Chapter 2
Jake
I t’s one thing when Alice and I rag on each other over small stuff, but it’s different when someone else is getting on her case about things she can’t control. What does that even mean, someone like the Caulfield girl ?
“What do you have to say for yourself?” my dad asks.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes, attempting to have a mature conversation with him. “Come on. It was just Alice. She hurt her ankle last night and wasn’t up for going home. We tried Ms. Honey’s place first, but no one was there, so I brought her here. We stayed in separate rooms.”
My mom finds her voice, then she clicks her tongue. “She was walking around this house half-naked only moments ago, Jacob. Wearing your shirt. Her clothes were in your room. You’ll have to forgive our skepticism. In the future, I ask that you keep your conquests out of this home.” Disapproval radiates off of her, which is nothing new.
No matter what I do, according to these two, it’s always going to be the wrong thing. They think I’m incapable of making good decisions. The fact that I dropped out of college recently isn’t helping my case, but it was the same even when I was the captain of the basketball team or graduating at the top of my class. The good stuff was expected, never celebrated. The bad stuff, however, they are more than happy to point out. Some parents might be happy their son tried to help an injured friend, but not mine. Correction and criticism are their MO. I should be used to it by now.
“Consider your future, son. A girl like that will take advantage of your generosity. It might seem fun now, but one bad decision can mean you’re trapped.” That’s quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard come out of my dad’s mouth. My parents don’t know her like that.
Alice would chew off her own arm before she’d willingly attach herself to me. The woman hates me. I can’t pinpoint exactly when her animosity started, but I think it was toward the end of high school. We actually used to be tight, but not anymore. She didn’t even want me to buy her a damn soda. The idea that she’s trying to recruit me to be her sugar daddy is preposterous. I have to physically bite my tongue to keep myself from laughing in his face, and I can already taste a tinge of copper. I need to tread this line carefully though, because at least for now, I still live in their house.
“She doesn’t need a meal ticket. She has a job and a home.” I almost add it’s just not one she wanted to go back to last night , but I catch myself. My parents don’t need more ammunition. I don’t even know why I bother to protest, it’s not like Lousy and I will be sleeping in the same space ever again.
He scoffs. “That dilapidated eyesore with the overgrown weeds is not even her house. It’s her father’s. Women like her are always leeching off one man or another. Ask Earl, he’ll tell you himself. He never intended to become a father at that age.”
My fist clenches involuntarily, and I bite harder. It’s insane to imply a man had no responsibility in the creation of his own child. Plus, if they think Alice is a leech for still living with her dad, what do they think of me for coming back here?
“Our son and Earl Caulfield’s daughter.” Mom clicks again and shakes her head.
“Mom, Dad, come on. Mrs. Caulfield is dead. And the man is a war veteran.”
Alice’s parents were young when they had her. Nineteen, I think. Her dad was deployed when we were little. He hasn’t been the same since he got back from his second tour. When they lost her mom a few years ago, things started getting even worse. I understand why Alice tries to avoid spending too much time with her dad. He’s not in a good place right now, and he takes it out on her the most.
“You forget your father and I have known that man for forty years, Jacob. He’s always been quite…unkempt. Even before his misfortunes befell him.” My mom’s weak attempt at empathy falls short. Everyone knows she thinks the Caulfields are beneath us.
They may have all grown up together here in town, but my parents don’t really know Mr. Caulfield. They definitely don’t understand his daughter. Not that I get her either. Lousy has always been an enigma. My parents, on the other hand, are much less of a mystery. They’re just snobs.
“Forget the girl,” Dad says. “If you have time to be entertaining friends in our home, you have time for a job.”
“We’re concerned about you, Jacob.” Mom tries to soften her tone, but her words are still clipped. She clicks her tongue again. “No schooling, no degree, no career plan, and now you’re sneaking women into our home. This isn’t like you. At the very least, you could ask your uncle for more responsibility and make better use of all this idle time.”
“Okay, you’re right,” I say, more to end the conversation than anything else. Mom hums and bobs her head, pacified for now. They’re wrong about a lot of that stuff, but I do need a job. “I’ll call Uncle Tim and see if he has more work available.” I’ve done a few odd jobs at his vacation rentals.
“My brother has always said there’s a property management position waiting for you if you want it,” Dad chimes in.
“It’s a start, I suppose,” Mom concedes. “But you still need to find some direction, Jacob. Do something purposeful. You don’t want to be working as a handyman for the rest of your life.”
There’s nothing wrong with honest work, but I’m already so over this argument. I close my eyes and force myself to nod. “Sure. I’ll work on finding something purposeful.”
It would probably take years of therapy before I figure out what that actually means for me. But Gibsons aren’t allowed to need counseling. That’s for other people. People who really need it. Like the Caulfields.
“That’s all we ask.” My mom busies herself unpacking the large straw tote bag she took to the retreat. As she sets her sunglasses on the ceramic tray she keeps on the counter, my dad digs into his pocket and does the same with his wallet and keys. It’s their way of signaling this conversation is finally over.
I blow out a frustrated breath. Hungry, but too annoyed to make breakfast, I grab a protein bar from the cabinet before heading down the hall to shut myself in my room. I flop on my bed and open the wrapper. Taking a bite, I stare up at the spinning fan while I chew.
My parents’ method of delivery sucks, but they aren’t totally wrong. I do need to figure out what the hell I’m doing with my life. It’s starting to feel like the walls are closing in here in my childhood home, but this town has a hold on me. As aggravating as living under my parents’ roof can be, North Bay gives me a sense of peace I don’t have when I’m away. Being around the water, having my dog with me, and the slower pace of life in a small town help clear out the static in my brain. The one thing I don’t regret about blowing up my life plan is that I’m finally back for good. Maybe I’m destined to be a townie after all. Would that be such a bad thing?
Hazel lumbers to my side. “I know, girl. You’ve been so patient this morning.” I lean to scratch her behind the ear, and I catch a whiff of citrus on my sheets. Alice.
The sight of her in nothing but my shirt was unexpected. Maybe it’s a good thing my parents came home when they did. The image of her bare legs has me riled up in a way I can’t act on if I want to keep my sanity. I can’t let my mind go there. Things with Alice are strained enough without making her the star of some of my more depraved fantasies.
I need to sweat it out.
“Come on, Hazel. I’ll give you your breakfast and take you for a run.”
It will be more like a brisk jog if we’re lucky. She was a sweet, lazy brick even when she was younger, but now the poor girl definitely can’t keep up with me. Still, I need the exercise. And to get out of this house.
I walk over to my dresser to grab a pair of socks, but when I open the drawer I’m greeted with a silver sparkling mess.
How does this happen? Does Alice carry a vial of glitter in her purse just in case the opportunity to annoy the hell out of people arises? She’s diabolical. But I have to admit she got me good with this one. And I was even starting to feel bad about the shitty way my parents treated her. Not anymore. This was the reminder I needed. Alice Caulfield fully deserves the open can of tuna I left under the front seat of her car.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Louse: Why does Bertie smell like ass?
Me : ::shrugging emoji::
Louse: I know you did this.
Me: Prove it.
I can picture her nostrils flaring, and I chuckle. But now her face is in my head again. I shake the glitter from my socks and grab Hazel’s leash. I really need to burn off some of this energy.