Page 5 of Of Heartbreak and Harmony
“He’s my dog. I’m keeping him.”
“You can’t have a dog.”
“Yes, I can!”
“No, you can’t! I can barely afford to feed the three of us. I can’t take care of a dog, too.”
“You won’t have to. I have a job now. I can take care of him.”
“And what about when you go back to school in the fall, huh? What about then?”
“My boss already told me I can work nights, weekends, and breaks once school is back.”
I shake my head, frustration tightening all my tired muscles until my fingers start to tremble, and I have to ball them into fists.
“No. Absolutely not. You’re not working during school, Glor. We’ve been over this. You focus on your grades and basketball. You’re not working. I’m working.”
“I’m going to be sixteen soon, and you can’t tell me what to do.”
“Yes, I can, Glory. You’re not wor?—”
“You’re not my mom!”
She shouts the words in my face, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from shouting back. It’s not the first time she’s said them to me. In fact, on the list of cruel shit she’s said to me, this doesn’t even register in the top ten.
It still sucks, though.
Not so much the statement—it’s true, I’m not her mom—but the vitriol she hurls behind it. Being on the receiving end of her hatred hurts. I’ve thrown my entire life away to come back here and take care of her, and she still acts as if she hates me ninety percent of the time. I guess I’d rather it be directed at me than Mom, though.
I straighten my spine and take a few calming breaths. Glory’s nostrils flare and she pants with rage. I look behind her at the dog. He hasn’t barked again, but his head is tilted to the side and he’s staring at me with eyes so green they could be emeralds.
He’s judging me.
He’s definitelynoton my side.
I turn back to my pissed-off sister.
“Look, I’m sorry, Glor, but you just can’t have a?—"
“Mom already said I could keep him.”
My jaw drops and she smirks at me. I had to have heard her wrong. She’s got to be lying.
“Excuse me?”
Glory shrugs, then turns and kneels next to the dog, wrapping her arms around his neck. He licks her face, and she giggles.
“He’s already been here for a week, and you didn’t even notice.”
I blink and run through the last week in my head. I worked doubles. I was home long enough to shower and sleep. And she’s right. I can’t think of a single thing thatsuggests there was a dog here.
“Why didn’t you just lead with that?” I ask after a minute, and Glory shrugs again.
“Didn’t think of it.”
Little brat. She just wanted to argue with me. All she does these days is pick fights. I feel like I need to put on metaphorical boxing gloves the moment I wake up.
“Did I hear yelling?”
