Page 7 of Three Not-So-Little Words
Being the great guy that he is, he offered me a job.
I thought us moving here would be a great way to get a fresh start. Hopefully, we could escape some of the bad memories
Let’s hope it actually works.
three
Come Here, You Fucking Weirdo
Ronnie
“Dad!” I squeal as I run toward him. I throw my bag down so that he can wrap me in a big hug.
My dad gives the best hugs in the whole world.
No matter how many times I fly home, he insists on picking me up from the airport. I’ve told him time and time again that he doesn’t have to since it’s damn near an hour drive from our hometown of Lilly Leaf Falls.
But every time, he just tells me that everyone should have someone waiting for them when they get off the plane.
“My little Veronica! I’ve missed you!” He says.
“Missed you too, Dad.” And I mean it.
I love my job, and I love to travel. Usually, I don’t have any regrets. Being away from my family is the one exception to that.
When we end the hug, he grabs my carry-on, and we head for baggage claim.
“How was Brazil?” He asks.
“Beautiful. But hotter than horse piss.”
He smiles. “With the good comes the bad.”
We make some small talk as we grab my bag and head out to his truck.
As he starts the long drive, I look over at my dad. All of us kids favor him over our mother with our dark hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin. Those Greek genes of his run deep.
Around town, my dad is considered quite the looker. Any woman would love to have an evening with him. But he’s only ever had eyes for my mom. She’s the only woman he even sees.
It’s so cute that it’s downright nauseating.
Dad breaks the silence. “You know, it’s going to be weird having you in town and not having you at the house.”
“Think how weird it’s going to be for me. I’m not going to have anyone to talk to.” I laugh.
Until now, I've always stayed with my parents when I would come home. It was easier that way.
I had an apartment in New York for a while, so part of my stuff stayed there while the rest was housed in my childhood bedroom. Since I’m rarely in the Big Apple, and I was paying out the ass for an apartment I was never in, I gave it up and had everything shipped back to my parents’. Well, everything of importance.
With my sister getting married, she and her fiancé bought a bigger house, so I’m renting their old one.
It’s a big step for me because I never put down roots anywhere. I lived in New York because I romanticized the idea of living in the big city.
The big city I was never in.
What a fucking moron.
Oh well. Not my first stupid decision and certainly won’t be my last.
