Return to Poughkeepsie by Debra Anastasia Read Free Book Online Page B

little over six years ago. They say the job makes you a bachelor, and he was certainly proving them right.
    “Whoever the fuck they are,” he mumbled as he walked the apartment to note what else she’d left him. She’d had the good sense to leave his expensive Sleep Number bed and his huge flat screen TV, but pretty much everything else one insane woman could carry by herself was gone. He’d have to get his stuff back from her, maybe threaten to file a theft report…though his work buddies would make his life hell the minute he put in the paperwork.
    He undressed and disarmed. He’d been looking forward to cuddling up with Trish, er, the psycho bitch tonight. It’d been a vicious one. Another domestic, which had to be his least favorite. The haunted eyes of the kids as they absorbed the conflict like a sponge always chilled him. He desperately wanted a shower, but she’d taken all the towels. He was due for a trip to Walmart in the morning.
    He lay down, then immediately sat up and adjusted his sleep number, which she’d set absurdly high, making his mattress like a slab of cement. He closed his eyes and made the best of his one limp pillow.
    He was a few hours into not sleeping when he indulged. He tried not to let his memories sneak up on him, tried not to wallow in them, but his fish was dead so he figured he deserved it. A little refueling was due anyway.
    Just closing his eyes brought back the day, even though it had been seven years. His uncles had always been everything he wanted to be. They were tall and seemed to know exactly what they were doing. As a kid, he’d felt like he was in the presence of kings. When they showed up his mother was always flustered, thrilled to see her brothers. She’d fussed over them, made the most of their time together, because then they’d disappear for weeks.
    Nikko and Wade had loved to roughhouse with him when he was little. It was almost like they were trying to mega-dose him with male attention because most of the time it was just him and his mom. “So he comes at you, right? This is what you do.” Wade would make Nikko hold still so he could show Ryan how to do the moves. And when it was time for Ryan to practice? They were both ready: willing and dramatic victims. He’d loved being with them. He could still hear their laughter if he tried. They’d thought he was hilarious. Every joke and story he told about middle school, Wade and Nikko seemed to love. They’d hung on his every word.
    It still hurt to replay these memories, especially because back in the day their presence had meant relief for his mother. When they weren’t around, his mom struggled to pay bills and concoct enough meals. When Nikko and Wade returned, their cars were always different—and full of clothes, electronics, and frivolous stuff like dancing stuffed animals. He never quite understood where they’d been, and no one ever answered his questions. “Workin’, kid,” they’d tell him. “We’ve been workin’.”
    His uncles had liked to drive him and his mom to the grocery store and treat her to a restriction-free shopping trip. She could get the expensive cuts of meat, the name brand paper towels, and there was usually a stop to get him a new pair of sneakers as part of the deal. As he got older, he would haunt his mom, always asking when they’d be back. And he cringed now as he recalled the times his asshole teenaged self had criticized her for not providing the way they did. But the older he got, the less Nikko and Wade came around. They made it to his high school graduation, and that was really the last good day with them Ryan could recall. They’d all gone out for a fancy dinner, and his mom had glowed with happiness.
    After that he’d gone off to SUNY New Paltz to study political science, and he was ashamed to admit he hadn’t thought much about his uncles at all. He barely kept up with his classes and checking in on his mother. The day she found out Nikko was dead, Ryan had