Free Heartless by Janet Taylor-Perry Page A

sat down but still talked loudly. "I'm sorry, but it
makes me angry to know my son has to steal to live, to eat.
Parker, I swear to God if I had known about you, this would
not be happening to you."
"Are you mad at me?" asked Parker, eyes round as saucers,
a slight tremor in his voice. "I can go back to the shelter.
Honestly, I'm okay there."
"No. No. I'm sorry. I'm not angry with you." He clenched
his fist and let it go. "I do want to know what has happened to
you. Did Mia ever take care of you?"
"When she wasn't coming off a high." Parker nodded.
"High?" Ray took several breaths. "She was using drugs?"
"Off and on. She was in and out of rehab. The first time the
judge took me away from her, I think I was three." Parker took
a bite the roll on his plate.
Ray and Larkin tried to eat and encouraged Parker to share
his story as he ate in a more reasonable manner. He ate every
bite on his plate before he talked. He seemed reluctant to
speak.
How much do I tell them? What if Ray turns out not to be
my father? Will they really let me stay here in this beautiful
place? He looked around the cozy room.
Larkin said, "Talk to us, Parker. You don't have to be
afraid."
How does she know I'm scared? "I'm not afraid," he said.
Ray placed his elbows on the table and tented his fingers,
putting his index fingers to his lips. "I'd be scared shitless."
"Really?" Parker asked.
"Really." Ray laced his fingers together and rested his chin
on them. "You know, I can find out facts from court records,
even a minor, but I want to hear about your life from you. We
will welcome you into our home, but I want to know a little bit
about you. So, it's up to you. Tell us your story, or I can just
snoop."
Trapped. Okay. You asked for it. A tiny lopsided grin
played around his mouth.
"Mom had this boyfriend for a while. He took pretty good
care of me. Then, he disappeared. Mom went to rehab, and I
went to a foster home. That was the second one. I've been in
seven, no, eight. The last one was only a few days before I took
off. Mom would get clean, and I'd go back to live with her.
Then, she'd get high, and I'd go to another home."
Parker held tightly to Larkin's hand as if holding on to her
would keep him safe. "Her boyfriend came back when I was
eleven. His name was Fritz. He used to say he was 'Fritz the
Cat.' When he came back, I didn't recognize him. He was
cleaned up and clean. He had cut his ponytail and wore decent
clothes. He told Mom if she'd get her act together, he'd take us
to New York with him. A few days later, he came to my bed."
"He what?" Ray interrupted, his voice an octave higher
than normal.
"No, no, not like that ." Parker waved his hand. "There was
just a curtain separating my cot from the sleeper sofa. The
apartment was basically one big room and a bathroom. Mom
and Fritz used the sleeper. He came over and sat down on the
cot. He mussed my hair the way he always did. He told me he
was leaving. He explained that if he stayed, Mom would only
pull him back into the heroin. He left me a phone number. I
still have it." He pulled a ragged wallet from his pocket and
took out a scrap of paper. "He told me to call if things got
unbearable and he would come and take me away."
"Why didn't you call?"
"He wasn't my father." His eyes darted to the ceiling. "I
always wanted to meet my father."
A half-truth. Why lie now when he's been so honest? Ray
closed his eyes to stop unwanted tears. "Go on," he whispered.
"Well, when Fritz left, I checked on Mom. She was high
again. That was the fifth time I went to a foster home.
"Not all the foster homes were horrible. Miss Maxi was
nice. She had four boys living with her. She took good care of
us."
"It’s good to hear some of them were decent," Larkin said.
Parker nodded. "The others were tough, especially the last
one, no next to last. The Byrds were awful—Guy and Mitzi. I
spent three months with them. I finally hit back and got sent to
juvey."
"They hit you?" asked Ray. "Define hit."
"Are you asking if it