Chapter 4 #2
“Good. That’s good.” He’s worried about Freya and wants to be with her, but he and I both know that right now, the best thing he can do is to take care of himself and come back healthy—however he defines that. “How’s Jake?”
“I dunno,” I answer honestly. Jake seems to be separating himself from us more and more every day. I feel like I now have two siblings going through shit, and I can’t help either. Some big brother I am.
“I’ll talk to him when I’m back,” he promises.
I roll my eyes as if he can see me. “What, you’re planning on coming back now?”
“Jackass.” His laughter is a hint at the old Alex .
“I appreciate it, Alex.” A word from somebody who’s been dealing with trauma for years might help more than me throwing in my two hugely lacking cents here and there.
I hear muffled voices on the other end of the phone. “Okay, I gotta go. I’ll call you,” Alex tells me, sounding distracted.
“Yeah,” I reply, but he’s already hung up.
I try another bite of food, but it tastes like shit, so I give up on that and go grab a couple apples. At this rate, I’ll turn into a rabbit soon. A visit to Mom tomorrow it is.
I open the door, and the delicious smell of freshly cooked food welcomes me to my parents’ house. That’s how it always smells here: mouthwatering and homey. I wonder how Alicia manages to stay skinny with all this goodness in the house.
“Mom?” I yell, taking my jacket off.
“In here, honey,” my mom calls from the kitchen.
I find her beside the stove, as usual, cooking mountains of food that she’ll dole out to everyone we know. That’s why my father tends to eat everything he can put his hands on and fast—he knows whatever he doesn’t snatch will go to friends, neighbors, and the church.
“Whatcha making?” I ask, peeking at the sizzling pan from behind her.
“Oh, just meatloaf with veggies. Nothing fancy.” She’s being modest as usual. I try to stick my finger into the bowl of mashed potatoes on the table, and she smacks me with a wooden spatula—the one I got her as part of a fancy kitchen set, by the way. Life is unfair .
“Ouch, Mom! That hurt!” I nurse my poor, offended hand.
“You’ll survive,” Alicia chimes in, strolling into the kitchen.
As usual, she’s dressed in her baggy sweatpants and a sweatshirt three sizes too big for her.
My heart aches for my little sister. She used to be a girly girl, always happy and bubbly, wearing bright clothes meant to be noticed.
Now, she wears clothes meant to hide. Her long blonde hair is pulled into a low, messy bun, and a few strands frame her face—which looks like a feminine version of mine.
She has fewer freckles on her face—a clear indication that she hasn’t seen the light of day for too long.
She’s turning into a vampire—like in one of her books.
“I might not. Will you miss me then?” I reply, enveloping her in a bear hug.
She mumbles something, pulling away and tapping her chin as if pondering it.
“What did you say?” I ask with a devious smile, grabbing her again and squeezing harder.
“I said ‘maybe,’ but I’m not so sure anymore,” she jokes after she unwraps herself from my embrace. She pinches my biceps, and I pinch the tip of her nose. That’s what we always do, so I feel a little better, sensing she’s in a good mood today.
“Behave, children.” I’m thirty-one and still live by my mom’s rules when I’m in her house, and I’m not ashamed to admit that.
“Yes, mom!” we singsong, taking our usual seats at the breakfast table in the kitchen.
My parents’ kitchen is a work of art. I don’t know how much my dad spent on it, but it must have cost a fortune.
He loves my mother, though, so I’m sure it was a pleasure for him to make her happy.
My parents have been married for thirty-three years and still behave like teenagers, stealing kisses in hallways, smacking each other’s butts, and making all of us gag.
When I look at them, I know I’ll never have that, and I’ll never agree to anything less, so here I am—the forever bachelor of Little Hope.
I like to swim in a pool of choices, though, so I don’t complain.
And once our pool becomes too small or too boring, I take my truck and drive.
There is always a bigger lake out there.
“I’m guessing you could eat?” Mom asks me, barely containing her smile.
“I guess I could,” I reply with a grin, feigning nonchalance. I’m always hungry—always—and she knows that.
She fills my plate with steaming meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and salad before placing it in front of me. We all know it will be gone in a minute flat. What can I say? I’m a growing boy.
“So, how are you guys doing?” I ask when I’m finally full and can devote my focus to my family instead of my growling belly.
“Good,” Alicia murmurs, eating her food slowly while Mom throws a worried glance at her.
She’s become a person of few words, and it still surprises me how she manages to write long-ass books with the number of words she says aloud in everyday life.
I tried to read a book of hers once, but after seeing a few choice words—words you never want to see written by your little sister—I snapped it shut, saving myself from the trauma. Thanks, but no thanks.
“Well, your father is in Springfield, shopping for a new bed. We kind of broke the old one.” She blushes and giggles like a teenager while Alicia and I gag.
“Mom!” Alicia chokes out, adding under her breath, “God, I need out of this house….”
“Alright, you boring bunch,” Mom laughs, moving on to the next topic, thank fuck. “So, how are things at the shop, Justin?”
“Good, actually. I’m thinking of hiring another mechanic and maybe even a receptionist,” I reply, pouring myself another cup of tea.
“The business’s steady, we got a lot of customers from Springfield, and we have regulars like Mrs. Jenkins.
” I laugh while Alicia perks up and glances at me with interest. Weird .
“What’s up with her?” she asks with apparent nonchalance, picking at her food. “Mrs. Jenkins?”
“She gives us stability by bringing her beast almost every month.”
“Why? Is her car dangerous?” prods Mom worriedly.
“Her car isn’t, but the way she drives is.” I cringe.
“Oh, poor thing,” Mom says, bringing her hands to her chest. “She’s too old to drive. I expect her daughter will bring her to live in the city soon.”
“I’d say she needed to do that yesterday.
I love Mrs. Jenkins, I do, she’s an undeniable fixture of Little Hope with her dentures always falling out while she’s yelling at you, but she gets into accidents way too often.
” I shake my head in frustration. “I fix her car almost for free from time to time because I feel bad for the grumpy old lady; this time around, though, I’ll keep her car a little longer and maybe have a chat with her daughter after all.
She might not know how bad it’s gotten.”
“You do that.” Mom nods her head. “Something might happen with her on the road, God forbid.” She again presses her hands into her chest.
“When will you call her daughter?” Alicia stops chewing and asks.
“Why do you care?” I ask suspiciously.
“No reason,” she shrugs her shoulders, but I know better—my sister’s plotting something and has a little spark in her eyes that I haven’t seen in years. Whatever she’s plotting, I’ll support her. As long as I can see that sparkle again.
Guilt pierces my chest with renewed force—I’m the reason it disappeared in the first place. Me, a domino effect of actions, decisions, and their ultimate costs, and her .
“Hey,” Alicia says quietly, gently touching my hand.
I subtly take a deep breath and plant a casual smile on my face. “Sup, sis.”
“Where did you go?” she questions, holding my gaze.
“Been here the whole time.” I smile forcefully, trying to master the mask I try so hard to hide behind, so no one sees what I feel.
Though from the look on my sister’s face, pensive and dark, there might be one person who still can.
“Sup, y’all!” Jake bursts in, bringing a gust of cold wind along. When the fuck will this never-ending winter end? It’s been lingering far too long this year. “Oh damn, meatloaf! Can I have some?”
“You sure can, baby,” Mom says, causing Alicia and me to roll our eyes. Jake’s the baby of the family, and our mother sure does treat him like it; he fully supports her on it too—I’d say he’s a step or two away from letting her wipe his ass.
“See what I mean? I need out,” Alicia complains, and I give her a commiserating smile.
She’s been saying the same mantra about moving out for a long time, but I don’t think she can.
Besides that, I want her where we can see her.
Yes, I know she’s a grown woman, but after everything that happened, it’s hard to override the protective-brother instincts.
“What’re your plans for today, Jakey?” Alicia asks with a smirk, knowing he hates the nickname .
He throws a piece of bread at her and gets a smack on the back of his head from Mom, which makes me laugh. “Ken put me on the night shift today,” he tells us with his mouth full and gets smacked again, by Alicia this time—she hates open-mouth chewers. “I’ll be bored to death.”
Little Hope isn’t super eventful—besides Freya’s ex, we don’t have many troubles here. Jake got suspended after something I’m still not privy to happened a few weeks ago between him and Kenneth, the sheriff and Alex’s brother. He was restored to his post two weeks ago, and it’s been good for him.
“So, how do you spend your shift when you’re bored?” Alicia asks.
A devious smile spreads across his face. “Well, I like to torment certain citizens of our fine town.”
I clench my jaw.
“I don’t know why you don’t just leave her alone,” Alicia comments in a sour tone, leaning back on her chair. She knows who he’s talking about too. “She doesn’t have much good in her life. Didn’t you ever learn it’s shitty to kick somebody when they’re down?”