Page 81 of Truck Off

Her voice trails off. Then her shoulders slump as if whatever excuse she was going to give doesn’t make any sense.

“Well, you two might as well come in. I just put on a pot of coffee.” George opens the screen door and then waves us in.

“That’s not necessary. I think Chase needs to get going,” Lina says quickly.

“Nonsense.” I squeeze her hand to let her know I’m not going anywhere. “I can spare a few minutes to talk with your dad.”

As soon as we’re inside, Lina stiffens next to me. I glance around and immediately understand why she didn’t want me to come inside.

The place is a dump. Actually, dump might be too nice of a word. It looks like it should be condemned.

The musty smell of mold and something rotting is overwhelming. The ceiling sags and there are large water stains on the carpet. There’s not much in the way of furniture inside. Just a recliner and a small table positioned in front of an old TV.

The living room opens up to the kitchen, where I see a pharmacy worth of medication spread out on the counter. The countertops are chipped, the appliances are old, and the cabinet doors barely close.

Every instinct in me wants to pack up all her shit and drag her out of here caveman style. I almost don’t care that it would piss her off. No one should have to live like this.

I must stare at the counter full of prescription drugs for too long because George clears his throat and explains without my asking. “Too many years of hard living and drinking. I don’t recommend it. ’Fraid I did a number to my liver.”

Lina lets go of my hand and rushes to the kitchen. “Why don’t you sit Dad? I’ll get you your coffee. Did you take your meds this morning?”

He waves her off but does as she said. “Yeah, yeah. First thing. I can take care of myself, doll.”

“I know you can,” she whispers, but keeps doing what she’s doing. A moment later, she walks out with a cup of coffee for her dad. She hands it to him and then says, “I’m going to walk Chase out. I’ll be back in a few.”

He nods and squeezes her hand before she passes me without a glance and walks outside.

I turn to her dad and smile. “It was nice meeting you, George. Have a good day.”

“You too, son.” He lifts his coffee to his lips and then picks up the TV remote. I head outside and find Lina leaning against my truck.

“Hey,” I say when I reach her, but she keeps her eyes focused on the ground. I place my fingers under her chin and lift her eyes to mine. “Talk to me.”

She squeezes her eyes closed and sighs. “I didn’t want you to see any of that.”

“I figured as much.” I gather her into my arms and hold her close. “I’m not judging you if that’s what you’re worried about. But I’m not gonna lie. The thought of you living like that has me raging like a wild beast.”

“Chase, it’s fine.” She scrubs her hands over her face. I assume to hide her embarrassment.

“Baby.” I drop my head so I’m eye level with her. “You need help. You can’t manage a sick father and a falling down trailer on your own. Where’s your brother in all this? Why isn’t he helping you?”

Her embarrassment quickly shifts to frustration. “He’s in Columbus, living his life. And always way too busy to help.”

This news causes my frown to deepen. “What about you?”

She furrows her brows. “What about me?”

“When do you get to live your life? How come all this falls on your shoulders?” I wave an arm at the trailer that should be condemned.

“Who says I’m not living?”

I raise a questioning brow, and she scowls. “Don’t look at me like that, Grumps.”

“Oh, so no more baby?” she asks. “I’m back to being Grumps?”

I ignore her and continue. “You deserve better than this.”

She shakes her head. “We’re not all fortunate enough to be born into wealthy families. Or even families that have stable, steady incomes. You, of all people, should understand that. This is the life of a sick, retired MC member and his forgotten daughter. Just because you’ve seen behind the curtain doesn’t mean anything is going to change. This is poverty. This is life. My life.”

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