Chapter 3
Chapter Three
DOTTIE
I sit on the floor of the shower after Arrie dropped the bombshell on me, and I hate I’m having this kind of response to it. That I fucking care, after the way they treated me my entire life, but I guess you can’t help loving the people who gave you life, even if they weren’t present.
Arrie said she doesn’t expect me to drop my life here, especially knowing my history with my parents, but she thought I should know.
I didn’t ask her any questions. My dad was a right fucking prick, especially with his drug and alcohol addiction. I try to push the bad memories away, but they are persistent little fuckers.
The hot water rains like pins on my too-sensitive skin. I don’t want to fucking care. But I do. Boy do I fucking care.
Releasing a leaden sigh, I force myself to stand and finish my shower. I quickly wash my hair and body and hop out. Grabbing the fluffy purple towel, I wrap it around my body and move into my room.
Arrie is sitting on my bed, waiting for me .
As soon as I walk in, her peridot green eyes find mine.
“Are you ok?”
“I’m fine.”
“Liar. Anyone who says they are fine, aren’t fine at all. It’s ok to be upset, Dottie. He is still your father.”
Dropping the towel and my modesty, I turn away and grab the tank and shorts off the back of the chair and dresser, and shimmy into them. I don’t make eye contact with her in the mirror, but I know she’s watching.
Waiting.
Huffing out a breath, I turn and face her.
“What do you want me to say, Arrie? My father is a dropkick. He and my mother made my life a living fucking hell, and even through all the clusterfuck, I still wanted them to see me, to fucking love me!” I end with a shout, my heart thumping rapidly in my chest.
Arrie pushes off the bed and moves toward me. I can see the pity and sadness in her green eyes. I see it, and I don’t want it, but when she wraps her arms around me and squeezes, I fall a-fucking-part.
Sobs wrench from deep within, so fucking deep that it steals my breath. I thought I’d beaten that little girl inside of me to a pulp and buried her in the process, but clearly, I hadn’t.
“I don’t ─ I don’t want to care.”
“Ssh, honey, I know, but you do, and that’s ok.”
She holds me for another few minutes, telling me everything is going to be ok. But it’s not. I swore I’d never return to the hellhole I grew up in, only offering phone calls on their birthdays since I left Barrenridge, yet here we are.
I’ll go back, like I always do.
Those damn memories resurface again, however, this time I don’t allow them to steer me down that rocky yellow brick road. I can smell the alcohol on his breath, even though he isn’t here, and I can see my mother crying in the corner as she screams at him.
They were toxic back then, and I don’t believe that will ever change. But they loved each other irrespective of all the bullshit, fights and pain in between. They walked that motherfucking tightrope of love and hate on shaky feet, but they never fell off.
At least not for each other.
For me it was a different story.
“What are you going to do, Dottie?”
Our eyes lock and I shrug my shoulders.
“What I always used to do before I escaped that shithole.”
“You’re going back?”
“I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.”
It took me an hour to get my bags packed into my 1979 dark green Corolla. I’ve had this car since I was sixteen, and although my girl is old and rough around the edges, she’s mine.
“When are you going to upgrade this fucking deathtrap?” Arrie grouses from the driver’s seat as she shifts between gears because she insisted on driving us home.
“Don’t you knock Betty, asshole. Don’t listen to her girl, she doesn’t mean it.”
“Yes, I fucking do.”
“I can always drive?”
Arrie groans. “So, my father called me the other day.”
Uncle Damon…
I force myself to pretend I’m not affected at the mere mention of him. I haven’t seen him since graduation, yet even still, he has this hold on me, and all he had to do was care for me like he did his own daughter all those years ago.
He adopted Arrie when she was two. We were joined at the hip growing up, and Uncle Damon always made sure to include me in their activities and outings, even after he broke up with my cheating aunt.
“Oh?” I ask, bringing myself back from my memories.
“Yeah.”
“Ok?”
“He’s been riding around Australia on his Harley. Remember?”
“Of course.”
I try to stay in the moment and not think of his thick tattooed thighs straddling that steel horse of his, but it’s fruitless. The man has aged like fine fucking whiskey.
“And you know he still has his garage.”
“Well, I assumed he did. But you haven’t spoken much about it.”
“He wants me to take over for him.”
“He’s not coming back?”
“You know as well as I do, that he hated that place. He only stayed because of my mother and me.”
Even though he didn’t have to.
As if reading my mind, Arrie says, “Even though I’m not biologically his, he confessed he didn’t want to leave me with that snake of a woman —his words.”
Images of my aunt surface and I feel my face scrunch up.
“Yeah, I feel that way about her as well.” Arrie laughs, clearly catching my reaction to her mother.
“So, are you going to take him up on it?” I counter.
“I have the restaurant to think of.”
“You do. But there is a but coming? ”
She’s silent for a few moments so I turn to face her.
“What?”
“I was hoping while you were in town you could help me hire some people and maybe do the office jizz in the process?”
“Are you serious?”
“What?” Dad won’t be there, and it will give you somewhere to crash while you’re in town, so you don’t have to stay with your parents or me.”
The second floor of the workshop was Uncle Damon’s. After he left my aunt, he made the second floor into a two-bedroom apartment for him and Arrie. The thought of being in his space unnerves and excites me in the same damn breath, but I’m hesitant. So fucking hesitant.
I have a life in Sydney, but I don’t want to be in that town any longer than needed.
It was never home, and we aren’t trees. We don’t have roots to keep us grounded in one damn place, however, it would be nice to be away from the hustle and bustle, and given I own the property outright because of my inheritance from my Nonna, I don’t need to worry about money either.
“I’ll pay you,” Arrie rushes, breaking me from my thoughts.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“What?”
“You are not paying me shit.”
“Dorothy May.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Well stop being a fucking hard ass. Dad won’t be there because he is travelling Australia, and I really fucking need your help. Plus, you can paint. It’s a no brainer.”
“What has my painting got to do with anything?” I side eye, seeing the grin take over her mouth.
“You are a smart, sexy and very talented young woman who can spruce the place up with said talent, and the mechanic shop is… well, a mechanic shop that screams single, greasy covered men with questionable hygiene etiquette. Dirty.”
Dirty.
Damon with his overalls tied around his waist and his white, grease covered tank top hugging his tight as fuck body sends shivers down my spine, as the image takes the forefront of my damn brain, short-circuiting the stupid thing.
Shaking the memory from my mind, I cross my arms over my ample chest and glare at Arrie from the passenger seat.
“That’s not fair, and you know it.”
“I know, but you love me.”
I glare at her even though she can’t see my face before turning toward the window to watch the world blur by.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.
“Not even a little bit.”
“Well?” she says, sounding hopeful.
“I’ll think about it.”