“What happened?” she says, blinking at my scowl and Reese’s stiff posture.
“Nothing,” I grunt.
Theo gives me a hurt look because that breaks our rule against lying.
24
THEO
Ican’t remember when I had more fun than our afternoon on the pier, but the mood in the car on the way home was strained.
That’s the second time I’ve walked in on Sully and Reese squabbling. Maybe that’s just their dynamic, but I can’t help feeling like it’s got something to do with me.
There was a definite vibe like they were talking about me when I walked up with the lemonade. They both shut up instantly and gave me that awkward look like they were worried how much I heard. Sullivan seemed pissed and Reese wouldn’t make eye contact.
They both relax over dinner, which we eat outside in a yard almost entirely cleared of debris after Merrick and I spent most of Saturday hauling out four trash bins of dead branches and undergrowth.
Sully wouldn’t like it if he knew how much work I’ve been doing around the house—he told me to take it easy and relax on my rare weekend off. But he’s a hypocrite because he was at appointments all day on Saturday, and anyway, I love hanging out with his dad.
My dad took off when I was eight. But he wasn’t that great a father to begin with. Honestly, it was kind of a relief when he was gone because at least I didn’t have to hear my mom crying in her room as much.
Once it was just the two of us, we were poor as hell, but our apartment was quiet and calm. If my mom said she could come to my school play, she’d be there, and if she had to work, that was okay, too, because at least she was honest about it.
My father was nothing but a chain of broken promises: birthday gifts he talked up for months but never actually bought, outings that were supposed to be fun and special that turned out to be me sitting in the car while he popped into the pub for “just a minute” to have a drink with his friends.
My mom was the only person I could count on. She never let me down. She never would—until cancer took away that choice.
You’d think it might bother me being around Merrick. I’ll admit, the smell of liquor leeching from his skin does induce a queasy mix of dread and nostalgia. But yesterday when we worked in the yard, all he smelled like was clean sweat and smoke. And in every other respect, he’s nothing like my dad.
My dad was a bragger, a liar, a fantasist. When I was really small, I adored him because he could tell the most incredible stories. He’d have my mom and me rolling with some anecdote about how he avoided a speeding ticket or some prank he pulled with his buddy’s lunch pail.
But later, I started to pick up on the hints that he was unfaithful to my mom, and I guess, in a way, to me, too. After he left us, he remarried and had three more kids. Or so I heard from the only aunt who still talks to him.
Drinking aside, Merrick’s nothing like my dad.
He’s honest—sometimes brutally so. He’s quiet and somber, but when I bring up a topic of interest, he’s intelligent and insightful.
And most of all, I can tell how much he loves his sons. The way he talks about Reese and Sully shows how intimately he knows them, their strengths and their weaknesses, their passions and plans.
He’s not lazy, either. He might be broken and fucked up and nonfunctional at times, but when he’s sober, he works like a beaver, head down, shoulders hunched, completing Herculean tasks in a day.
I don’t want to fool myself that I can “fix him” just by cooking him dinner, but I can see for myself that he’s doing better now than he was a week ago.
I was relieved when Sully asked me to stay a few more days. It probably won’t change anything, not long-term. But also…maybe it could.
I’ve got to figure out what’s going on with Reese, though. If he doesn’t want me here, it’s not cool for me to stay.
I corner Sully after dinner, pulling him into the music room and closing the door.
“What were you fighting about with Reese?”
He shifts in place as if he’s considering how much to tell me. I look at him, narrow eyed, because if he won’t answer me honestly, I’m going to be pissed. We made a deal. In fact, the whole thing was Sullivan’s idea!
At last, he sighs. “Reese was giving me shit because he’s worried about you.”
Warmth spreads in my chest. I always liked Reese—more than Sullivan, actually, though of course I feel differently about that now that I’ve become better acquainted with Sully’s best traits. But I appreciate that Reese is looking out for me.
Though really, the expression on Sullivan’s face might be just as responsible for the warm and wobbly feeling I’m experiencing. He looks so concerned, it’s kind of adorable.