Page 37 of Smut

But I also know that not everything is as it seems. With Crawford’s Books losing money, they’re a single income family. They may have this giant house with the brick driveway and fruit trees in the garden, but Angelica has no choice but to work around the clock to keep it.

“Hey bud,” I tell Kevin as I lock the car and stroll over. “Where are the rents?”

He shrugs lazily. He doesn’t look at me. “I don’t know. Getting ready.”

“Feeling pissed off they didn’t invite you?”

“No,” he grumbles, then stabs the sword between bricks. “I hate the Chaunceys.”

“That’s a strong word,” I tell him, sitting beside him. I practically have to shove him over to make room.

“Yeah well they’re a bunch of turdburgulars,” he says.

I can’t help but smile. It reminds me of the insults Amanda lets loose every now and then.

“Turdburgulars are the worst,” I tell him.

I totally get it though. In the time I’ve been here, I’ve met the Chaunceys on a few occasions and they’re straight out of the Lord and Lady Douchebag sketch from SNL. The funny thing is, I lived in England all my life and I know just the kind of people they’re trying to be. Sometimes when I look at Amanda I wonder if she was brought up by people like this, ones who think they own the land because they were part of the British stock who arrived here at the turn of the century. What they need to be told is that colonial Canadian history is so short and minute compared to the centuries we have going on overseas. If you have an important bloodline in England it’s because you can trace your family back to the bloody Dark Ages and beyond. Here it’s if someone’s lived in the same house for a few decades.

“Ah, you’re here,” my dad says as he and Angelica open the door, stepping out behind us. “Thought I would have heard your car from a mile away.”

“I still don’t know what you were thinking letting him buy that thing from Uncle Mike,” Angelica says derisively, flicking her long dark ponytail over her shoulder. Angelica looks like a lesser version of Kate Beckinsale and she’s still out of his league. Come to think of it, so was my mom. There must be something to the Crawford charm.

I let her comment about the car slide. So does my dad. His face goes red briefly but he keeps his mouth shut. “We’ll see you in a few hours,” he says tersely and the two of them slip past us, heading for their Lexus. I wonder if my dad knows how silly it is to be driving a car like that while on the verge of bankruptcy. With how crabby he is lately, I’m assuming he does.

They’ve just driven out of sight, disappearing behind a row of budding maple trees, when Kevin quietly announces, “They’re getting divorced.”

It takes me a moment to process this. “What?”

He looks up at me and nods, mouth set in a firm line like he’s determined not to cry. “It’s true.”

“What? Kevin, what are you talking about? They aren’t getting divorced.” Though the moment I say it, I know I’m wrong.

“Yes they are,” Kevin says, stabbing the ground again for emphasis. “They fight all the time and when they aren’t fighting, they don’t talk to each other.”

“That’s just marriage, buddy.”

“No,” he says sharply. “It’s not. I keep hearing them talking about ‘when do we tell Kevin?’ and ‘wait until school is over’ and ‘you’re an asshole, Paul.’”

“But—”

“And then I found letters from lawyers. Two different ones. I googled them. They’re divorce lawyers!”

Bloody hell, this kid is resourceful.

I shake my head. “Oh, Kevin. I’m sure there’s some explanation.”

“There is no explanation!” he yells at me, getting to his feet. “You’re just like them! You don’t tell me the truth, all you do is bullshit.”

I get to my feet. “Watch your language, Kev.”

“Blake! Fuck! You!” he half-yells, half-sobs, and then starts running around the house, the cape flying behind him. I stand where I am, completely gobsmacked. I’d never heard him swear like that before but I guess this is as good of a reason as any.

My dad and Angelica, getting a divorce. No wonder my dad has been so grouchy, why I’ve been watching Kevin and working at the store more and more. They’ve got a divorce in the works and my stepbrother will be caught in the middle, again, since he already had to go through a divorce when he was younger.

I can only hope that whatever agreement they have that my dad doesn’t get completely screwed over. Angelica isn’t the warmest, or nicest, person but she has to know that she’s holding all the cards and my father has practically nothing.

I sigh, knowing I have to find Kevin even though he probably just wants to be alone. I walk around the house, hands in my pockets, feeling terrible that everything my dad wanted will once more be taken away.

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