Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“How about you both stop acting like kids?” I say, tossing a look back and forth between them. Neither is immature on his own, but together all bets are off.
For what it’s worth, Morgan ignores him. “I’m going inside to check on Dad. Thanks for coming.” He reaches a hand up to brush my hair off my forehead the way he used to. It’s been so long and surprises me so much that I flinch, and Morgan stops…drops his hand, turns, and goes back inside.
When I hear the door close, I breathe again.
“You’re going to get hurt,” Rhett says. “He won’t stay. He’ll leave us all behind just like he did ten years ago.”
I don’t mention what prompted him to leave the way he had because we both know he was going regardless. “I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”
“What is it you see in him? He’s selfish and—”
“No. He’s not. He’s a lot of things, but selfish isn’t one of them.” As our friendship grew, I shared more with Rhett. He knows why I kissed him that night, knows I’ve been in love with Morgan my whole damn life, which he’ll never understand.
“You deserve better,” he says.
“Like you?” I snap, though I know that’s not what he meant. Rhett isn’t queer. He kissed me back that night because he was drunk and sad and wanted to punish Morgan. We’ve discussed it a lot over the years. He’s never been with a guy, and while we’ve become friends, there’s no romance between us. Morgan might not let many people in, but he always let me in. Rhett, we talk and spend time together, but he’s never opened up to me the way Morgan has. I don’t know if Rhett knows how to ever let anyone in—even his ex-wife.
“You know I don’t want that with us,” Rhett says.
“I don’t either. I was just proving a point. Let it go. What’s between me and Morgan is just that. What you both need to do is focus on fixing what’s going on in your family.”
He loosens his tie and pushes off the car. “That’s never going to happen, and you know it.”
Rhett doesn’t say goodbye, just heads for the house, leaving me out here alone.
CHAPTER FIVE
Morgan
I go into the kitchen, the food I prepared still sitting there untouched. My pulse speeds too fast, and my stomach churns—I left Rhett and Dusty out there together—but I ignore it. They’re friends, and I have no claim over Dusty.
It’s only a minute or so later that the door opens and Rhett joins me.
“Dad didn’t eat?” he asks, disapproval dripping from his words.
“I cooked. I told him the food is done. Am I supposed to force-feed him?”
Rhett ignores me and starts making him a plate, then warms it up in the microwave.
“He doesn’t need to be babied.”
“We’re his sons. He’s had a stroke.”
“He can work all day, make phone calls, yell at people and all that, but not put together some tacos?” It would be one thing if I felt he couldn’t truly do this for himself. I would do it. Or hell, if he’d asked, I would have done it too, but Rhett’s natural inclination is always to be the first to suck up to Dad, to show him how good a son he is, when our father has never cared to prove to us how good of a dad he can be.
“I should have known you wouldn’t care. You know Dad doesn’t ask for help.”
“Fixing his plate isn’t going to make him show you he loves you. It isn’t going to make him be a good dad, or tell you he’s proud of you, or treat you like an equal.”
He tries to cover it, but I see him flinch. As much as I dislike my brother, I feel sorry for him too. He’s spent his whole life following in the footsteps of a man who doesn’t deserve it, trying to make proud a man who will never be satisfied, to earn the love of someone who will never show it.
“Jesus, you’re such an asshole. I wish I’d never listened to Dad and asked you to come home.”
Dad had asked Rhett to get me home? That’s news to me, and honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about it. Is it just to get his way? Be in control? Prove that I love him? But now definitely isn’t the time for me to try and work through it. “Being an asshole seems to run in this family, and I’m here now. What do I need to know about Dad? Real stuff, not making his plate.”
Rhett pulls a pill container from the cabinet and goes over the meds he takes—blood pressure, blood thinners, on and on. They’re separated by morning and evening. He’s got a list with the bottles, explaining how to refill the container if Rosie’s not here, and what meds he takes when. He’s got it all organized in a way only Rhett can. “Dad is good about taking them most of the time, but sometimes he forgets and sometimes he gets stubborn.”