“Yeah. Says it brings him peace, being out there with nature and all. The first night he got eaten alive by mosquitos, so I bought him a net. But he says he’s comfortable. I guess that’s all that matters.”
Nonnie struggles to get out of the hammock. After a moment, Saylor stands up and helps her.
I turn away from the screen door. My stomach twists in uncomfortable knots. I can’t really explain why. Maybe it’s because I used to have the same comfort and familiarity with my dad and Grams as everyone here has with each other, and now I don’t have either. They support each other. Trust each other. It’s everythingIwant with my own dad, which makes step 2—learning how to come together as a two-person family without Grams—all the more important.
I start to head upstairs, but my father’s voice stops me.
“Listen, Goose.” He runs one hand over his dark stubble. “We haven’t had an opportunity to talk about things.”
I grab a strand of my hair between my fingers, but I don’t look at him. “I think things are pretty self-explanatory.”
His eyes widen. “You do?”
“You’re so disconnected from your old life. All of you. You don’t get that this isn’t the way the real world works.”
“Hey now, I don’t necessarily think that’s fair to say.”
I know I’m taking out my annoyances on him, but it’s as if I’m the only one who doesn’t think this entire situation is absurd. “Then why are they here? Because you’re overcompensating for your loneliness? You had Aunt June. You hadme.But you think you don’t have anyone but these people who understand what it’s like to feel the same way you did.”
The light is gone from his eyes. “Kira—”
“Now it’s like you’re all hiding out here. You’re not ready to let go of whatever bullshit positivity and rainbows they fed you at that ranch—”
“Kira.”He says my name with more authority now. “I know I’ve let you down in the past, but if I didn’t believe I was ready to be a responsible father figure for you, I wouldn’t be here.”
I stare down at my bare feet. I don’t understand why he couldn’t have been a responsible father in the first place. Everyone experiences grief, sadness, hurt. Nobody can expect life to give you a free pass when it comes to that.
“You have to realize that when adults make horrible decisions, the repercussions are a lot heavier.” He waves a hand to the backyard. “None of them have a support system right now. I’ve been blessed with a house that’s big enough to take care of all of us. It’s a temporary situation.”
“Temporary? Until when? Until you’re sent back after relapsing?”
My father sighs. He looks older, more tired than before. “I promise you that’s not going to happen. I know you don’t understand—”
“Of course I don’t understand!” My voice is a rising tide that swells and swells until it breaks. “I’m not like you.”
There’s a pause. He has nothing to say.
I leave. I go into the living room where I turn on a recorded episode ofCrime Bossand try and lose myself in the dramatic clangs of the theme song. A part of me almost expects him to come watch in silence, but he doesn’t. Instead he turns and goes back into his bedroom, the sack of peppermints sitting like a white flag on the counter.
When the episode ends, I get up and dump the entire bag into the trash.
TEN
I’M RIDING IN THE PASSENGERseat as Peach drives my car to the DMV on Saturday morning. My dad was called in to Cedarville Elementary to fix the faulty sprinkler system, so Peach volunteered to take me in his place. Considering how our conversation ended last night, it’s probably for the best.
I’m plugged into the music on my iPhone to avoid any type of small talk. I only agreed to go with Peach because I can’t stand not having my own car. If I get this over with, I’ll have my freedom back. Starting with booking it to Raegan’s as soon as we get home.
Peach pulls into a parking spot and turns off the engine. I yank off my headphones and get out before she has the chance to say anything.
“You must be so excited,” Peach says as she catches up to me. I don’t know how, considering she’s wearing strappy red heels paired with another one of her long Mary Poppins skirts.
“I am,” I tell her. Excited to finally come and go as I please.
Sharing the house hasn’t exactly been blissful. If I want to take a hot shower I have to wake up at six in the morning instead of my usual seven-thirty routine. Otherwise I’m stuck with cold water, thanks to Nonnie and Peach. Then I have to pretend I’m interested in my daily horoscope that Saylor insists on reading to me every morning when I really just want to eat my cereal in peace. I’m also almost positive that I have Queen’s greatest hits memorized thanks to Nonnie’s continual obsession with playing the CD at every given opportunity.
Excited might be a bit of an understatement.
The cool blast of air conditioning hits us as we enter the DMV. It smells like body odor and cleaning supplies. There are dozens of people sitting in the plastic chairs in the waiting area, but we have to wait in line for our ticket before we can join them.
