All the Feels by Heather Nuhfer

Author:Heather Nuhfer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Imprint

CHAPTER SEVEN

A MOTHER OF A PROBLEM, THE SEQUEL

I looked around to make sure there weren’t any witnesses. I would tell Dad and Charlie about this … when the time was right. Given how no one was trusting me to make decisions lately, I wasn’t going to waste an opportunity by handing over my decision-making power this time.

“Hi,” I said quietly as I got in the passenger seat and put my seatbelt on.

“My place okay?” my mother asked.

“Sure.” Getting asked to my mother’s house the first time we were hanging out was funny. Not ha-ha funny, but amusing considering I had yet to be invited to Ms. Watson’s house. We drove a few minutes to the east side of town and parked in front of a brown brick duplex.

“I didn’t know you lived so close.”

“It’s a fairly new development. Come on in.”

She led me up the short set of stairs and unlocked the door. Once I stepped inside, I noticed a definite decorating style.

“You like figurines?” I asked.

A broad smile covered her face. “Yes, I’m a bit of an addict,” she confessed.

Addicted would be a descriptive, apt word for sure. All the shelves, every ledge, and even the top of the refrigerator were covered in small ceramic statues. Most of them were of cute children doing old-timey things like carrying buckets or talking on a rotary phone.

“How about a glass of milk?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” I answered.

She went into the kitchen, which was just on the other side of a breakfast counter. She poured a glass of milk anyway and brought it to me.

“Cheers,” she said, and sat down on the couch. I followed.

Then it was quiet. I certainly didn’t know what to say.

“I like that one,” I said, pointing to a figurine of an elf that was holding a microphone.

“Oh, that’s Elvis,” she said with a small laugh. “He and Ignacio are never apart.”

I looked next to Elvis and saw what must have been Ignacio: a statue of a turtle with a dripping bucket of paint resting on the back of its shell.

“Cute,” I said.

Then it went silent again. I took a few long sips of milk. It wasn’t very cold.

“So, the last time I saw you, things went badly,” she said hesitantly. “And I guess the time before that went really badly.”

That was true. If you wanted me to be all police-reporty about it, I would describe what would be considered an attempted kidnapping, followed by Agent/Ms. Watson stepping in and keeping the mother away. Then, unfortunately, the spited mother called the troubled daughter all sorts of not-friendly names and may have implied that she was a freak of nature.

“It wasn’t that bad,” I offered.

“Sometimes things get out of hand,” she said. “Just happens. I hope you know I only wanted what was best for you.”

I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

She let out a sigh. “You shouldn’t need to be sorry, Veronica. What has happened to you—you can’t control that. Or couldn’t? But now?”

“Uh, yeah! I’m cured. Charlie’s moms are scientists and they found a way!”

“You’re cured now?”

“Yep!”

She looked at me, unsure.

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