Page 33 of Loathe at First Sight

“I don’t understand why you’re so mad,” I tell her. “I was just living my life. Isn’t that what we are supposed to do when we grow up?”

“Sure, Liz. Live your life. But maybe you should remember that there’s a whole slew of people that you left behind. Maybe going there and having your life completely fall apart is some kind of karma for all that you’ve done. Maybe you deserved it.”

In typical Lawson fashion, her words cut me down to the bone. We always have a way of hitting you where it hurts the most.

I'm going to say something, but my dad has other plans. “Enough!” He shouts from the other end of the table.

It’s not often that my father raises his voice, so when he does, people take notice.

Still in a loud volume, he says, “I know that there’s some bad blood here, but I’m not going to let it taint our whole damn family. Your mother didn’t birth five of you with no drugs for you all to be hateful to each other. Yes, Lizzie left. Things happened. It’s over. She’s back now, and we are going to make the best of it. And for the record, she didn’t deserve the awful things that happened to her, so I don’t ever want to hear that come out of anyone’s mouth ever again. Are we clear?”

Everyone just gives small nods, and Michelle looks annoyed as fuck that Dad took my side over hers.

The room goes silent, and all anyone hears is the sound of forks hitting our plates.

Next thing we know, everyone is jumping out of their seats because Ronnie comes busting through the door.

Holding a giant bottle of tequila, she screams, “Who’s ready to have some fun?!”

She looks around, trying to read the room. “Alright, what did I miss?”

“You’re kidding me?” Ronnie asks with her jaw hanging open. “Dad got mad and yelled at Michelle, and I missed it?”

I nod.

“Fuck. I should have been here five minutes earlier.”

“Is she always so cranky these days?” I ask.

“I don’t think so, but I’m not around all the time.” She looks at our brother. “What do you think?”

“I mean, she’s always great to me. But who can blame her? I’m delightful,” he jokes.

Ronnie, Dylan, and I all decided to hang out on the back deck to enjoy some of the tequila that Ronnie brought.

Every time I take a sip, I make the most God-awful face. Meanwhile, Ronnie doesn’t make a face at all. She looks no different than if she was just sipping on water.

“How do you do that?” I ask her.

“Practice,” she says with a wink. “Some of the drinks I’ve had South of the border have been strong enough to knock me on my ass. After that, tequila doesn’t seem all that bad.”

We all take another sip before she asks, “So, how’s it being back so far? Anything exciting happen?”

“Well, I’ve run into the grumpy owner of the auto shop more times than I thought were possible in my short amount of time back.”

She looks at me. “And we are still thinking this is a bad thing, right?”

“Yes, it’s a bad thing! He’s an asshole! By the way, why didn’t you tell me Dylan was working for him?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “I guess I didn’t even think about it. He’s been working for him for a while now. I thought you knew.”

Yeah, yeah.

“I swear everywhere I go, there he is. I can’t get away from him. I even saw him this morning when I went out running. Oh, and yesterday, I went to the shop to grab my stuff and ran into him. I spilled my bags all over the place, and not only did the man see my thong but he saw my vibrator. Veronica, he saw my vibrator!” I say each of the last words slower for emphasis.

She shrugs her shoulders. “Eh, who cares?”

“I care! There are some things that should just be kept private. You wouldn’t care if a man saw your vibrator?”

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