Distraction Page 30


Dropping her hand, I take a seat. I know she’s as surprised by Dad’s behavior as I am, but I have to say I’m happy this is his reaction. When my mom comes back to the table a second time, she has two glasses full of water and sets them both down before taking a seat.

When my dad sits, Morgan does the same, and my mom opens the large pot in the middle of the table. Scooping out some kind of rice and vegetable mixture, she places some on each of our plates, the whole time avoiding looking at Morgan or me directly. I have no idea what that’s about, but it’s starting to annoy me.

No one says anything. I don’t really eat; I push the rice mixture around on my dish, but am happy to see Morgan clean her plate and take seconds. My dad, who is across the table from me, is glaring at his food like it’s the cause of all the problems in the world, and my mom is doing much like me, moving the food from one side of her plate to the other.

“Can I stay for a few days?” I ask. I don’t know why that’s my question, and not, ‘What the heck are we going to do about Morgan?’ but that’s what comes out, and that’s when everyone’s eyes come to me.

“You know you can, MoonPie,” Mom whispers, and my dad grunts something I can’t decipher, with a nod.

“I thought you would be going home to your boyfriend,” Morgan chimes in, but her words sound almost accusatory when she says them. Pain rushes through me at the thought of Sven, but I ignore it, because now isn’t the time to have a breakdown, and I know once I really let myself think about him, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

“You live with a man?” Dad asks, looking at me.

I really, really want to kick Morgan under the table for opening her big, fat mouth, but instead, I just mutter, “Something bad happened and—”

“What happened?” Dad asks, and I feel Morgan tense at my side, but I’m not going to lie for her. If one good thing came from Sven’s story, it’s that you can’t protect the people you care about by covering for them, and I’m done covering for Morgan.

“Morgan stole some money from a guy. He came looking for her and found me. He roughed me up and—”

“What?” Dad hisses, turning to look at Morgan as Mom whispers, “Oh my,” at the same time.

“Is this true?” Dad asks.

“I know it was wrong.”

“You know it was wrong?” Mom repeats in disbelief.

“I…” She drops her voice. “I know I messed up. I—”

“I gave her the money to pay him back.” I cut her off. “Hopefully it’s done and we can move forward with getting her the help she needs,”

“I want help,” Morgan says softly, and I find her hand under the table and give it a squeeze then drop it.

“What are you on?” Dad questions, and I freeze, because Morgan has never been honest about that. She’s never told me straight out what kind of drugs she’s taking and has always denied using, even when she’s been picked up by the cops and taken in.

“Crack mostly, prescription drugs when I can’t get enough money for a fix,” she tells us, and my body sinks back into my chair.

“You’re gonna go through withdraws. You ready for that?” Dad asks, and she wraps her arms around herself and nods, dropping her eyes to the table.

“Star,” Mom calls, using Morgan’s nickname, and my sister’s eyes go to her, and this time they’re wet. “We love you. I know we’ve mostly let you girls find your own way, but we love you and your sister.”

“Why?” I ask, and Mom’s eyes come to me.

“Why what MoonPie?”

“Why have you let us find our own way?” I ask as tears burn my eyes and my throat aches as I swallow the tears back.

“You girls have always been smart,” Dad cuts in, and my eyes go to him and my brows draw downward.

“No, I was a kid. Morgan was a kid when we left home. Yes, we were both eighteen, but we didn’t know much about the world outside of this place, only what friends told us and what we saw when we were at school. Neither of us were at all prepared for the real world, and you both just left us to find our way.”

“You did okay for yourself,” Mom argues, and I close my eyes and let out a frustrated breath.

“I didn’t, not at first anyway. I was free to make choices, and a lot of them were bad ones.”

“You never said anything,” Dad defends, and I shake my head.

“Even if I wanted to ask you guys for advice, it would take days to get word to you.”

“We didn’t know,” Mom murmurs, and I look at her.

“That’s my point. You guys as parents should have wanted to know what was going on, how we were doing. Not, ‘They will find their own way.’ Even when I sent you letters explaining things that were going on, you weren’t there. You two just live here in your little bubble, where nothing ever penetrates. It’s not fair to me, and it it’s not fair to Morgan.”

Turning when I hear Morgan’s whimper, I watch tears fall from her eyes and her body shake.

“We’re sorry you felt like that way,” Dad says gruffly, and I hear a sound of distress come from my mom as she gets up and moves to Morgan, wrapping her in a hug.

“I can’t do this alone, Dad. I’ve been doing it alone for too long, and I can’t do it anymore,” I whisper, and his hand comes across the table and I place my hand in his.

I don’t know if things are going to change, but I really hope they do.

Chapter 8

Sven

Second chances

“I FUCKED UP,” I mutter as soon as Asher answers the phone.

Asher has been my best friend since I was ten. I would hide out at his house every chance I got. He knew what was going on with my mom, was there when shit went down, and his parents took me in while my dad recovered in the hospital. He’s the best man I know, a man I respect and a man who laughed his ass off when I told him months ago that Maggie was driving me to the brink of insanity.

“Give me a sec,” he mumbles, and I hear him moving around. I’m sure he’s in bed with his wife, November, or has one of his girls close and is trying to get away so he can talk. Hearing a door open on his end, I wander into the den and take a seat in the dark, feeling my nostrils flare when I sit on something hard and know it’s one of Maggie’s books.

When Justin called and told me that Maggie was with her sister, I didn’t even think, or I did, but none of it was good. All I kept seeing was my dad, his constant excuses for my mom’s behavior, what that led to. It’s not an excuse for my behavior, but it’s the truth. By the time I realized what the fuck I did, what I asked Maggie to do, it was too late.

“What happened?” Asher asks, and I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose, trying to get my thoughts in order over the pain in my chest.

“Maggie and I got together a few weeks ago.” I tell him, realizing how long it’s been since we last spoke.

“We both knew that was coming,” he mutters, not sounding at all surprised. “That doesn’t explain a middle of the night phone call, unless you’re calling so I can congratulate you on finally pulling the stick out of your ass.”

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