Chapter 4 – Tigger
Luke Walters – 22 years old
A nother twelve-hour shift down. I yawn loudly behind the wheel of my pickup truck, thinking about my life and the Groundhog Day I have come to live work, eat, shower, repeat.
I pull into my parents’ driveway, bracing myself for the storm that’s coming. It’s been at least two weeks since Dad and I fought, so it’s bound to happen any day now.
“Luke, look at the fucking grease you’re smearing all over the house, why can’t you put that degree to use, a mechanic job isn’t going to put a roof over your head like the one I’ve given you.”
Truthfully, we have not agreed since he wanted me to take over the family business years ago. He lives for the money, the large six-bedroom house we live in, and for social events where he is the top dog in every room. I have no interest in those things. I like working as a mechanic. Not to boast, but I’m really fucking good at it.
Liam, my twin brother, thinks I should be grateful for the life our dad has handed to us. He wouldn’t think like that if Dad’s money didn’t pay for the strippers he’s banging, the holidays abroad every other month, or the fancy, expensive cars he’s wrecked from driving recklessly. Liam doesn’t see how he’s slowly becoming society’s pain in the fucking arse. Just last week, Dad had to bail him out of jail for drunk driving. And, of course, Dad, with his endless connections, got him off scot-free.
Liam being the loose cannon and me being the responsible twin is why Dad’s pushing me to take over for him. It makes my skin crawl thinking about it. Standing in an office that overlooks London while demanding things from employees. I just don’t see the appeal.
As I’m walking up the steps to the large wooden door of my family home, I notice Dad’s Bentley rear end sticking out of the garage. Fuck’s sake, he’s home early.
A montage of WALTERS MEDIA photos and awards assaults my eyes as I step through the door. Shivers run down my spine, and I shake my head as I stomp up the spiral staircase towards my room.
“Lukey,” my mother calls from behind me.
When I spin around, she’s standing at the bottom of the stairs, and it kills me to see how she, too, has been corrupted by the lifestyle. Her once beautiful, natural face has been replaced with a plastic one, her eyebrows no longer move, and her smile no longer spreads over her face.
“Yes, Mother?” I say, keeping my expression unreadable. Although Mum looks different from when I was growing up with in Harpsden, she’s still got her wits about her and can see right through me. I’ve never been able to hide anything from her.
“Your father is home.”
“And?”
“And you haven’t spoken to him in a week, why don’t you go see him?” Typical Dad, sending Mum to do his dirty work for him. Fucking coward.
Without replying, I turn back around and continue up the stairs.
“Luke, please try.”
I’d rather not.
Because of him, I lost everything I cared about. Liam to drugs and booze, Mum to money, Trevor and Hadley. A pang crushes my chest when I think about Hadley.
That’s what hurts the most: losing my Tigger .
After slamming the door, I strip out of my jeans, T-shirt, and socks, then fall back onto my bed. I grab the only photograph I have of Hadley and me that her mum took of us .
She’s dressed up as Tigger from Winnie-the-Pooh , and I’m a werewolf. It was at a birthday party for some kid at primary school. Hadley doesn’t remember the photo being taken. Probably because she spent the entire time arguing with Margo, her younger sister, about how Margo should have come as Piglet and not Tinkerbell. I silently agreed with Hadley on that one; there were several other Tinkerbells at the party.
Ever since that day, I’ve been infatuated with Hadley. Her quick comebacks and quirky sense of fashion over the years had me wanting to know more about what lurked behind it all.
She mainly hung around with Lilly—her best friend—and Margo, keeping to herself. Part of that was because most kids at our school were scared of her. She was never outright nasty to anyone, but her disdain for the popular kids never went unnoticed. I guess in the rule of school if you weren’t in with the cool kids, you weren’t in at all.
I trace the outline of her smiling face with my index finger and swallow the lump forming in my throat. Hadley always made it clear I was who she wanted, and each time she professed it, my stomach would erupt in butterflies, every cell of me wanting to take her in my arms and hold her close.
She was made for me, and I was made for her. But this is me, and wherever I go, my father, the Grim Reaper follows. Back then he hated me working on Trevor’s farm, but it was the only way I could be with Tigger outside of school, the only way I could get close to her without anyone else around. I never told Hadley that or how much I cared about her, which is the biggest regret of my life.
Although it would never have changed the path my father had laid out for us, at least she would have known, and maybe she would have waited for me? I often wonder where she is now; did she move on? Does she still work for Trevor? Did she go to university? I try not to recall the day I left her crying out for me in the barn, but it’s burned into my brain and heart. What I could’ve had with Hadley was ruined by the actions of my greedy father.