‘Jerry Thornhill. You remember Jerry, he was in your class at high school. The two of you used to be so close. Then you just stopped hanging out with him – probably because you had your mind filled with ice hockey nonsense and—’

‘So, how is Jerry, Mom?’ he interjected, hoping to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.

‘He’s fine. In fact, he’s more than fine. Turns out that he’s now CEO of a major corporation and he’s doing really well. Really well. He’s married and he has two beautiful children. He showed me pictures of them. They’re absolutely lovely.’

‘Great, well, I’m very happy for Jerry. Thanks for the update,’ Ward murmured, preparing to hang up.

Irene was not about to go down without a fight, though.

‘So like I said, if you’d taken my advice and gotten a degree in business or something else worthwhile, you could be right where Jerry is now – with a beautiful wife, lovely children and a steady career.’

He’d had a shit day withdrawing from the pain meds and this was just about the last straw. ‘Hey, Mom, here’s a fun fact for you,’ Ward replied, ‘Jerry Thornhill – that guy that you admire so much – date-raped a girl our last year at high school, and Daddy’s money kept it quiet. So, while I was playing my silly little game, good ole Jerry was out there ruining some poor girl’s life.’

There was a long pause until finally in a quiet voice, his mother said, ‘I’ll give your best to Aunt Helen in return.’

An hour later, he was still fuming.

Nothing he did was ever good enough for her and the fact that he refused to follow the path she wanted for him kept the two of them at odds.

His father, whom Ward had never met, had walked out on Irene when she’d announced that she was pregnant, apparently. Forced to raise a child on her own – albeit with some financial assistance from her parents – his mother had made sure that her son never forgot that he was the reason she was alone in life.

Or that she reached for the bottle so much.

‘If I hadn’t gotten pregnant, my life would have been a whole lot different, but that’s simply the way things are,’ she’d told him a million times. ‘Still, no use crying over spilt milk.’

Chapter 14

HANNAH

P-2,

Well, even if you never learn how to cook anything else, as long as you keep making these, I’d say that you’ve secured a spot in my bunker in the event of a zombie apocalypse. Glad too that you agree with my advice about speaking your mind. The real challenge, of course, is learning how to communicate without losing your composure.