Page 73 of Anti Player

“Mom,” Asher chides and I wince.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.”

We haven’t heard from our father in five freaking years.

“You can’t do that, Mom. Send him packing,” Brett urges.

“Why did he come back?” I ask quietly.

“He’s crying, saying he’s sorry for all the trouble. He wants to get sober and he needs help,” my brother explains.

“Why will this time be different?” I ask.

Brett shrugs looking torn.

He has Mom on speaker now.

“Hi, Mom,” I say so she knows I can hear her.

“Hi, darling, sorry to put a damper on your Friday evening,” she sighs.

“No worries, I just got back from work,” I say. I look down at Asher. “Why don’t you go play video games or something. There’s too much adult stuff going on here.”

He cheers and runs off.

“You work too hard, Madison,” Mom chides.

“Okay, let’s refocus here,” Brett redirects. “Tell the old man to leave.”

“I can’t do that,” Mom shoots back. Damn, this is old habits dying hard.

“He can’t stay with you, that’s crazy at this point,” Brett says. “You can’t put up with this shit anymore.” My brother is livid and so am I.

“I need you to come help me,” Mom says. “I don’t want him here, but I also don’t know how to tell him to leave.”

“Put him on the phone. I’ll tell him to go,” Brett booms. It’s not that my brother doesn’t have feelings, it’s that our fatherhas walked all over all of us since we were small. He takes off for years at a time, then thinks he can just come home and everything will be fine, until the next time. Mom took him back enough times. This needs to end.

“Brett, he’s in a bad way. He looks thin and he’s a mess,” Mom says. “He’s still your father.”

Those words sting. It’s what she always used to say when she took him back.

My stomach churns.

“She needs help,” I whisper to my brother. “I’ll go.”

“You aren’t taking Asher around that man,” Brett quips. “I’ll go.”

“Are you sure, because I can handle it. Asher can stay back here with you,” I suggest.

“He needs his mom, Maddie. You stay. I’ll get on a standby flight.”

“Thanks, Brett.”

“Just make sure you’re ready for Florida come Wednesday morning,” he reminds.

I’m truly blessed to have a brother like him. How he could think he is anything like our father is insane.

“I’m so sorry, kids,” Mom says. It’s an apology we’ve heard before. I can’t be mad at her. I feel sorry for her.

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