A Sad Soul Can Kill You Read Online Free PDF

eighth birthday, Franny received a legal document from Charlotte requesting to become Homer’s legal guardian.
    â€œYou don’t spend no time with the boy,” Charlotte had said, “so you may as well sign them. If you don’t, I’ll just take you to court.”
    It didn’t take Franny long to accept her own justification that she was not giving her son away but was leaving him in a stable environment with his grandmother, a blood relative.
    After making Charlotte Homer’s legal guardian, Franny began to visit him.
    Even though Homer knew Franny was his biological mother, he would always address her by her first name and refer to Charlotte as “Mom.”
    It seemed to Franny that after each instance of Homer calling his grandmother “Mom,” he’d make a deliberate point of looking at Franny. The look of contempt in his eyes made her cringe, and then he’d limp past her to the opposite side of the room and just stare at her.
    The visits had become increasingly uncomfortable for Franny, which caused her to keep them short and infrequent. As Homer got older, she would come to visit, and he would be nowhere to be found.
    â€œWhere’s Homer?” Franny would ask Charlotte.
    â€œI don’t know where that boy went,” Charlotte would say. “I told him you were coming, and the next thing I knew he was gone.”
    Eventually, it became easier for Franny to pretend she did not have a son, and that’s exactly what she did until Homer came looking for her after he’d graduated from college. By that time Franny had moved back to Chicago, and Charlotte had let Homer know. When he’d asked for his mother’s address, Charlotte had given it to him. But when he showed up on Franny’s doorstep, she’d quickly realized it was not because he wanted a happy reunion. Homer had made it clear to her that he had not forgiven her for abandoning him. And their relationship had remained distant and strained ever since.
    The phone rang three times before Homer answered.
    â€œHello?”
    The deep sound of his voice intimidated Franny. Her heartbeat quickened. “Hello, Homer,” she said, trying to control the tremor in her voice.
    He paused before he spoke. “Yes?”
    â€œI’ve been in the hospital,” she told the dull voice on the other end of the line. “But I might be released in a few days.”
    Homer made a sound that was similar to that of pressurized air being released. Then he spoke. “Where will you go?”
    Franny was quiet.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œI’m here,” she answered. “I was wondering if you could pick me up when they release me.”
    â€œAnd take you where?”
    Franny could hear the agitation in his voice. She took a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could stay with you for a couple of months. I’ve already applied for senior housing so it shouldn’t be longer than that.”
    â€œI don’t know,” he said. “My place is not that big. I mean it’s me and Sandra, and you . . . Where have you been sleeping? Why can’t you go home?”
    She looked around the barren hospital room. The pale gray walls and neutral décor were incomparable to the material comforts she’d had in her three-bedroom, two-bath Cape Cod home; a home that she’d lived in for the past twelve years. But ever since she retired, it had been a struggle to maintain her same standard of living.
    The truth was that she had financially miscalculated everything. And the Social Security check she received along with her pension just wasn’t enough to pay the mortgage, utilities, and other miscellaneous bills.
    If there had been anyone else she could have called on, she would have. Anyone . . . other than her son who she knew still held a grudge against her. But there was no one. Franny had never married, and while she’d made acquaintances through the years, she had