Page 56 of How We End
“I doubt you do,” I threw back, knowing how stupid it was I was arguing with a child about the merits of an adult man.“And when should I watch your NHL game?Never?”
“Wyatt.”My sister shoved me.
“He started it.”I shifted my glare to Remington.
“Whatever.What time is dinner?Carly and me are gonna go to the rink and put some pucks in the back of the net.Unlike Silver.”
“It’s I.Carly and I.And with grammar like that, you better hope your hockey career takes off,” I threw back at the teen, who rolled his eyes and took a bag of chips before he left the kitchen.What the hell did he or Hunter know about hockey?
“What the hell’s gotten into you?”my sister asked.“He’s seventeen.”
“If that little shit can’t take it, he shouldn’t run his mouth.And your husband shouldn’t either.I don’t see him playing for the national league.Did you stop at the store?”I watched her unload the same things I had bought.
“I didn’t realize you were so passionate about hockey.And yes, I know how you are with lists.”My sister put the Cool Whip in the fridge.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.Forget it.And please don’t pick any more fights with Remington.He’s moody enough.”
I watched my sister flutter around the kitchen, putting away the groceries.This was a repeat of our childhood.It was like watching déjà vu.I’d do something and she would redo it or check to make sure I did it to her liking.Back then, I knew Morgan was trying to pick up the slack of our parents, but we were adults now.
“Why did you go and see Mom today?”She opened and closed a couple cupboards, pulling out pasta and a jarred sauce.
“Because our father said I should.What the fuck is going on?”I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Don’t start.This doesn’t concern you,” she said, her head inside the fridge.
“It doesn’t?Okay, I didn’t know she wasn’t my mother.”
“Wyatt,” my sister warned, shutting the fridge.
“Don’t Wyatt me.This facility thatyouwant to put Mom in is like a prison.They drug people.”
Morgan blinked at the ceiling with an irritated sigh before facing me.“This is not your concern.”
“Yes, it is.She’s my mother too.”
Morgan turned to face me.“No, she’s your mother for twenty minutes during a holiday.She’s mine every day at all hours.At three in the morning when they can’t calm her down.When they needed to sedate her to do a pap smear and pull teeth.During Remington’s game and Ferris’s band concert.During the lunch rush and all the times in between those times.So before you get on your high horse and start judging me, take a long look in the mirror.”
“I ask you every time I call how she is,” I shouted at her.“Every time.How’s Dad?How are the boys?How’s Hunter?How’s the bar?Every.Fucking.Time I call.And what do you say?Fine.Everyone is fucking fine,” I mocked her.
“You’re in Vegas.What the fuck are you going to do?Huh?Fly back here and save us?Your sugar daddy gonna bail out your family’s failing bar?Maybe pay for Cassidy’s braces or for Remington’s college?Huh?”
“Fuck you.”At least I knew where my mother got her favorite word from.
“No.Fuck you.You left.You left me with this mess.You left me with a bar that is failing and a father who won’t admit it.You left me with a mother who has lost her mind.You.Left.Me.So fuck you!”
“You stayed!”I shouted back at her.“The road goes both ways here.This is the life you wanted.You!Not me.I got the fuck out of here.”
“There you go again.I had responsibilities.A child,” Morgan shouted at me, slamming a pan onto the stove.“But responsibilities are a foreign concept to you, aren’t they?”
“You made the choice,” I yelled back at her.“Mom gave you the same option as me.But I think you were glad you got knocked up.In fact I think you did it on purpose.Because you were too afraid to leave.”I stepped closer.“Because if you failed, who the hell would you blame then?Huh?”
“You think so?”Her voice was low.
“Yes, I do.”Morgan had married Hunter, moved into our parents’ house, and short of the three boys, she was living my parents’ life.
“Really?And you turned out so well?”she shouted at me.
