“It’s okay. I learned to stay out of his way, for the most part. And especially when he’d been drinking. Thankfully, the Wells family was always there when I needed to get away.”
“Is that why you came back here instead of staying in the city?”
Driven out of town when I was fifteen—after my dad started one too many fights, stole one too many items, and pissed off one too many people—we moved to a shitty two-bedroom apartment in the city.
Though she can’t see me, I’m sure she can feel my nod. “My dad struggled to find and keep jobs—turns out, construction sites are slightly more strict about drinking on the job than cattle ranches. We barely scraped by, which made things at home significantly worse, if you can believe that. As soon as I could, I called Grandpa Wells to ask for a job. Coming back to all the terrible memories was hard, but not coming back would’ve been harder. If he would’ve said no, I don’t know where I’d be today—sure as shit wouldn’t be in Vancouver. Only deranged people prefer to live somewhere where you can’t see the stars, smell clean air, or jump on a horse and ride for hours without seeing a soul.”
She sits up straight, keeping her hands on me. Her painted pink nails run up and down my forearm, igniting my skin like a grass fire that spreads quickly up my arm and explodes in my chest. “I always thought I’d end up in the city.”
“Really?” I choke out the question—a piss poor attempt at masking my concern that she might pack up our baby and leave Wells Canyon. “I have a hard time picturing you anywhere but here.”
“Well, don’t waste your time trying to imagine it because I’m stuck here now.”
“You’re not stuck… If you want to move to a city, you can expect me to put up a fight. Anywhere else, I’ll come with you.”
“You’ll come with me, eh? Did you seriously just invite yourself to move in with me again? Starting to worry I’ll come home one day and all your stuff will be here.” Her cheeky smile’s illuminated by the cool glow of the paused television in an otherwise dark room. It sparkles in her eyes and highlights the deeply grooved cupid’s bow above her upper lip.
“We don’t have to live together, but I told you I won’t be the dad who’s never around except for holidays. Living hours away from my kid isn’t an option.”
“I seriously doubt I’d ever choose to move, anyway. I always said I wanted to, but I’ve never been able to find a good enough reason to leave. No dreams big or worthy enough to justify leaving my dad here alone.” She lets go of my arm, and I feel the loss of her touch all the way down to the marrow in my bones.
“You were easily the smartest kid in our school. I always assumed you’d be a doctor, lawyer, scientist, or something.”
She halfheartedly laughs. “I wish that were the case. But I never found mything, y’know?”
“Maybe your thing is having a disturbing amount of knowledge about reality television.”
“Too bad I can’t figure out a way for that to pay my bills instead of gossiping about it with Blair every week. I’d be living the dream.” She lounges back, farther away from me than I like. But we’re friends.Just friends. That’s why she comforted me when she felt I needed it and why she’s moved back to her end of the couch now that the moment is over. “For what it’s worth, I’m not worried about you being like your dad.”
“No?”
“I know you’re quick to solve problems with your fists when it’s another guy involved. A few months ago, I may have been a tiny bit concerned. But since I’ve gotten to know you better, no shot. You’re like… well, you’re somewhat of a growly farm dog.”
I recoil. “The fuck?”
She flaps her hand in my direction, silently telling me to calm down because she’s laughing too hard to get words out. “Relax.I only mean you won’t hesitate to fuck somebody up if they mess with the people you care about, but you wouldn’t dream of hurting the people you love.”
“And you figure you’re one of those people?”
She absolutely is. Tops the list, honestly.
She pulls a face. “I’d fucking hope so, considering I’m carrying your child.”
“Okay, okay. You’re right. I guess I’ll pretend being compared to an old farm dog is a compliment.”
“Hey, you’re the one who added ‘old’, not me.” Her foot taps on the couch as we sit silently for a moment. “Nobody knows this, but I have secret accounts online, so I can keep tabs on my mom.”
“Yeah? Why?”
She shrugs, chewing the inside of her cheek like bubble gum. “I guess to see if she’s happier… without me.”
“She’s not.”
“Mmmm, agree to disagree. She seems pretty happy travelling around in a camper van with a boyfriend closer to our age than hers.”
“Everybody seems happy online. I bet she misses you. I can’t see how anybody who’s ever had the privilege of knowing you wouldn’t miss you.”
Hell, a few days without her was physically painful. I can’t imagine years.
