Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman by JB Lynn Read Free Book Online

what?”
    “A horseshoe. It’s supposed to ward off bad luck.”
    Kinda late for that, I thought. “You know I don’t believe in that kind of stuff, right?”
    Her smile turned upside down into a pathetic, pouting, frown. Her lower lip trembled ominously.
    “But hey, it can’t hurt!” I wanted to avoid one of Aunt Leslie’s emotional outbreaks like a lingerie model wants to avoid cellulite. “I’ll take all the help I can get. Thanks, Aunt Leslie!”
    She smiled and I breathed a sigh of relief (albeit a shallow one, since I was still trying to avoid the noxious fumes emanating from her person). A mini-meltdown had been avoided.
    “So was that all you wanted? To hang the horseshoe?”
    “That, and to check on you. You’ve been so strong through all of this. I just wanted to see how you’re holding up.”
    I briefly considered revealing how I’d snapped and attacked a man with a chair.
    “And . . . ,” she said, a little too brightly. “I wanted to see if you’d like to visit your mother.”
    “No.” I didn’t have to think about it. The answer was automatic.
    “But . . .” Her voice cracked, a sure signal the tears would start any moment. “But I know she’d like to see you.”
    “And you know I wouldn’t like to see her.”
    “Susan said you’d refuse, but I thought if I could just talk to you . . .” The waterworks started on cue, just like those sprinklers that go off in the produce section of the supermarket just when you’re reaching for a head of lettuce.
    I held my breath, waiting to exhale a sigh of exasperation. But there was no need to upset her more. She was just trying to be a good aunt and sister. I couldn’t fault her for that.
    Closing the distance between us, I wrapped my arms around her waist. “I appreciate you coming to check on me, Aunt Leslie. And I appreciate the horseshoe. I even appreciate the invite to visit Mom, but I’m sorry, with everything else that’s happened, I can’t. I just can’t take any more. Can you understand that? Can you forgive me?”
    Hugging me back, she pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “There’s nothing to forgive, Maggie. When you’re ready, I’ll be here to go with you. Until then you take care of yourself.”
    She walked away, taking her cloud of stinky perfume with her. I watched her go, feeling guilty for upsetting her. I knew she meant well. I knew she loved me. I knew she didn’t mean to meddle.
    “Oh,” she yelled as she reached her car. “I forgot to tell you that Susan says that when you decide that Katie is too much responsibility for you, just let her know.”
    My good will toward her evaporated instantly. Meddling fools!
    I was muttering as I unlocked the door and walked inside my apartment. “She makes it sound like this was all my idea. I mean it’s not like I ever had any desire to have a kid. I’m a realist. I know I’d suck at it.”
    “Suck at what?” God asked in that self-important tone of his.
    I was so upset about Aunt Leslie’s visit that I’d totally forgotten I’d left him and his terrarium in the middle of my kitchen table.
    His voice was so unexpected that I jumped back, knocking a framed family portrait photograph off the wall. It crashed to the floor, the glass shattering.
    “Dammit! Look what you made me do.”
    “What do you suck at?”
    “Raising a kid. I know I’d end up screwing up a kid just the way my . . . just the way I was screwed up. Why would I want to do that? Why would I want another living soul to inherit that kind of legacy? The world really doesn’t need one more fuck-up.”
    Picking up the frame, taking care not to look at the photograph, I leaned it up against the wall.
    “That’s why I balked when Theresa asked me to be godmother to her unborn child. Katie hadn’t been born yet, and Theresa was already asking me to make a commitment to be responsible for the kid if something should happen to her and Dirk. I turned Theresa down the first two times she asked