Vicious by Kevin O'Brien Read Free Book Online Page A

nice talk, Moira, real sensitive….”
    Susan ignored them and headed up another aisle with Mattie in tow. The shelves were full of slightly dusty canned goods, from pork n’ beans to corned beef hash to Chef Boyardee—all stuff that could be heated over a campfire. There was Cheez Whiz and Saltines and Progresso and Campbell’s Soup cans. The store had old hardwood floors and somewhat poor overhead lighting—all the better not to see the dust or the expiration dates on the merchandise. On one side of the store, there was a movie-theater-type popcorn maker, a microwave oven, two kinds of coffee brewing, a Coca-Cola fountain, and a heated display case with rotating spits that kept hot dogs and corn dogs warm.
    Pulling Mattie by the hand, Susan headed up to the counter. Beside the register and a lottery ticket display stood a plump, kind-faced woman with bright orange hair that had to be a wig. Susan guessed she was around seventy years old. “Excuse me,” Susan whispered to the woman. “Where’s the restroom, please?”
    “Oh, this looks like an emergency. Am I right?” The woman didn’t even wait for Susan to respond. She motioned for her to step behind the counter. “C’mon, let’s take the shortcut, honey. It’s right here out back.”
    “Thanks very much,” Susan said, following her. Between the counter and the back door, they passed by a little play area with a mat, some Fisher-Price toys, and a multicolored, plastic mini jungle gym for toddlers. Mattie stopped dead in his tracks to gaze at it. He was still clutching himself in front.
    “C’mon, sweetie,” Susan urged him.
    The woman waddled to the back door, opened it, and looked back at them. “Oh, that’s for my grandson when he visits,” she explained. She smiled at Mattie. “He’s just about your age. You can play here, too, honey—after your bathroom break.” She pushed open the screen door. “You can come back in this way, too, if you’d like. I’ll leave the door open for you.”
    “Thanks again, you’re a lifesaver,” Susan said, prodding Mattie out the doorway.
    They hurried up a short dirt path, past a Dumpster and some recycling bins, to a chalet-style, white stucco hut. Susan noticed a paved pathway that wound around from the front of the store, intersecting with this trail. There was a bicycle rack and a phone station at the junction point. The hut housed the men’s restroom on one side and the women’s on the other. Pulling Mattie by the hand, she headed toward the women’s side.
    “NOOOOOOOOOO!” he shrieked. He must have noticed the international women’s symbol by the door. He stopped and tried to sit down on the ground. “Don’t take me in there!”
    “We’re not going through this again,” Susan hissed, hoisting him up to his feet. “Now, c’mon, please—”
    “No! I don’t want to go in there!” he protested. He tried to wriggle free from her grasp. He started crying. “Please, Mom! Please! I want to go in the boys’ room!”
    “Oh, Lord,” she muttered. She took a deep breath. “Okay, fine, fine. The boys’ room it is. I haven’t got time for the pain.” She led Mattie to the other side of the little chalet hut. He went back to holding himself in front. Susan paused at the men’s room doorway and cracked it open a few inches. “Excuse me!” she called. “Is anyone in here?”
    “Yeah! I am!” someone answered.
    Susan could hear water running—and then, a hand-dryer roaring. She stepped back from the door and glanced down at Mattie, who was doing an I-have-to-pee dance. “Hold on, sweetie. I can’t take you in there just yet.”
    The door swung open, and a handsome young man almost bumped into her. He drew back for a moment. “Um, excuse me….”
    He was about eighteen. Susan guessed those two kids in the store were his friends. His short, dark brown hair was messy and wind-blown—and somehow looked perfect. It gave his boy-next-door good-looks a sexy edge. About six feet tall, he