Page 91 of Otto: The Hawthornes

“What the fuck’s she supposed to do in an emergency?” Rumi asked. His look of disbelief had morphed into a glare that made me even more defensive.

“She’s fine.”

“At leastthiscabin has electricity and runnin’ water,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “I’ll give you that.”

“Say what?” I barked, taking a step forward.

“She a fuckin’ prisoner or your wife?”

“Jesus Christ,” my dad muttered, shoving me back a step. “The two of you are on my last goddamn nerve. Knock it off.”

“I’m gonna get her a phone.”

“Right,” Rumi spit.

“We weren’t exactly thinkin’ about phones!”

My dad’s lips twitched. “Did you even leave the bed?” he asked knowingly.

“Yes.”

He laughed. “Get her a phone today, yeah? She needs one in case there’s an emergency or you know, if your mom wants to call her.”

“Why would Mom need to call her?” I asked suspiciously.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” Rumi muttered, walking away.

I flipped him off.

“They can’t maintain this nothin’-to-see-here game forever,” my dad said, leaning his ass against the car where Rumi had been. “But I have a feelin’ that when shit starts happenin’ it’sgoin’ to be a surprise, and it’s gonna get ugly. You need a way to get ahold of your wife when that happens.”

“She’s not a fuckin’ prisoner,” I mumbled, feeling like an asshole. We really hadn’t thought about getting her a new phone. She didn’t have anyone to call, and it wasn’t as if I’d spent the week with mine out. I’d put it on the kitchen counter when we got home from the wedding and I hadn’t picked it up again until I’d left for work that morning.

“I know shit is up in the air right now,” Dad said quietly. “But eventually you two are gonna have to start buildin’ a life, yeah? She needs a phone. She’s gonna need a car. You’re gonna need to start gettin’ ready for that baby.”

“It’s been a week.”

“Pretty sure your mom already set up an appointment for her to see the doctor,” Dad said. “And she’s got no way to get ahold of Esther to make that happen.”

“She can let me know—” I stopped talking when I saw the look on his face. “Yeah, I get it. I’ll take care of the phone tonight.”

“She’s comin’ from literally nothin’, bud,” he said kindly. “With a suitcase and a bunch of shitty fuckin’ memories. I know it’s all afterglow and novelty now, but the sooner you give her a little independence and start makin’ an actual fuckin’ life, the better off you’ll both be.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

I spent the rest of the day thinking about what my dad had said and avoiding Rumi. Fuck him. I wasn’t trying to keep Esther a prisoner in my house and comparing me to her fuckwad father was a low blow.

I couldn’t deny that on the surface, it looked bad, though. Dad was right. I’d left Esther in the house all morning with no way to call anyone if she needed to and no way to get anywhere since I’d forgotten to leave the Mustang key at home.

The day had started out so well but got worse by the hour, and by the time I got on my bike to head home, I was in a foul mood. I not only felt like an absolute piece of shit for leaving Esther stranded all day, but I also just fucking missed her. Not talking to her at all after spending the whole week with her beside me felt seriously fucking wrong, and I was worried that she’d spent the day needing me with no way to get a hold of me.

Using the garage door opener so I could park my bike also reminded me that I hadn’t even gotten her a decent wedding gift either and now it was a week late.

“You’re home,” Esther called happily as I stepped inside the kitchen and kicked my boots off. She rounded the corner and stood there, fully dressed and her hair pulled back into a tight bun, the slippers mocking me from her feet.

“I am,” I confirmed, frozen in place as the anxiety I’d been fighting all day disappeared.

“It was quiet here today without your music going,” she said, smiling. “How was work?”

---