I breathed in and out slowly and tried to stop trembling. I could feel his eyes burning holes in me, searing my skin, my muscles, charring my bones. He was making a tremendous effort to keep his cool. He always had to when he was with me. I wondered what would happen if one day he couldn’t, if his rage just kept growing and growing. I suppose the whole world would explode.
I would disappear.
And he’d be happy.
He looked at Dustin as if he’d just noticed his presence. Then he focused on me again and slowly, the color drained from his face.
“Grow up, Harper. Forget literature, editing, writing your little stories, and the rest of that junk. Come home, sell the bookstore, and know your role. You’re a Weston! Do you understand what that means? The responsibility you have to this family, to me, to your brother and sister? Jesus, stop being such a baby.”
Why did that word always sound so humiliating coming from him? He was the very embodiment of contempt.
“I’m not a baby.”
“Dad, that’s enough.” My brother appeared behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. I hadn’t realized he was there until I heard his soft voice.
“Hoyt, don’t tell me…”
My brother came around between us, and I took shelter behind his back. That’s what Hoyt meant to me: safety. He was the closest thing I had to a real father figure, even if he was only four years older than me.
“Dad, Hayley and Scott are about to leave, and they’re waiting for you to see them off. That’s what matters tonight.”
For a few long seconds, Dad said nothing. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. “Try to get your sister to listen to reason. Mypatience is running out with her. Either she does her duty, or she can forget about this family.”
He turned around and walked toward the house. Briefly, the tension he’d brought to the atmosphere lingered behind him, and it felt cold and humid. Or maybe the night really was that way because of the air rising off the lake. But I’ve always been imaginative and dramatic. No one’s ever called mesimple.
“Harper, your dad’s right—” Dustin started to say.
Hoyt turned to him. “Shut your mouth if you don’t want me to shut it for you.”
“I’m just worried about her. She’s my—”
My brother grabbed his lapels and narrowed his eyes. His mouth was a thin, tense line. He’d never liked Dustin, and he’d have no problem showing that now.
“Let’s see if you can understand me, blockhead. She’s nothing to you. Now scram.”
Dustin hurried away, glancing back several times over his shoulder. His wounded ego was evident in his eyes.
Hoyt turned to me. I smiled, shyly at first, as though wanting to saysorry, and then without regrets.
“Blockhead?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t want to swear. In my head I was calling him a piece of shit and telling him I’d tear him to bits.”
“Now that’s more like it,” I replied.
He reached a hand and cupped my cheek, looking worried. “You okay?”
I shrugged. No, I wasn’t. I was the furthest thing from okay. The week before, all kinds of things had happened I’d have preferred to forget. The straight line of my path, my everyday life, the future I had told myself lay before me, was now full of potholes. I couldn’t see it clearly. All I saw were shadows that told me where the road once lay,the way traces of letters remain on a chalkboard after you’ve erased it. And there I was, lost in a pile of chalk dust.
Hoyt tried to smooth out the wrinkles between my eyes.
“You know Dad … He’s just Dad. You don’t have to pay attention to him if you don’t want. You need to make your own decisions.”
“It’s easy to say that when you’re not the one who’s always disappointing him.”
“I’ve disappointed him lots of times.”
“That’s not true,” I moaned. I felt like a loser. I almost always did, and yet I had no idea what I was doing wrong. “He’s always loved you. You and Hayley. But me… I–I mean, who am I even?”
