemed irritated.

“Becca, don’t be rude. Devon is part of our family now, and we’re apart of his,” Mom gave me a tight smile.

“What do you mean?” I gulped.

“I mean, Devon is my new husband,” she squealed, lifting her finger to show off her huge diamond ring.