Page 16 of Sweet Dreams

I leave the café without ordering. Elma has a way with her words; I’m not in the mood for it. I need to talk to my parents, they’ll know what to do.

The family home hasn’t changed one bit since I moved out over fifteen years ago. I swear my parentsdon’t know what renovations are. The house still looks like it should be in the 80s. Don’t worry; the worst is yet to come.

Floor-to-ceiling floral wallpaper greets me as I enter the front door, and it’s something I still haven’t gotten used to. I’ve tried talking Mom into tearing it down, painting it a lovely off-white colour, and adding accent tones. But she shot that down quicker than a sniper can shoot his target.

“Teagan? What are you doing here?” Mom rounds the corner of the kitchen, looking shocked to see me.

I enter the kitchen and find Mom making a tea. “Where’s Dad? I need to talk to the both of you.” Mom is still looking at me, waiting for answers, but frankly, I only want to retell this story once.

“He’s in the garage, I’ll grab him.” She heads out, but looks at me once more with worry.

I should’ve known. He’s probably tinkering on something that doesn’t need to be tinkered with. That man shouldn’t have retired. Dad needs a hobby, like fishing, but he doesn’t want to leave Mom alone. I’ll never understand a romantic relationship, but a few hours by yourself shouldn’t be a problem. I think Mom would enjoy somealone time.

I’m halfway through making an apple cider when Dad comes storming into the kitchen like someone just murdered his kitten.

“What’s wrong, Small fry?”

I set my cup on the table and look between him and Mom. “Sit.” I pull a chair out and sit.

“Fuck, she’s pregnant, and the asshole walked out on her.” Dad pulls a chair out and slams his fist on the table.

“Whoa, slow your roll, Dad. I’m not sixteen; I’m thirty-five. I’m sure if I did end up pregnant one day, I’d be okay being a single mom. Anyway. The shop flooded, and I had to close it.”

Why does he jump to the most extreme? I would’ve thought something along the lines of something that happened to the house, such as the car breaking. But no, it’s my uterus that has finally been used. Mom sits next to me, giving me a small hug.

“It’ll be okay. What do you need us to do?”

I spin around my cup of cider, wondering about all the shit that needs to be done. “To be honest. The insurance company is sending someone over today.”

“I’ll be there with you. Those rat bastards will try anything to scam the smallest thing out of you,” Dad interrupts.

“That’s a good idea, dear. Dad will not let them take advantage of you. God knows what they’ll try to pull,” Mom adds, patting my hand.

I lean back in my chair, taking a sip of my cider. Only my parents would try to still treat me like a child. I’m pretty sure I know how to stand my ground regarding my business. I keep my mouth shut; some things are best unsaid, especially around Dad.

Dad parks in front of the shop minutes before the appointment with the insurance broker, and my mind is about to explode. Every what-if scenario is running through. What if the flooring needs to be replaced, the insurance company won’t cover repairs, Nancy might not allow me to get a new permit, or God forbid the fire hydrant blows its top again?

“Teagan, it’ll be all right. No matter what happens, you have Mom and I standing behind you through the entire thing.”

I glance over and see that he’s staring at the shop. “Thanks, Dad. We should get in there and take a look around, get my tears out before a stranger sees them.”

He chuckles. “You won’t cry. You’re too tough to cry.”

At this point, I could probably cry The Nile. My stress level is through the roof, and today will be my breaking point. I knew owning a business wouldn’t be easy, but it’s a bookstore, the most relaxing hobby in the world. Yet the owner is stressing.

A blue four-door Sedan pulls up next to us, with EDM blaring from the speakers. I snap my head to the side window, and a twenty-something punk is sitting in the car. If this is the broker, Dad is going to lose his shit.

“It’s a punk kid? Jesus Christ, Teagan.”

“It’s fine, Dad. Don’t be a jerk to him. I still need him to do his job.” I open the truck door, taking a deep breath. Dad and his old-ass ego can take a hike for a few hours. As I walk towards the shop door, I suddenly feel like someone is watching me. I resist the temptation to turn around and check.

I just want this day to be over anddone with.

The only thing that has been keeping me going is the thought of Teagan running away from me the other night. Deep down, I hoped she wanted to try something risky by moving to the school park. I would’ve bent her over the swing and fucked her in the open without a care.

Instead, I’m sitting in a stolen car, waiting for Leroy to show up. But classic Leroy, he’s late as always, even though this is his job, not mine. I should’ve known this would happen. He pulls this shit all the time while my asshole puckers every time a vehicle passes, and I’m waiting for it to be a cop and bust my ass.

I’m the one to be blamed; I answered the phone and agreed to this. But all I want to do is get back to Holden. Small-town life wasn’t in my books, but this seals the deal for me, I can’t keep stealing cars and trying to make a living. It’s not worth it. I don’t think Leroy knows what is involved anymore; he’s so far out of touch that it’s unreal. All he sees at the end of the day is the dollar signs.

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