He was sort of a non-entity in my childhood compared to Ma. Most of my memories were of him passed out in his recliner, only speaking up to ask for a fresh beer. His lack of response or interference only made the attacks from my mother more difficult.
At times, I felt myself dissociate, as if I were stepping outside my body to stand by my father, who so easily dismissed the abuse happening behind him. He never lifted a hand except to raise the volume on the TV.
Looking at the shadows of the two people who still haunted me, I heard sounds from the front room. I reached my hand under the bed and grabbed the baseball bat I kept there before pulling myself upright and creeping out of the bedroom. It sounded like someone was using a key to let themselves into my apartment.
I took a step to the side, hiding in the shadows as I watched the door. I didn’t think a burglar would use a key, so I was starting to suspect that the other Williams sibling had helped themselves to a copy when my new door was installed. As the deadbolt turned, I lifted the bat up in case I was wrong, or if the still-latched chain didn’t stop the door.
The knob turned, and the door was pushed open with such force that I was momentarily afraid the chain would snap. Underthe light in the hallway, Bash’s large form became clear. I kept the bat up, my heart racing as the alarm switched to anger. I took a breath to steady my voice and stepped into view.
“Can I help you?” I asked, an eerie calm overtaking me.
“Fee, baby. It’s just me. Can you put the bat down and let me in?” He sounded relieved, and I could tell he was anxious to get to me.
“I know it’s you. I didn’t invite you over, and I didn’t give you those keys, so I’ll ask again. Can I help you?” I didn’t make a move to open the door or disengage the chain.
“Fiona, I know you’re upset, but we need to talk about this. You can’t just lock me out.” I eyed the chain barring his entry.
“Actually, I can. I don’t know what there is to talk about. Seems like you could just ask Keys if you needed to know something. Would have saved you the trip over.” I kept the bat up, looking for a reason to use it at that point.
“Fee. let me in. I’m not having this conversation through a crack in the door.”
“Poor planning on your part. You had the door installed and made a copy of the keys. Seems like you could have figured out a way to avoid this situation.” I waved the bat, indicating the chain still barring his entry.
“Fiona. I’m not going to say it again. Open this door so we can talk.”
“If I throw a stick, will you leave?” I replied casually, trying to keep my tone even.
My breakdown was imminent, and I needed him gone. He sighed and dropped his head before stepping back into the hallway as if ready to leave. I dropped the bat to the floor, confused that he would give up so easily. Before the door could fully close behind him, a loudbangrang out.
I watched in shock as Bash kicked my door in, causing it to swing forward, breaking through the flimsy chain and nearlyripping the entire door off the hinges in the process. He stepped into the apartment, forcing the damaged door back into the place before quickly closing the distance between us.
“I’ll get you a new door, but none of this shutting me out shit. We talk, we work it out, we do it together. Now, I’m sure you’ve been chewing on some shit you want to say, so take the floor, darlin’.”
“You had no right!” I sputtered, my heart racing as adrenaline ran through me.
“No right to do what? Use your words, sweetheart,” he said, annoying me with his calm demeanor.
“All of it! The keys, kicking down the door, the background check. You could have asked me!”
“Could I have?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow. Rage ran through me as I blurted out an answer.
“Yes! If there’s something you want to know about me, ask me! Don’t have one of your club Brothers put together a list of shit for you and Charlie to play Mad Libs with! There are things in there you never needed to know. Just like there are things that aren’t in there that absolutely should be. You would know that if you had just ASKED me instead!” I was yelling, my chest heaving as my arms waved around aggressively.
“Without that file, if Charlie hadn’t asked Keys to look into them, would you be able to tell me where your parents are now? Right this moment?” Bash asked, leaning against the back of the couch, calm as ever.
“What? What does that have to do with anything?” I asked, annoyed by the diversion.
“Because that’s why we have the file. That’s the question we needed answers to. That’s the question we couldn’t ask you because you did the right thing years ago by cutting them out and leaving them in the dust.
“You got rid of that poison, created a life free of it, but boundaries and knowledge are different things. You want to keep them away. That means preparing for them to come back—the one thing you absolutely avoid thinking about.” I preened at the praise before switching back to a scowl, annoyed that he was right.
I hated thinking about my parents. Fear, cold and clammy, swam through me at the mere idea of them. There was a degree of peace, knowing they had never left that doublewide. It appeared they were stuck, the chase for their next high never taking them more than a mile from their orbit.
Suspended in the hell they built for themselves, they had devolved into pathetic creatures. Nothing more than dogs chasing their tails. I felt like I was losing ground, that Bash was deflecting and ignoring how he had invaded my privacy. I hated that he wasn’t reacting, that he was acting so reasonable.
I ran back to the bedroom, grabbing the file before dropping it on the coffee table unceremoniously. Digging through the piles, I grabbed the photo of my mother that I had been studying so extensively before he broke down my door.
“What about this?” I asked, holding the photo up next to my face, so he could see the resemblance that remained despite her physical decline. Bash leaned forward, as if studying the photo seriously. He made atskingsound before leaning back.
