Yeah…the weather.
It was the most stilted conversation I’ve ever been forced to participate in. After a while I started babbling about the importance of staying hydrated. Daisy cut me off saying that she had to meet up with Olivia and ran out of the apartment like her ass was on fire. She couldn’t flee fast enough. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a female try to escape my company so quickly. Daisy is the first.
Not exactly great for the ego.
I don’t know what’s worse. Awkward interactions like that or us sniping back and forth. I hate to admit it, but I kind of enjoy our verbal skirmishes. Daisy has a sharp tongue and a wry sense of humor.
With Daisy occupying my brain, Noah and I walk out of the locker room toward the parking lot near the stadium where practice is held.
Noah claps me on the shoulder and slips behind the wheel of his Jeep Wrangler. “If you need me, just call. Okay?”
I nod, even though I have no intention of doing anything of the sort. I don’t want anyone else witnessing my family at their worst. It only deepens the humiliation.
With those thoughts whirling through my head, I slide onto the leather seat of my Mustang and start the engine. The deep purr it makes as it roars to life is music to my ears, but it’s not enough to turn the tide of my darkening mood.
I always feel shitty when I head home.
When I was a kid, I clung to the notion that everything would improve once I escaped the house. But that hasn’t turned out to be the case. There are times when I have to remind myself that I’m not the scrawny eleven-year-old boy I used to be.
The drive home takes about forty-five minutes. Every mile of pavement the tires eat up makes my nerves stretch ever tauter. By the time I roll up to the guard shack and get waved through by a man in uniform, an uncomfortable pit sits in the bottom of my gut.
The gated community my parents reside in is affluent, with sprawling, well-manicured lawns. My parents’ massive brick-and-stone mansion is situated on two acres of land and is larger than the ones surrounding it because my father is the developer who built this subdivision of monstrosities.
With any luck, Dad won’t be home yet. He works at least sixty hours a week, so it’s entirely plausible that he’s still at a job site. If that’s the case, I can slip in before he’s made aware of my presence. Dad might not be home, but there are security cameras everywhere on the property, so he’ll know the moment I pull into the driveway.
I park in front of the house and jog up the stairs. I don’t bother ringing the bell and just slip inside. The door closes and silence echoes throughout the first floor. It’s as quiet as a tomb, reminding me there was never much laughter or joy while growing up in this house.
Nothing has changed in that regard.
I find Mom in the kitchen preparing dinner.
Her face lights up with pleasure the moment she sees me. “Carter! You didn’t mention that you would be stopping by.”
She comes around the massive marble island and wraps her slender arms around me, squeezing like she’ll never let go. I press her tightly against me. We’re like two survivors clinging to one another during a storm. Even though neither of us acknowledge it, we both know why I don’t give advanced warning as to when I’m going to visit.
“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision,” I say, just like I always do. “Thought I’d see how you were doing.”
As much as I hate coming here, I like to see for myself that she’s okay. It’s the reason I stayed close by for college.
“I’m good.” She smiles brightly.
Sometimes I marvel at how she does it. How she manages to act like there’s nothing wrong, as if her life is perfect. It’s mind boggling.
As we separate from one another, my gaze rakes over her. Mom looks like she’s dropped a few more pounds since I last saw her. She stands a few inches above five feet and has always been on the petite side. But now she looks frail. Delicate. Her dark hair is pulled back into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. Her makeup is flawless. She’s wearing a summery dress with short sleeves, and her feet are bare. Even though she looks like she could walk out the door any moment, I know she’s not going anywhere. Dad expects her to look and dress a certain way. Even when she’s at home.
I gnash my teeth together.
Dad’s a total control freak. He always has been.
I’ve escaped. Sort of. Even though I’ve encouraged Mom to leave, I doubt she ever will. I don’t know how she deals with his constant bullshit. By the time I walked out the door at eighteen, I promised myself that I would never go back. And other than to check on my mother, I haven’t.
Her bottle green eyes settle on me as she continues prepping the steaks on the counter. “Would you like to join us for dinner?” she asks with a hopeful note in her voice even though she knows it’s a bad idea.
I shake my head. “Sorry, I can’t. I just finished up with practice and have a paper due at the end of the week.”
It’s not a lie. Itisdue on Friday, but it’s practically finished. I just need to add the bibliography.
Disappointment flashes in her eyes.
