"Sixty grand."
As my mom cries into her tissue, I don't react. I must be in shock, or maybe I can't believe that I've heard her properly.
"Dad gambled sixty grand?"
She nods.
"How the fuck did he get his hands on sixty grand?"
"Apparently, he borrowed it from one of his gambling friends."
I stand up, and she doesn't stop me. Her eyes are tired.She'stired, just like me.
My dad is outside shifting manure, with Florrie watching him from a distance. The first milking of the day has been complete, so the rest of the herd is out in the pasture enjoying the nice weather and the green grass. I wish I could say the same for myself.
"Dad," I call.
He straightens up, sticking the pitchfork on the pile and rubbing his wrist.
"If you're coming to tell me what your momma said, you can turn back around. I heard it already."
"No, Dad, you haven't, because if you had, you wouldn't do something so stupid as gambling sixty fucking grand that isn't yours."
His face drops.
"Yes, Mom told me how much. And you know why? Because I've been doing your job since I was nineteen fucking years old. Mom and I are a team. We've had to become one to save our home and our family from your addiction. We've run the house and the business so we could put food on the table and keep a roof over our heads."
I try to keep my voice steady and avoid raising it, but it's damn hard. My dad is sick, and I have to remember that, but it doesn't mean he can't hear the truth. He needs to hear the consequences.
"Do you know how much I've given up for this place? I dropped out of college to work a job I never wanted to work. I've been stuck here all my life, waiting for the moment I can be free to live the way I want. Do you know how that feels?"
"Maybe if I had some control over this place, I wouldn't feel as if I'm being treated like a kid in my own home."
I laugh. "Dad, this place hasn't been yours since you gambled it away the first time. The bank loan that paid for your debt was in my name and the land has been in trust for Miles since he was sixteen to stop you from gambling away his future."
He stares at me.
"Dad. When are the excuses going to end? When are you going to have a good hard look at yourself and seek treatment? Why didn't you go see your therapist when you started having cravings again? Why didn't you say something? We're here to help and support you because, for some mysterious reason, we all love you. But right now, I can't be around you because you're the man who made my mom cry and has taken away the only thing I ever wanted."
I walk away from him and go back to the house.
My mom is still in the same spot as I left her. Still crying.
"Hey, Ma." I run my hand over her head, and she pulls me closer.
"I'm so sorry, baby. You shouldn't have to deal with this, any of this. I feel like we failed you so much."
"Hey, hey, none of that. Look at me, I'm smartandgood-looking. That's all down to you. Besides, this isn't our first rodeo, right? We'll make it work."
She nods.
"I'll be back tomorrow, bright and early. Give Dad some space. I've given him a lot to think about."
"Don't worry about that. He's sleeping in the guest bedroom with the small couch. Maybe when his back hurts in the morning, he'll think twice about what he's done. That'll be a reminder of where he'll sleep for the rest of his days if he doesn't fix himself."
"That's my momma."
I give her a kiss and leave.
