I hadn’t been hugged by my father in years. It made me uncomfortable, and I stiffened. I wished again that we were doing this away from the prying eyes of the neighborhood.
I patted his head, feeling the grease that had collected in his hair. “It’s going to be fine,” I told him. “She’s got to be somewhere. We’ll find her.” The words fell flat, unconvincing.
My father wiped at his eyes and reached out to stroke my face. “It sure is good to see you, Rosie. It’s been a while.”
“I know, Dad.” It made me feel a little guilty, that we’d grown apart. But he never left this place, thistomb.No matter how many times I begged and pleaded him to move. He wanted to be here. And I didn’t.
“Rose!”
TheRdragged out in her signature drawl. Somehow my mother always sounded louder than the average person, her Southern accent cutting through the air like a knife. It was charming when she was trying to woo; vicious when she felt scorned.
She approached me, her face scrunched up in anger. My father let out a deep sigh that rattled his chest, already sensing a need to intervene.
“Now, Lyla—” he started, his voice soft and scratchy from the crying. She ignored him.
“I never thought I’d see you step into this house willingly again,” she said.
“This isn’t willingly,” I reminded her, aware of how snarky it sounded. I took a moment to look her over. My mother had also gotten older. I’d seenFacebook photos: her in a white sundress posing in front of Tampa Bay; her triumphant in front of a massive house with a Sold sign. But those apparently edited photos didn’t show the wrinkles around her eyes, the dullness of the hair that had been California Blonde my entire childhood. Her lips were bigger now. Injections, I was sure, to counteract these other signs of ageing.
“I called you twice today and you sent them both to voicemail,” she accused coldly. “Do you have any idea how inconsiderate that is?”
“She was on a plane, Mom,” Tommy interjected.
“Don’t make excuses for her. You always do that. She’s a grown woman who knows exactly what she’s doing.” My mother waited for my response, shooting me a penetrating look, and I felt something rev up inside me. My mommy issues ran deeper than I cared to admit. I could sense the resentment bubbling, threatening to explode.
“Don’t you have other daughters to bother?” I asked her, sneering. “Surely they come running every time Mommie Dearest calls.”
My mother’s lip twitched. “Watch your mouth.”
“Lyla.” My father’s voice was a hiss, measured but angry. “This is not the time.”
“WhereareMegan and Mallory?” I asked her, turning to look around for my half sisters, my nails digging into the leather strap on my shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve brought your favorites along.”
That made a vein in her neck throb. “What’s wrong with you?”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. My childhood mannerisms were creeping back with every minute I stood in this house. I was only a few minutes away from slamming a door and shouting,I hate you!
The twins were the product of an affair. My mother had somehow, accidentally, gotten pregnant at forty-four years old, while still married to myfather. In fairness, their marriage had already been on life support by the time she’d met Steve, but still, it was the final nail in their coffin.
The thin silver bracelets on my mother’s arm clattered obnoxiously as she tossed her hands into the air. “You haven’t changed one bit. Still just as selfish as ever.” She scowled. “What kind of person doesn’t answer their mother’s calls when their sister is missing?”
My upper lip twitched. “What kind of person ignores theirson’scalls?” I pressed, feeling myself grow more upset. “What kind ofmotherdoes that?If we’re going to start throwing around the morality card, Mom, let’s make sure we do it properly.”
My mother’s lip began to curl.
“All right, you know what? I think this is enough.” I felt my father push me gently toward the hallway, shielding my body from my mother’s. “Tommy, bring Rosie’s stuff to her room. Lyla, go find your husband.”
I watched my mother recoil at the wordhusband. I supposed she’d probably never heard it come from my father before. It sounded like a slur in his mouth. She brushed her bangs out of her eyes and took a deep breath, steadying herself before she turned and headed deeper into the room. I could see Steve now by the back door, wearing aBack the BlueT-shirt, talking animatedly to an officer.
“What the actual fuck is he wearing?” I hissed.
“I guess he wanted to stick to the theme of the day,” Tommy said.
I rolled my eyes. “Doesn’t he know that sucking the police department’s dick isn’t going to find Hazel any faster?”
My father grimaced at my language, reminding me that I was in the presence of a parent. It had been a long time since I’d had to worry about that.
“Give me these.” Tommy reached for my bags, pulling them off my shoulder before disappearing down the unlit hallway toward my old room. I wantedto follow him, escape this scene, but my dad fastened his hand around the top of my arm.
