Page 87 of The Winning Ticket

“Nothing, okay. Just let it go.”

“Nope, not happening. We can either have this out here, or you’re coming for dinner tonight, but either way, we’re having a discussion.”

“Look, just because you feel shit about not talking to Sam about his problems doesn’t mean you can hound me into talking to you.” I know the second I say it that I’ve gone too far.

We very rarely discuss Sam - my brother became a dark cloud over our relationship many years ago, and I can tell from the stunned look on Dad’s face that I’ve hit a nerve.

I open my mouth to apologise, but Dad raises a hand to silence me.

“I think you need to cool off. Go home, Jake. Dylan and I will finish up here. But we will be having a conversation tonight. I’ve let you stew in your bad mood for far too long, and I’ve had enough of you stomping around town like a bear with a sore head.”

I stare at him, stunned. Sure, I’ve been a moody asshole this week, but I don’t think it warrants being sent home.

“I mean it, Jake. Go home.” He turns and walks away, leaving me standing there with the screwdriver in my hand and feeling like the world’s biggest dick.

I decide against going home, knowing I’ll sit there feeling sorry for myself and instead take myself for a drive. Without even really knowing where I’m going, I end up back at the waterfall walk that I went on with Bri.

Of course, this is where I’d end up. It’s like she’s haunting every aspect of my life.

I grab a spare shirt from the ute and change from my work shirt, which has long sleeves that are already bugging me in the heat.

Setting off down the path, I put on my headphones and try not to get too lost in my thoughts while I navigate the bush track until I reach the falls and find a rock to sit on.

I know I need to sort my head out. The fact that I can’t call the one person I have grown so used to speaking to daily affects every aspect of my life, but I vowed I would give Bri her space. While I am determined to find our way back to each other eventually, I won’t crowd her while she works out why being with me makes her an anxious mess.

I’ve been trying to sort through all my issues since Sunday, realising that what I’d blurted out to Chris and Morgan about needing to get back to my life in Stanthorpe was true. I’d loved having the chance to show Bri around, and seeing it through her eyes over those days had done wonders for how I’d felt about the place. It reminded me how much I’d grown to love the small town, even though constantly having people in my business was frustrating.

I know I need to talk with my father, but I honestly don’t know how to do that. Although I moved into his place full-time when I was eighteen, I spent the majority of my formative years living with Mum most of the time, so we’ve never been particularly close, and we’ve never been great at communicating. But then, Sam lived with him all the time and couldn’t talk to him, so I know at least part of this issue lies with Dad.

I sit there staring at the waterfall for so long that I lose count of how many people walk past, eyeing me curiously. Even with music blasting in my ears, it’s just so peaceful here, and by the time I get up to leave, I know I’ve found my new favourite place. It’s not lost on me that it was Bri who introduced me to it and helped me find the beauty in a place I’d come to resent. I don’t know how I will be able to keep my distance from her at the wedding, but I’ll do my best.

39

SHOULD NEVER HAVE MADE MY DREAM A BURDEN FOR YOU

JAKE

When I finally make it home, the sun is dipping below the horizon, and Dad’s ute is parked out the front. I pull into my driveway and kill the engine, listening to it tick as it cools. I avoid the confrontation with my father for as long as I can.

I run my eyes over the front of the house and vow to myself to start working on tidying the place up. To start making it a haven instead of a prison cell.

“You planning on coming inside, or are we eating out here?” Dad appears at my window, and I jump, having been so lost in thought that I hadn’t noticed him walk towards the car.

“So I’m cooking for you and dealing with a lecture?” I ask, feeling the resentment start to rise.

“No. I got us pizzas from in town. And beer.”

Well, at least he wasn’t being completely presumptuous.

I grumble my thanks and he follows me inside, grabbing the pizzas and carton of beer from the front porch. “I thought you’d have let yourself in?”

“I didn’t want to let myself in uninvited,” Dad replies with a shrug, and I raise an eyebrow at him.

He’s got a key to my place and has often let himself in over the years.

“Why the sudden use of manners?” I ask, dropping my keys in the bowl I keep by the front door.

Then, I get to work, removing my work boots. Dad bends to do the same, and I notice him wince and grip his back.

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