Page 58 of As the Rain Falls
“How’s Mom?” I shift awkwardly, not knowing what to do with myself.
“She’s better.” He takes off his suit, dropping it against the dining table. When Dad looks at me again, his gaze soften. “I understand that you don’t want to leave yet, but I just don’t get why you’re keeping the dog.”
I frown. “What?”
“It’s too much work for you. You’re not consistent,” he points out. “What happens when you get too focused with working at the farm and forget to come home again?”
It happened a few times before, but I never slept at Well’s. Actually, I got home late and forgot to do my chores. When I get in the zone, it’s too easy to ignore the rest of the world. Unless I’m keeping a strict routine, my work rhythm is pretty much a mess.
“But he’s our dog, Dad.” I meet his gaze, feeling uncertain. Though I’m not surprised by his reaction to Pepé being here, I don’t understand where this is all coming from. Keeping Lucia’s dog was never a problem before. “Pepé belonged to Lucia,” I add, willing him to understand that I’m not about to give the golden retriever away.
He looks at me like I’ve just spoken in another language.
“Just give the damn dog away to some kid in town, Beckett.”
Pepé barks outside, happily chasing a blue butterfly. I grin despite myself, ignoring the annoyance I feel about his very last comment.
“I want him gone by tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, no,” I snort lightly, trying not to get heated about it. “I’m keeping the dog.”
“Who’s taking care of him?” Gregory’s voice hardens, pressing the issue. “When you’re out there, working at your farm with that old man? I won’t be cleaning up poop off the floor while I’m here, understand?”
“Okay. First of all, it’s not my farm; it’s Well’s. Second, Pepé doesn’t poop inside ever,” I try to correct him. The audacity of this man, of thinking he can dictate anything about our lives now, is mind-blowing. “If it comes down to it, I’ll figure something out. I can find someone to watch him when I’m not around so you don’t have to.”
I’ll do whatever it takes, but I’m not about to give Lucia’s pet away. All Pepé has ever known is this house; abandoning him is the most irresponsible, heartless thing I could ever do to him.
My father probably doesn’t understand the attachment Lucia and I feel towards Pepé because everything is just a commodity to him. He is not a very sentimental man. I don’t think his upbringing allowed him to care about anything other than survival. Unless the dog is made out of money, his presence is clearly not a necessity.
“Alright, he’syourproblem now,”Gregory emphasizes. When I don’t say anything else, he laughs, opens up the fridge again, and grabs the orange juice. “What, am I your fucking babysitter now?”
Too tired to keep arguing about it, I quickly decide to drop the case entirely. A burning headache is creeping in at the back of my skull, latching in a slow, relentless way.
“I’ll work harder,” I say.
“You better,” he sighs and takes out the orange juice from the freezer. “Can you believe your cousin Aaron managed to fuck up our collaboration with the Carltons? He doesn’t have a clue in the world.”
“Right.”
Watching him move around the house, taking up space, acting like he belongs here all of a sudden, stirs the worst visceral reaction in me. It’s an emotion that I can’t quite control. Suddenly, I become a thirteen-year-old boy again, harboring anger against the world, but mostly at him.
The way Lucia and I grew up, in this cold, unwelcoming place we like to call home, is entirely his fault. He built us that way, keeping us and our mother at arm’s length. I’m sure they once loved each other, at least at the very beginning, but after I was born it all went to shit. I’m too imperfect for him.
The worst thing you can do to someone who loves you isn’t hating them. It’s never loving them enough in return. Gregory made sure I learned that from an early age. I’d rather die than to grow old to become a man like him.
“You’d be a much better option, Beckett.” He fills his cup and gestures at me. “You’re reliable and serious. You’re not one to mess around.”
“Of course,” I nod, trying to remember whether I should be worried about Aaron not managing the job or not. He is a negotiator, much like my father is. I don’t have a clue about contracts, and I don’t want to be part of the family’s business. “He’ll figure it out, right?”
“I sure as hell hope so,” Gregory chuckles. “It’s a fifteen million dollar contract.”
My phone buzzes in my back pocket.
Tony: Meet U At the?
The Usual Spot*
Need A Break From Hpme
