Over the next couple of weeks, my dad’s practically a ghost, which is nothing new. What adds to the equation is that Mama has also been going out lately. The last two Friday and Saturday nights, I’m not sure when she came in. When Mama goes out, she normally doesn’t paint the town red. It makes me worry if she’s attempting to hide from her problems at home. My parents have been married for fifteen years—surely, they can salvage their relationship.
After our trip to the grocery store, the sun is starting to set. We pull up into the driveway to haul the groceries inside. Grabbing bags, I head toward the back door first, noticing it looks ajar. I take a step backward, almost bumping into Tanya.
“I think someone’s in there,” I hiss. “The door is open.”
Tanya’s honey-brown irises grow wide. We put our grocery bags down on the patio table as Mama comes around the corner.
“What’s going on?” Mama’s brow knits.
“Someone might have broken in. The door is open,” Tanya explains.
“Could dad be home?” I ask. I didn’t see his car when we arrived. Thinking so is a sense of false comfort.
“I doubt it,” Mama replies.
She places her bag down on the table with ours. Going toward the door, she eases it open. “Should we go inside by ourselves?” I wonder. The glare she gives me lets me know to shut up. My heart is jackhammering against my ribcage. Mama and Tanya head toward the family room. I enter the kitchen, noticing the refrigerator is ajar. The freezer side is bare. It’s a good thing we just came from the grocery store. “All the meat is gone.”
Mama rushes over, gasping. Nothing else seems out of order in the kitchen—other than the robbers getting their groceries here. The family room is another story. Pillows are tossed on the floor and the table decor is smashed. Stuffing from the ripped-open sofas and pillows are splayed over the floor like confetti. The icing on the cake is the 60-inch flat screen is nowhere to be found—along with the DVD player.
Tanya inhales loudly. “They took the TV!”
Mama places her hand against her temple. “This is unbelievable. Who did this?”
I swallow hard, having an idea. How upset will she be if I tell her my suspicions?
“My room,” Tanya drawls, rushing to her bedroom.
“Tanya, wait! What if someone is still here?” I call after her.
She doesn’t stop, continuing up the stairs. Mama heads in that direction also. I follow behind her—my chest constricting with each step. She doesn’t go to Tanya’s room, continuing to hers. I peek my head inside Tanya’s bedroom, which is ransacked. Her lips quiver as she looks around. Cautiously, I check the closet, not finding anyone. No one seems to be hiding in here, so I head to Mama’s bedroom.
When I enter, I can already tell her room is worse than Tanya’s. The first thing I notice is her TV is missing, too. There are clothes thrown around the room. All the dresser drawers are hanging open or lying sideways on the floor. Her mirrored dresser is a mess with perfume bottles knocked over and items scattered about. Mama is fumbling through her jewelry boxes.
“Those bastards took my good jewelry!” She rushes into the closet.
The bathroom door connected to their room is open. Something red on the mirror catches my attention. Stepping into the doorway, I feel my eyes grow large. The writing on the mirror is in red lipstick. I cover my hand over my mouth. This is turning worse by the second.
I hear Tanya whine, coming into the bedroom. “They took my flat screen and some of my jewelry is gone.”
It’s horrible these goons have stolen from us and destroyed our things. I’ll have to face my bedroom later. I don’t own much jewelry and not one diamond, but they could have torn my room to shreds. The message on the mirror is the most disturbing. It must be those men I’d seen.
Returning to the bedroom, I say, “They left a message.”
“What?” Wrinkles line Mama’s forehead.
She hurries into the bathroom with Tanya on her heels. Mama inhales loudly when she sees the message.
We know where you live now & next time, we won’t be so nice. We’ll visit when your family’s home. Pay us what’s owned. You have 48 hours.
“Is dad in some sort of trouble?” Tanya’s brow knits.
Mama’s lips tremble. “It looks that way. I’m calling him now!”
“Shouldn’t we call the police?” asks Tanya.
If those men are bold enough to come to our home to steal and trash it, then there’s no telling what else they’re capable of. Fear of how deep in trouble my dad has gotten, I blurt, “I think I know who did this.”
Mama’s head whips my direction. “Well, don’t just stand there. Tell me what you’re talking about.”
Her faces gets more and more contorted as I explain what happened the day Dad went to those townhomes and I’d walked in on him getting strangled. “I should’ve told you … but Dad asked me not to say anything. He promised everything would be okay.”
“Does this look okay to you?” Tanya raises her eyebrows.
“You should have told me,” Mama chastises me. “But your father shouldn’t have told you to keep it from me in the first place.” She storms out of the bathroom. Grabbing her cell, she speed-dials him. He doesn’t answer, and she leaves him a nasty voicemail. “We were just robbed! They trashed the house. Of course, you’re nowhere to be found. You’ve gone too far this time, Phillip. We’ve had to suffer for your shortcomings.”
Mama sends him a text message next, typing furiously. I’m shocked she left that message in front of us. She’s normally so hush-hush about their problems—trying to pretend like everything’s dandy. I’ve never seen her so mad. I’m upset with him also. He didn’t fix this, and I’m scared of the threatening message they left us.
“We’re not going to call the police,” Mama tells us.
“What! Why?” Tanya asks.
“The people who threatened your father must be behind this. Madison has seen them, and they know where we live. These people are dangerous to do what they did to prove a point. I don’t want to involve the police—it could make matters worse.”
“What will happen if dad can’t pay them back?” I can’t help asking.
Mama’s mouth forms into a tight line. “I ... don’t know, but I don’t want either of you to tell anyone about this.”
“What about our stuff?” Tanya pouts. “Do you guys have insurance to cover our losses?”
Mama doesn’t answer. Instead, she replies, “Your father will get this mess situated. It’s not for you girls to worry about. Let’s start picking up to salvage what we can and remember what I said—not a word about this to anyone.”