Page 21 of Just Enough

“I don’t know if I can, Emily…” He was being honest when he met my eyes. “But, I think it’s time to try.”

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I didn’t think the cops bought our story of me driving. I had no cell phone or driver’s license on me and neither had Dad. It had been one in the morning, and Dad had been drinking, they had tested both our levels, but they couldn’t do anything about it. Dad and I were the only ones involved, so they only had our word.

The truck and the both of us were banged up, so it had been easy to say that I was driving. The fact that my arm was broken and his wasn’t was the only issue, but I had no clue how it was broken, anyway. So, it hadn’t been hard to tell them it must have hit the steering wheel, and I didn’t think the police of Wells were going to waste their time and energy sampling the blood in the truck and whatnot to try to get me to admit that Dad was driving.

My dad made a horrible choice, and maybe I shouldn’t have said I was driving, but I made a choice to hope for better for him andfromhim. Only time would tell if my choice was the right or wrong one.

We had no choice but to call Mom at the hospital, and that was something I dreaded. She could have ruined it all if she said Dad had been driving, but she didn’t.

With a splint and sling on my arm and an appointment to go get a cast in a few days, we left the hospital with Mom.

Dad had some fractured ribs, and we were both heavily bruised and scratched up. I had dried blood all over me and was exhausted, but now I would have to figure out how to bathe myself and get through this horrible night once we were home.

“What were you thinking?” Mom scowled at Dad the moment we were in the car. “Do you realize a broken arm is nothing compared to what could have happened to our daughter?” She was talking to him like I wasn’t there.

“I know, Deb. I fucked up.” He sat in the backseat with his eyes closed and breathing heavily. He probably felt just as horrible as I did.

“Yes, you did,” she seethed. “You could have killed yourself too.” Some of her anger left, replaced with guilt. “Don’t make me feel guilty for leaving you.”

She didn’t say anything else until she was dropping us off. “Don’t stay and take care of him, Emily. You’re plenty old enough to move out if you don’t want to come with me.”

I looked at him nervously. “I’ll do better. I’m going to stop drinking.” He sounded tired when he spoke.

She laughed, only it was one of hurt. “It takes this for you to want to change?”

“No, it’s been on my mind since you left.” He startled us both. “It’s hard not to think about what a waste I am when my wife leaves and Emily’s terrified to leave me alone or tell me any hard truths like I’m fragile.” He winced, cupping his side as he spoke.

She crossed her arms. “I want to see it then.”

He met her cold glare with a softer one. “Will you come home?”

“No. I’m not coming back, Nolan, but prove me wrong. I don’t think you’ve got what it takes to quit drinking.”

“Be careful,” he told her as he started walking in the house still holding his side.

“Don’t start acting like you care now,” she hissed, but her gaze was sad as she looked at his back as he disappeared into the house.

She cared. She did. I saw it then. And I heard it in her words as she was giving him tough love before he walked inside. Dad must have heard it too that was why he didn’t say anything.

She looked at me and wrapped me in her arms. “I’m sorry I made him worse.”

I shook my head and pulled away from her just so that she could see my face. “No, Mom, you made him better.”

Only nobody knew it yet.

After cleaning up the best I could in the bathroom, instead of going in my room and sleeping, I found myself walking downstairs to check on Dad, but he wasn’t in his recliner. I found him in his and Mom’s room—well, just his now.

Without turning on the light, I climbed into bed and laid next to him. “Dad.”

“Hmm?” he murmured.

“Why did you start drinking?”

He sighed. “Imagine waking up every morning and going to work and enjoying it. Taking care of your family and providing for them is something you loved to do. I had a cute little daughter and a beautiful wife, then the very job that provided for us nearly crippled me and took my back out in the process. Imagine going weeks without getting out of a bed, and your wife brings you home and cares for you, even wiping the shit off your ass. Suddenly, I’m not the provider, I’m being taken care of instead. And we had so many bills when you were little, and with my recovery taking so long, we knew I could no longer work, so your mom found work and I…slowly slipped into what I never thought I’d be.”

I wish I could remember what he was like before he started drinking, but I couldn’t.

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