Chapter 20
CHARLIE
I didn’t see Troy at the party again. Not that I was looking. Yeah, right .
We didn’t stay long. No surprise there, considering Mom’s mood.
On the way back to my parents’, I wonder why Mom wanted Ben and me to come.
To put on a show? I just know this is the first and last time I agree to a company family event.
I’m in college, for crying out loud. There should be a rule that exempts me from bore-fest gatherings like those.
All I know is I can’t wait to go back home and try to get rid of the blue dye.
I also want to speak with Troy. Jane’s comment that her brother isn’t mean made me second-guess myself.
If I intend to keep sharing a roof with him, I should give him the benefit of the doubt at least. The other times he retaliated, he didn’t hide. Why would he lie about this one?
I’m surprised that when we arrive, my dad’s car is in the garage.
Maybe he didn’t really have to work; he simply didn’t feel like going to the party.
I can tell by Mom’s face that she’s gearing up for another major fight.
I have to get Ben out of the house. Maybe he can stay over.
But I erase that idea right away. I don’t want Ben around when I have my talk with Troy, and I certainly don’t want to avoid that conversation. Crap .
Mom is pulling into the driveway when Dad bursts through the garage door, holding Bailey in his arms. Something is wrong.
Mom presses on the brakes, and a second later, I’m out of the car.
“Dad! What happened?”
“Bailey is unresponsive. We need to get her to the vet immediately.”
Mom lowers her window and shouts, “Get in here!”
Dad slides into the back seat, and I get back in the front. I’m not even done putting my seat belt on when Mom puts the car in Reverse and burns rubber. All our problems become irrelevant. Bailey is our girl; we can’t let her die.
There’s a huge lump in my throat, and my eyes are beginning to burn. I turn in my seat to look at her.
“What happened?” I ask through a choke.
“I don’t know. I came home and found her passed out in the kitchen next to a vomit puddle.”
“She hasn’t been herself since yesterday. We should have taken her to the vet, damn it!” Mom hits the steering wheel hard, right before she takes a sharp curve without slowing down.
I don’t comment that they probably would have done that if they hadn’t been busy fighting. But it’s a petty remark and it would help no one. I can guess they must have come to the same conclusion because neither of them speaks again.
We arrive at the vet in five minutes—a drive that usually takes ten.
Dad jumps out of the car and takes off to the entrance with me close on his heels.
The vet’s assistant immediately tells Dad to bring Bailey to the examination room but forbids the rest of us from going after him.
Dejected, I sit in the waiting room with Ben while Mom fills out the forms.
Ben rests his head on my shoulder, and with a tearful voice, he asks, “Do you think Bailey will be okay?”
The “Yes” gets stuck in my throat. I can’t bring myself to lie to him. Bailey is old, and even if the vet is able to treat her today, it’s only a matter of time before she leaves us forever.
“I don’t know, Ben. We should prepare for the worst.” Fat tears roll down my cheeks. I wipe them away with the back of my blue hand. My fight with Troy becomes small, unimportant in the grand scheme of things.
“I don’t want Bailey to die,” Ben whines right before his body starts to shake.
I lace my hand with his. “I don’t want to lose her either.”
The wait is torturous but not long. Fifteen minutes later, Dad joins us in the waiting room. His slumped shoulders and teary eyes say it all.
“Dad?” I jump to my feet.
He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, honey. Our girl is gone. There was nothing Dr. Harper could have done.”
Mom stands too and gives Dad a hug. Ben breaks into an ugly cry, so for his sake, I keep my tears at bay, even though I was crying before.
There’s a big hole in my chest now. I don’t want to think what it’ll be like to walk into my parents’ house and not see that golden fur ball run to greet me.
Bailey was a staple of my childhood. There are so many wonderful memories, it’s impossible to count them all.
We wait a bit longer for Dad to fill out more paperwork.
When we finally get back to the house, Mom wants me to spend the night.
But I can’t face the house knowing Bailey won’t be there.
I have to get out of here. It’s selfish of me when I think of Ben, but at the same time, that’s what my parents are for.
Maybe what happened will finally force them to make up.
“I can’t stay. I have to study for a test tomorrow,” I lie.
“How can you think about tests when Bailey is dead?” Ben cries out.
I open my mouth to defend myself, even though I’m not being truthful, but Dad speaks first, “We all deal with grief differently, buddy. Your sister’s way is losing herself in books.”
His defense feels backhanded, but I won’t complain. He’s giving me a free pass.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Please drive safely, Charlie,” Mom says.
“I will.”
Despite my promise, I barely notice the road on the way back to my house.
Everything is a blur. I thought that by putting distance between myself and my parents’ house, the pain would diminish, but it works the other way around.
By the time I park in front of my place, the choke in my throat is so immense, it’s making it impossible to breathe.
With quick steps, I approach the front porch.
My hands are shaking as I try to unlock the door.
I veer for the kitchen in desperate need of something strong to alleviate my pain.
I search each cabinet for the bottle of tequila I saw the other day.
It isn’t mine, but considering what I’m going through, I don’t think Troy will mind.
I finally find it pushed all the way back behind some tortilla chips bags.
It’s almost empty, maybe one shot left in it.
I’m about to throw it back when Troy comes down the stairs.
His face is solemn when he says, “Charlie, we need to talk.”