Page 236 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
“Could you feel it?”
The distance, yeah? Where is he today?
“How do you know it wasn’t my idea?”
I tap my forehead, near the temple, with five closed together fingers, then point to Dollie, telling her,I know you.
She breathes deep, looking away, giving the truth away.
Bingo.
Her eyes find me again, and I convey another message,and I know you don’t want this weird distance between us.
“Shane thinks we’re too close. Given our history, he’s probably right.”
Loads of siblings lean on each other.
“Most don’t share a bed until they’re teenagers.”
Most didn’t have our childhood. Or our bond.
“We’re not kids anymore.”
And we don’t share a bed.
“Don’t be an asshole. He’s uncomfortable.”
Shame.
I’m about to give her my back and the silent treatment because I’m not in the right frame of mind for this shit, when another question heads my way.
“Why didn’t you take them to the cemetery?”
Because the locals feel they have more right to be there than I do.
She has no reply to that, and with her head down, she slinks back into the reading room.
The late hour brings black clouds to the kitchen window. It’ll be midnight in less than half an hour, and Mom and Dad’s day will be over for another year.
And I’ll have missed it.
I pour myself a whiskey. The smell numbs me before anything enters my mouth.
My buzzing phone alerts me to a message, and I leave the drink on the tabletop to answer it.
Annabelle:
You doing okay?
Ambrose:
I wanted to go and see them.
The locals didn’t want me there.
Annabelle:
I doubt any locals are there now.
