The next morning I woke up alone. I wasn't surprised. Mort must have gotten up and cooked breakfast or something. I pulled on my clothes and skipped out of the room. Last night couldn't have been better. I made love to the man of my dreams and killed my mother.
"What?" I asked myself out loud.
I didn't kill anyone. I didn't have it in me to do a thing like that. Yet, the memory was there. When I had gone to get my clothes I had killed my own mother. A sickened feeling filled my stomach.
My legs gave out and I collapsed in a pile at the top of the stairs. I heard giggling and looked up to see Clover looking down at me.
"What are you laughing at?" I asked.
"You," she said. "You are such a big baby. So what if you killed her? She needed to die and you know it. Now the four of us can be one big happy family."
I didn't say anything. I just watched her walk past me and down the stairs.
"What am I going to do?" I asked myself out loud again.
Mort. He couldn't know about what I did. If he knew he would turn me into the police for sure. Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he would understand. Of course there isn't any proof that I did anything. It was an accident. That's what everyone would think.
I climbed to my feet and walked down the stairs. There was no sign of Mort in the living room so I walked into the kitchen. Sure enough he was in there. He was sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee.
The man of my dreams didn't look like himself. He had somehow manged to get his hair to lie flat. I wasn't complaining. It was kind of cute to see him all neat like that. He waved at me when I walked into the room.
"Sleep well?" he asked.
"Like a baby," I said with a smile.
"I love you baby," Mort said reaching over the table to hold my hand.
"I love you too," I said.
The sound of laughing broke the little romantic scene. I looked up to see Clover and Shooter. Clover was riding piggy back style on Shooter's back. He smiled at us.
"I take it you two pups had fun last night," The southern said.
"As a matter of fact we did," I said before Mort could tell anyone off for not minding their business.
Clover climbed for off Shooter and walked across the room to the refrigerator. She opened it and got a soda out of the it. Shooter had taken out a cigarette and was starting to light it. I turned back to Mort. He was frowning slightly. It looked like was deep in thought.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked.
"Oh it's nothing," he said turning back to his coffee.
I was going to ask him what he was thinking about but was cut off by Clover yelling.
"I thought you said you were going to quit," Clover snapped.
Mort and I both turned to see what she was screaming about. She was standing next to Shooter and she was glaring at him hard. She was holding a soda in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
"I am fixin ta quit," Shooter said. "I didn't say I had quit."
Clover face twisted into a look of pure rage. She dropped the cigarette and swung at him with the soda can. It barely missed his head. He jumped back and his eyes widened in surprise.
"Stop Clover!" I yelled and jumped to my feet.
"The tricky son of bitch!" she yelled taking another swing at him. "He lied to me!"
I barely grabbed her in time. She almost took his ring finger off with the soda can. I had her around the waist barely holding her back.
"Don't let her go," Shooter said from his place in the corner.
Mort jumped up from the table when he saw I needed help. He tried to pry the can from her hands but he didn't have much luck.
"Drop the can," Mort said. "You don't really want to hurt him. You're just mad. Drop the can."
Clover gave a sigh and tossed the can to floor near Shooter's feet. I let her go and she glared at anyone in the room. She pointed a finger at Shooter.
"I hope there is room in the dog house for you because you aren't sleeping in bed with me tonight," Clover said and stomped out of the room.
"Damn," Mort said sitting back down at the table. "What the hell got into her?"
"I don't rightly know," Shooter said picking up the cigarette and tossing it in the trash. "I've never seen her like that."
"Sometimes women do that," I said sitting next to Mort. "Sometimes they just snap for no reason."
Suddenly Shooter's eyebrows lowered as if he was in deep thought.
"What is it?" I asked.
"I got a feeling I know what's wrong," he said.
"You do?" Mort asked. "What is it then?"
Shooter didn't say anything. He just smiled in an all knowing way and walked out of the kitchen.