Cherry Bomb Read Free

I’d ever seen Harry and Herb be civil to each other.
    “I see the pain hasn’t kept you from eating.” Harry rubbed his chin. “You’re going to give Rudolph and the other eight reindeer hernias.”
    Herb smiled, but it held no humor. “The police report will say you lost your teeth resisting arrest. Bad for you, but good for your boyfriend.”
    “Guys—” I stepped between them.
    Harry stuck his head over my shoulder.
    “I’m a heterosexual. Ask your mom. But you…you’re a hippo-sexual. How does it even work? Does Mrs. Claus hang above you in some kind of harness?”
    Herb brought up his crutch like a sword. Harry snatched it in his prosthetic hand. There was a whirring, mechanical sound, and the aluminum frame bent in Harry’s metal fingers.
    Herb smiled for real this time. “It’s time for a physics lesson.”
    He shoved, knocking Harry onto his back. Several cops still in attendance came over, but Herb warned them away. He gripped the top of the crutch and leaned on it, forcing the end into Harry’s diaphragm.
    “This would be a good time to apologize.”
    “I’m sorry,” Harry croaked, struggling to breathe. “Maybe you’re not fat. Maybe you’re just pregnant with a wildebeest.”
    Bernice, Herb’s better half, gently took her husband’s arm and led him away, probably saving Harry’s life. Harry grinned up at me.
    “I’m glad his trainer stopped him before he ate us all.”
    I shook my head. “You’re an idiot.”
    “And you’re my sister. But, disgusting as it sounds, I still can’t help looking up your skirt.”
    I’d recently discovered that Harry might, might, be my half brother—a troubling fact that DNA testing would either confirm or deny in the next few days. If it turned out we were related, I’d have to double my weekly therapy sessions. Once I bothered to find a therapist.
    “Go away, Harry. I don’t want to deal with you right now.”
    “I’ll call you later. We can eat in the Winnebago. It’s got a kitchenette. You can cook stuff.”
    I started to walk away, back to the casket.
    “When you come over, bring food!” he called after me. “I haven’t bought any food yet! Pick up some steaks! Or a ham!”
    “Shut up!” someone yelled. “It’s a funeral! Show a little respect for the dead!”
    “Who the hell are you, Big Nose?”
    “I’m Latham’s cousin Ray!”
    “Well, I was with Latham the night he died, and his last words were: ‘My big-nosed cousin Ray is a dick!’”
    Swearing ensued, and probably a scuffle. I didn’t look back to find out.
    Mom stood at the edge of Latham’s grave, peering down. We’d spent six hours shopping for her dress, Mom dismissing one after another, convinced that Latham wouldn’t have liked them. They’d been close.
    I reached out, held her hand, feeling swollen knuckles beneath thin, cool skin. I tried to recall the exact moment when Mom had become an old lady, and wondered when I’d reach that point myself. I stared at my hand, looking for signs of arthritis, and instead focused on my engagement ring.
    The pain threatened to erupt. I shook with the effort to keep it buried.
    “You have to mourn sometime, Jacqueline.”
    Mom’s voice left no doubt she was following her own advice.
    “I need to find her, Mom.”
    My mom turned away from the grave, her red-rimmed eyes finding mine. The softness of her tone didn’t undermine its strength.
    “I could tell you that revenge won’t bring him back. Or I could tell you that letting go is the only way you’ll be able to get on with your life. Or I could even plead with you to not chase Alex, because I can’t bear to lose you. But instead of all that I’m just going to say that when you need me, I’ll be there.”
    I managed to choke out, “Thanks.”
    We were silent for a moment, focusing on Latham’s final resting place.
    Mom broke the silence.
    “Revenge won’t bring him back.”
    “I know.”
    “You need to grieve and accept. It’s the only way you’ll