Page 64 of Sticking Around

The pills she’s been on for as long as I can remember…and the booze.

I glance out the window, stare at the trees blowing in the light breeze as my chest tightens. “Okay, no problem.”

“Why haven’t you sent the money for the new SUV?”

Jesus.

“I’m not a goddamn ATM,” I blurt out without thinking.

Mom gasps. “What the hell, Brady? You might not be a goddamn ATM, but you’d be nothing without me. You owe me.”

The thing is, I always felt like I owed her. But what about me, my life, my future? I haven’t fucking been living.

I hear a rustling sound and Uncle Wayne’s voice comes over the phone. “What the hell has gotten into you, son?”

The blood in my veins freezes. “I’m not your son.”

“You ungrateful little bastard,” he yells. “Who do you think you are?”

“I think I’m Brady Fisher.”

“Brady Fisher, who’s forgotten where he came from.”

A disgruntled laugh bubbles from my throat as I say, “Oh, no. Trust me. I’ve not forgotten where I’ve come from. I know exactly where I’ve come from.”

“What the hell you getting at, b’y? You some big shot now? Living in the big city, and think you’re better than the rest of us.”

Bile punches into my throat. “It’s not that.”

“Oh, probably got a new fancy house and car. Can’t help family anymore.”

“Wayne…what’s wrong with the last vehicle I bought?” I ask. “It’s only two years old.”

“Why are you questioning me? You don’t believe we need a new vehicle.”

I open the passenger side door and step into the night, letting the cool air wash over me. “It’s just a question.”

“Since when did you start questioning things?”

“Since now.”

“If you need to know, Carl needs a new vehicle. I’m going to give him that piece of shit you bought two years ago.”

Piece of shit?

Gravel crunches beneath my feet as I walk aimlessly. “Maybe Carl should buy his own vehicle.”

“What’s he saying?” I hear my mother yell out, and then muffled sounds come through the phone.

“What’s going on with you, Brady?” Mom shouts into the phone.

“I’m just wondering why Carl can’t buy his own vehicle.”

“You know…he’s…he’s out of work.” Her words come out a bit slurred.

“They’re upgrading the processing plant, new technology, new jobs. Maybe he can get work there. Maybe Uncle Wayne should check it out, too.”

A gasp of outrage rings in my ear. “Are you saying you’re not going to help?”

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