Page 34 of You Loved Me Once
“You don’t get to judge.”
“Judge what? This is nasty! You’re supposed to be taking care of Dad and the house. How is this okay? Seriously, Ev, I know you’re a lazy asshole, but this is insane.”
Everton huffs and walks into the other room. My brother has always been a slob, but I didn’t think I’d walk into this. I march into the living room where he sits on the couch about to light up a cigarette. I rip it from his mouth before he lights it and break it in half.
“What the fuck?” he yells.
“You’re out of your damn mind. Mom died of cancer and you’re smoking? In the house with Dad?” I tack on. “Dad, who had a cancer scare a few years ago? Not to mention what I do for a living. This is reckless and inconsiderate, even for you. What are you doing with the money I send every month?”
He rolls his eyes and grabs another cigarette from the pack, which enrages me. “Go to hell, Serenity.”
When he lifts a hand to light his cigarette, I lose it. I grab the whole pack from his hand and run to the kitchen. I hear him behind me so I quickly throw it in the sink and run the water.
“Bitch!” he bellows. “You come here after six months of being in your fancy life and think you can boss us around?”
“My life isn’t fancy, I have what I have because I work! I work every single day, unlike you. Damn it, I thought you had things under control!” I run my hand down my face. “Where’s Daddy?”
He rolls his eyes and grabs a beer from the fridge. “Find him yourself. You’re good at working.”
My brother storms out of the room, slamming the front door, which causes me to jump. I can’t believe the selfishness that comes from him. I bust my ass to send them money each month. I know my father’s medical condition has made it difficult to keep the business afloat. It’s hard to work on bikes when your fingers cramp all the time. I’m so sick of trying to save people who aren’t willing to help themselves.
Regardless of my brother’s issues, I can’t allow the house to stay this way. My father isn’t a young man, and his lungs can’t handle breathing this in daily.
I spend some time doing the best I can to make it livable. I throw in a load of laundry, strip my father’s bed, open the windows and try to air out the smoke smell, and then order groceries online. This is probably what I should’ve done from the start instead of thinking my jackass of a brother would use the money I sent correctly.
Once I’ve done what I can, I head down the long dirt road to the shop.
My parents inherited the land, and being the hippies they were, they lived off it. We have a garden with vegetables, everything runs off solar panels that backs up to a generator for the non-sunny times, and Daddy converted the old barn into a garage.
He built it this way in case the government ever wanted to destroy us, so we could hunker down here and never leave. My parents were very weird.
“Baby girl?” My dad comes down the dirt path, wiping his permanently black-stained hands on a rag.
“Daddy,” I sigh with a smile. His brown eyes sparkle in the sun and happiness paints his face.
I don’t see him nearly enough, since he’s a little over an hour’s drive from Chicago. I wish I could come more often, but it’s hard to get away from the hospital. He’s changed a bit since the last time I saw him—there’s a slight limp in his gait and more salt than pepper in his hair. It makes me realize how long it’s really been.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise?” His smirk says more than his words.
“I needed a break.”
“I’m sure. It’s tough saving the world all the time. Sometimes you need to save yourself.”
I nod, and his arm tightens around me as he pulls me to his side. “I missed you, Daddy. I’m sorry I haven’t come more. I just needed to hug you.”
“Sure you did,” he laughs. “So, what’s got you all torn up?”
Damn intuitive man.
I grunt while I squeeze him harder. “Can’t a girl just miss her daddy? You persuaded me to visit on our last call.”
There are times in life when you need the loving arms of a man who never fails you—and this is one. My father is my rock, and while that rock may be a little misshapen, he’s always honest.
“Sure, she can, but I know bullshit when I hear it. I’ve been around a long time and you’re not very good at lying anyway.”
Nothing gets by Mick Adams.
“You’re so pushy.”
