24 - Phillip
Before dawn, my alarmgoes off. Quietly, I untangle from Samantha, leaving her sleeping contently. I lean down to kiss her temple before slipping out her door to get home, relieved she’s finally able to rest.
Her dreams are concerning. Hell, I’m worried about her illness too but her mental state has to stay strong in order to fight her illness head on. Without a strong mindset, she could let herself get depressed and that won’t help her at all. I will do anything she needs to help her through this. I won’t lose her.
Silently, I make my way across the street to my house. Samantha has become so important to me that I already can’t imagine being without her. It’s hard to picture because I’ve known her since we were six years old. We practically grew up together. I’ve been lucky enough to see her bloom into who she is today. I say a small prayer that the doctors figure out what’s needed to help get her healed.
The garage door doesn’t squeak when I go through, thanks to my handy work and the can of WD40 I used to spray the hinges. I cut through the kitchen, listening to the house around me. No sounds. Good. Everyone’s still asleep.
It’s still dark, too early for the sun to be up which works in my favor. I creep up the stairs thankful for the new carpet mom and dad put in last year. It helps muffle the two steps that creek under the stress of people walking on them. I’ve never been one to sneak out or stay out very late since I’m not into big crowds, partying or pressing the rules much. However, I have on occasion needed to get away from dad and blow off steam, only to return late at night. My sister sneaks out a lot but as long as she’s happy, I’m happy. I’ve even covered for her on occasion, keeping dad’s heat on me so she’s spared. But since dating Samantha, I’ve snuck out regularly whenever she’s needed me. Like tonight. I can’t stand the idea of her being so upset. Not when I can get to her quickly and help somehow, even if it’s only to hold her until she calms down.
I go in my room and cross to fist my shirt off, tossing it on a nearby chair when my sidelamp clicks on.
“Have fun, Phillip?”
Dad. Shit.
“Your room is down the hall.” Probably not the smartest thing to say.
“I’m perfectly aware of where I sleep. Are you?”
I tense, flexing my muscles. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dad stands. “Just because you’re seeing that girl, doesn’t mean you can go sneaking off to sniff her out at night.”
My nostrils flare and my hands flex into fists at my side. “Watch how you talk about my girlfriend.”
Dad chuckles darkly. “I know all too well what you and your girlfriend were probably up to—”
“I don’t like your tone.” I cut him off. “You don’t refer to her in any way, shape, or form.”
“You’ll watch your tone! In this house, you’ll respect me!”
I step closer, pulling myself up to full height. “You’ll respect her! Then maybe you’ll have mine. I wasn’t doing shit but calming her down.” I bite my tongue, pissed that he got me to say anything.
His eyes narrow. “Calming her why?”
“She’s going through something personal. Something that’s none of your business.”
He steps closer, pointing into my chest with his finger. “You are my business. And you won’t be doing funny business in the middle of the night with that—”
I draw back ready to snatch my father up for the first time ever but mom cuts in. “Harold!”
“Beverly, go back to bed.” My father takes a step back, chest rising and falling quickly as he tries to calm himself. “Our son needs to learn a little respect and how to stay home in his own bed at night.”
“Mom! He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s disrespecting Sam and I won’t have it!”
“Were you or were you not just sneaking back home a few minutes ago?”
“Phillip?” Mom’s face is etched with worry.
“It’s not what you think.” I answer her calmly before turning back to my dad who’s still clearly pissed.
“I will not tolerate lying or disrespect! You will not do this again—”
“I’m eighteen, you don’t get to dictate to me what I can and can’t do!”
It’s clearly a battle of testosterone at this point. I just hate that mom’s a witness to it. Her life has been bad enough, especially since we lost my brother.
“I can’t believe you’re talking back to me. Chase never disrespected me. Ever!” Dad slices his hand through the air trying to finalize this conversation.
Mom steps in. “That’s it! I won’t have you sling our son’s name as a punishment. That is a level of disrespect that I won’t tolerate.”
Dad turns to mom. “Beverly.”
“Don’t you Beverly me. You will not use Chase against him. Period.”
Tears sting my mother’s eyes and I nearly lose my shit at the sight of it. Ever since we lost my brother to that car accident, dad has been a grizzly bear to deal with. It’s like he doesn’t know how to grieve or rather his way is to make everyone miserable around him. They say misery loves company.
“Beverly. He lives under this roof.” Dad looks at mom but points at me and then the ceiling while he speaks. “He will abide by my rules.”
“Say the word and I’m gone.”
Dad sneers, his eyes turning to me. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Why, I bet you want me to kick you out so you can go across the street and play house with your girl.”
“Enough!” Mom yells, gasping with a sob. “Stop this nonsense.”
“Now look! You’ve upset your mother.”
“I did?” I say, incredulous.
“That girl is going to ruin you.”
Mom jumps between us, putting her hands on my chest. I’ve never before hit my dad. I was raised to have the utmost respect for elders and to always follow the examples set. Respect them. Follow rules. Do as you’re told. Don’t air family dirty laundry in public. All that horseshit that keeps up appearances. But in this moment, I have never wanted to plow through my father more than I do right now.
“Harold. I’ll see you in our room.”
His eyes swivel to hers. “Have your minute with him. But mark my words, he lives in this house. He will obey and respect me. He will be appropriate and not be with that floozy until all hours—” I tense again, ready to slam my father into the wall. Mom’s desperate hand on my chest stops me. “And...he can think about leaving or whatever else he might dream up, but I can ruin him. I will not have him disgrace this family. You make sure he knows that.”
My father gives me one more glare before going downstairs, no doubt to brew an early cup of coffee since the sun’s starting to rise. When he’s audibly down the stairs, mom finally takes her hand off my chest, eyes imploring.
“Don’t rile him up, Phillip,” she whispers. “What happened?”
I clench my jaw several times, staring at the open doorway. I close it around without shutting it all the way before turning to my mom.
“Mom, I didn’t do anything bad, I swear.” I keep my voice low, running my hand through my hair. Repeatedly. “Samantha had a nightmare. She thought she saw herself in a casket and it freaked her out. I went over to calm her down. That’s all.”
My mom’s expression softens. “Oh honey.” She touches my cheek, looking up at me. “Is she getting worse? I haven’t talked to Roxy for a few weeks.”
My mom is one of the few in the know when it comes to Samantha’s illness. By her request, Samantha wanted as few people to know as possible. But the more and more things happen, it’s becoming difficult to keep that list short.
“She’s not getting better.” I swallow hard, trying to keep my emotions in check. “I just need to be able to help her. Dad doesn’t get it,” I grit my teeth, biting that list bit out.
“Steer clear of your father today. I’ll deal with him.” She crosses her arms to hug herself. “Try to appear to follow the rules.”
“To keep the peace,” I deadpan.
“Just until you graduate, Phillip.” Mom’s lips form a thin line. “For me. I’ll help however I can, but try to keep the peace. I’m sorry.” Mom touches my cheek. “I love you, Phillip.”
“You too, mom.”
She sports a wobbly smile before walking out my door.
I’ve never wanted to hate anyone but it’s becoming a difficult thing not to hate my father. Regardless, I won’t let him interfere with me helping Samantha. Decision made. He’ll never come between us. If I’m able to help her, I’m going to do whatever needs to be done.