Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Stop talking about me like I’m not a goddamned adult.” The man in question comes into the room.
“I’m not talking about you like you’re not an adult. I’m talking to Morgan like he’s not one. I made you a plate.” Rhett takes it from the microwave and starts putting together soft tacos for him.
“I can do that myself,” Dad snaps. Rhett shakes his head and steps away.
“If Rhett hadn’t started to do that, you would have expected him to do it. But because he did, you have to find something to complain about,” I accuse. I know I’m right.
“Christ, Morgan. Don’t start,” Rhett says as if I wasn’t defending him.
“If I’m such a bad father, why are you here? We’ve been fine without you for ten years. We don’t need you now.”
The thing about him is, he wants what he doesn’t have. Rhett has always sucked up to him, so Dad would sometimes ignore him in favor of me, trying to get me to be more like Rhett, putting more pressure on me. If I’d been like Rhett, he would have moved on to Easton, or hell, maybe just given less of a shit about both of us. But he also can’t ever look like he cares or needs something. That’s likely why he asked Rhett to get me home but now pretends he doesn’t care if I’m here or not.
With a sigh, I lean my ass against the counter. “I’m trying here, Dad.” Which is more than he ever did. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
He takes his plate and limps to the table. “My damn family to be together and functioning. Is that too much to ask? No one else has to deal with the shit I do from my kids. Sit down. I want my kids to have dinner with me.”
Rhett starts making a plate, and I watch the two of them. I’m trying to figure out why they don’t seem to realize that not all Dad’s sons are here. “What about Easton? Shouldn’t we call him over?”
“Probably drunk or in jail.” Dad plops into a chair at the kitchen table.
“He’s not in jail,” Rhett says. “Officer Thorn calls me if that happens.”
“He’s an embarrassment is what he is. Your mother…it would break her heart to see him. All those tattoos. The trouble he gets into. She wanted nothing more than to bring him into the world, and this is how he repays her.”
“Hey. Don’t say that,” I warn in unison with Rhett’s, “That’s not fair, Dad.” Well, there’s one thing we agree on. At least Rhett has Easton’s back.
The truth is, Dad never got close to East. To an extent, maybe, before Ella died, but he always babied her in ways he didn’t East because she was Mom’s girl. Sometimes I feel like when she died, he started acting like we lost Easton too.
Maybe we did lose Easton that day.
“I’m going to see Easton.” I can’t sit at this table with the two of them right now.
“He won’t come,” Rhett says. “I’ve tried. We don’t ever spend time together the three of us.”
Something’s really wrong with our family. We’re broken in ways I don’t think can ever be repaired.
“I’m still gonna go. I can’t…”
“You think you can fix it better than me. That I just don’t care, so you’re gonna save the day like you always do,” Rhett nearly growls.
“Not everything has to do with you, big brother.”
“Sit down!” Dad shouts, right hand slamming against the table.
“No.” My fingers flex in frustration. “Have dinner. I haven’t seen East yet anyway. I’ll be back later.”
I don’t wait for the two of them to try and change my mind. I walk out of the room, grab my keys and phone, and leave.
Once in the car, it hits me that I don’t know where my own brother lives. How fucking sad is that? I get angry at Dad and Rhett for the things they do, but in the grand scheme of things, I’m not much better.
Even though I changed my number to one from California, I kept Dusty’s all this time. I’m hoping it’s the same, and shoot him a text.
Hey…can I get Easton’s address?
I could call or text my brother, but I’m not sure if he’ll answer right away.
It’s not until I get the reply from Dusty that I realize I still haven’t heard from Rob. It’s not unusual, but given the circumstances, it stands out more.
Dusty: Yeah. Thanks for going to see him. If he’s not home, he might be at Davies. He hangs there a lot.
Davies is a bar in town.
He gives me Easton’s address, and I consider the fact that East really does spend a lot of time at the bar.
I thank Dusty, and then I’m on my way. Easton’s small house, tucked into the trees on a rural road, looks like no one is home, but still I get out and knock. A dog barks from inside, but my brother doesn’t come to the door.