I smile, wide. Tell him with my eyes,better luck next time.
Uncle Nick and Kristen weren’t from here, they’re rooted in LA, a three-hour drive from Devil’s Peak. The last time we had seen them was a little over six months ago, when we met Kristen, so pleasantries still meant something.
Well, to my father anyway.
Me and Kristen, we were well past pleasantries.
While my father and uncle spent the night lulling themselves with liquor in the back shed, I spent the same one balls deep in my uncle’s girl.
“My gosh, Heather, that smells amazing,” Kristen groans, stepping around our father and reaching for our mother, pulling her in for a hug.
And Mom accepts it, though she looks hesitant. She wasn’t used to gentleness; she was used to anger, aggression, and violence.
Kristen’s long dark hair waterfalls over our mother’s bony shoulders, the caramel highlights catching in the spear of light that filters through the kitchen window. She is twenty-one-years old, which makes her eleven years younger than my uncle, and apart from her whiny, too-high voice, she is supermodel hot. I just had no plans to dip twice.
Uncle Nick claps his older brother’s back, though the greeting doesn’t deter my father from the daggers he’s determined to throw at me.
“Didn’t know you were coming into town,” my father says to his brother, however his brown eyes stay levelled with mine.
I’m still grinning.
Nick scratches through the dark, short, and well-trimmed stubble at his chin.
“Yeah, bit spontaneous. Big week at work, wanted to get away for a night,” he tells him, flicking his gaze between me, his nephew, and my father, his belligerent brother, no doubt feeling out the thick air hovering between us.
I drag the back of my hand over my mouth, wiping away crumbs.
I didn’t know what Nick did for work, didn’t care much to ask either, I just knew he was important, smart even, and he wasn’t scratching for money like us.
I return my eyes to my father, screech the chair backward, balancing the small plate in the palm of my hand and shoveling another spoonful of pie. I chew, counting to ten before tearing them away, smirk still on my face, moving toward the back door that opens to our small backyard. I make sure to snag Mom’s packet of half empty cigarettes that sit at the edge of the counter on the way.
“Gonna head back early tomorrow morning, though. Kristen’s got a bridal party she’s booked to do hair and makeup for.” I listen to Nick talk as I step through the door, closing it behind me.
Jade’s voice filters through the open window as she chats with Kristen and our mother, and I slump down, taking a seat on the back cinder block steps. I’m close enough to listen, yet enough distance away to let go of the breath I didn’t want my father to know I’d been holding. Placing the now empty plate beside me with a clunk, I light up a cigarette, attempting to tame the rage that numbs me from the inside out.
The clouds above are dusty and gray, shadowing away the sun, yet the air remains sticky, thick, and suffocating.
I take a deep hit, relishing the swirl of nicotine when the back door creaks behind me.
I don’t turn to see who it might be, keeping my eyes focused on the splintered shed in the back corner of the dead and neglected yard.
My mind tunnels to a day that will forever haunt me, hearing the memory of words I’d never wanted to speak:“I need you to climb out the window and go to the shed, then I need you to count to five-thousand and if I’m not back by the time you reach it, go next door, okay?”
I squeeze my eyes closed, forcing the memory back into the cellar of my haunted and poisoned mind. But hatred rises, fury prevails.
I hated my father.
I hated him more than I knew it was possible to hate another human being.
A large palm grips the top of my shoulder, and I know it’s not his. Because I’d know the calloused, clammy palm of my father’s hand even if I somehow found a way to eradicate the nightmares.
He always slapped before he punched.
It’s the way he beat her, and it was the way he had beaten me.
“That shit’ll kill ya, you know.” Uncle Nick scoffs, taking a seat beside me, nudging my elbow.
I let silence hang.
