Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 105667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
God had mailed a letter to his mom when they were settled into their new home. He had to move them to Atlanta, Georgia where he could watch them better. He gave them the fake name Mr. Eudall and left this number for them to text if there was a problem. All they knew was things got fixed when they requested it—always when they weren’t there. The bills got paid on time, and groceries were delivered every month. His mom had a little volunteer job at the retirement home since she was disabled. His father had seen to it that she’d never again be able to walk or stand for long periods of time. God shuddered at the memory of that accident… that’s when he’d made a deal with the devil that cost him his home.
God desperately wished he could hear his mother’s voice again, taste her cooking, feel her warmth from an embrace, or throw the pigskin with his kid brother. He was in high school now. He probably had questions about girls and shit that God would never be able to answer. He wouldn’t be able to have a beer with him when he turned twenty-one.
Although they probably wouldn’t recognize his voice if he answered the phone as Mr. Eudall, he didn’t want to risk it. He explained in the letter that he—Mr. Eudall—lived in another state, but would always be available. God sighed inwardly, his chest constricting painfully with each thought. He wanted to tell his mom he was the one doing all those things. Heaven knew he missed them like crazy, but many years ago he’d had to protect them at all costs… and unfortunately it had cost him their love. There was no way they could ever know it was him… that he was Mr. Eudall, the made-up friend of their father.
When he got out of the military, he’d made the mistake of turning up at the tiny apartment in Clayhatchee where he’d once lived with his mom and brother, hoping that bygones were bygones. To say it didn’t go well would be the understatement of the century. His mom had cursed and yelled for him to never come there again… that he was dead to her. His brother, only eleven at the time, threw things at him. He ran from there as fast as he could and never went back. That was six years ago. Now he could only love them from afar, and it made him sick to know that his love would never be returned.
God shook his head and pushed down those thoughts. Mr. Eudall had a job to do. After watching the place for twenty minutes, he was sure that his brother Genesis had stayed for football practice and his mom was doing her volunteer shift. God left his truck parked on the dark corner. He pulled his toolbox from the back and trotted the couple blocks to the house.
He went around back and got the key from under the third stone along the path to the door and let himself in. Stepping into the dark kitchen, his throat immediately formed a large lump in it that had him bracing a hand on the counter trying to catch his breath. It was the smell of what had been recently baked and still lingered deliciously in the air of the tidy room. He’d never be able to forget that smell for as long as he lived. His mother’s made-from-scratch cinnamon-raisin bread that she used to make for him when he felt bad. God wondered if she did that for his brother, Genesis.
He turned his flashlight toward the stove and saw the small loaf wrapped in plastic wrap, a few pieces already eaten. He was sure Genesis could probably eat the whole loaf, since he was obviously taking after God in height and weight. He walked to the stove and picked the plate up and put it under his nose.
Oh man, what I’d do for one slice.
God carefully set the plate back down. He wouldn’t dare do that. No handyman would come in and make himself at home with a plate of fresh-baked bread and a large glass of sweet tea.
He turned on the small light above the sink and placed his toolbox by his feet. He had a job to do and then he’d hightail it out of there before either of them got home. He’d gotten pretty good at knowing their schedules. He figured the sink repair would only take an hour, that was plenty of time to get packed up and out of there before they came home… which was always together. Genesis would pick his mom up on his way home from practice and they’d come in about seven thirty. He’d watched them follow that pattern every Thursday for many months.