I shrug. I’m well past being ashamed of how I feel about Wren. “I wanted her for years, and I won’t lie about that. When I thought you were being a decent husband, I convinced myself that she was better off. Even though I thought you were holding her back, if there was love, then life would work out the way it should. When I saw you fucking that woman in the back of the car that Wren bought for you, I stopped thinking of her as yours. From that moment on, she was mine to protect, mine to care for, and mine to love. You sure as fuck didn’t do it right. You don’t seem to have loved your family the way you should either. Your selfish decisions put your children in danger, and you’d rather bitch about Claudia hurting your feelings than take accountability for what drove her away from you. I won’t make the same mistake. When I hear you raising your voice to my wife, you bet your ass I’m going to come over here and protect her.”
“I’m your son,” he argues.
“And? You’re a drunk and a junkie. Those two things are more important to you than anything else, but you did not get that from me. I’m loyal to my family.”
“Then what will I do? My family is gone, and if you turn your back on me too, what will I do?” Some of the fight drains out of him, but he’ll rally eventually.
“How did you fix it the last time?” It’s not really a question I need him to answer. We both know how he fixed it.
“Sunset Lakes again?” he asks.
“If you can think of another way to get yourself sober again, then let’s hear it. You’ve got a fight ahead of you to get your family back, and that won’t happen with you under the influence.”
Liam hangs his head. “Will you drive me?”
I jingle my keys in front of me. “Now that is something I can do for you.”
There’s beena somberness hanging over our cul-de-sac the last six weeks since Liam has been in rehab. The kids are sad because they miss their cousins, and the adults are concerned that Claudia hasn’t come home yet. The house just sits there at the end of our corner, sad and empty. It doesn’t seem like a good sign that even though Liam is away, she still hasn’t come home.
As if we don’t see enough of each other, Charlie steps out onto his porch with his cup of coffee, only this time he’s joined by Scott. Harlow is due to give birth any day now, and we’d all feel better if they were here with family rather than the apartment over the shop. Not to mention, those stairs would be a royal bitch for a pregnant woman to use daily.
With a little one on the way, they both decided that Seattle wasn’t where they wanted to raise a family. I’ve never been a fan of big cities myself, so of course it makes sense to me. The University pushed hard for him to take the vacant coaching position, and once the fancy corporation they were working for arranged a way for them to work remotely, the decision was easy. The only part that has been less than ideal is that they are having to stay with Charlie until their house is done.
Since Hattie’s a nurse, it made the most sense for them to stay with them. Scott is chomping at the bit to complete their house, which is going up on the other side of Bess and Donovan’s house, the last vacant lot on our little corner of Centralia. They’re going to have to wait a little longer, though, because even though Scott is willing to spend a good chunk of the zeroes in his bank account, rain doesn’t give a shit how rich you are. But even spring comes to an end eventually.
I hope that is all that is coming to an end. All around us, the flowers are blooming, and new life is sprouting. My baby girl, Elisa, isn’t even a year old yet, and pretty soon we’ll have Scott and Harlow’s new baby to welcome into the family. I hope all this joy isn’t shrouded by the end of another family.
“You going to stay on your porch glowering at their house, or you gonna come over here and hatch a plan with the dad gang?” Charlie shouts across the lawn.
Last winter, Charlie got it into his head that we should form a dad gang, to, and I’m not shitting you when I say this, protect ourselves from the PTA moms.
Scott shakes his head, but I can tell by his smile that he’s as amused by Charlie’s antics as the rest of us. I don’t know why he chooses to act like the class clown. We all know he’s deeper than he lets on, but he’d much rather the world sees him as the goofy sidekick. I wish that were the excuse for the dad gang, though. I think he’s just really scared of women in sweater sets.
“Did you say we’re having a dad gang meeting?” Donovan shouts out his kitchen window.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, that isn’t a thing,” I yell back as I cross the distance between my house and Charlie’s.
“And yet, here we all are, ready to discuss dad shit, in a group of men. A gang, if you will,” Charlie pushes back.
I roll my eyes. Charlie was always going to get his way. That’s the evil genius of tricking everyone into not taking you seriously.
Donovan shrugs. “I don’t mind joining a gang. I always wanted some bad boy cred. It might make me cool.”
“And owning a string of bars doesn’t do it?” Scott teases.
Donovan tips his head to the side. “Didn’t they beg you to reconsider entering the draft for Major League Baseball? You wouldn’t understand.”
“Please, I’m a computer nerd that happens to be good at throwing a ball,” Scott protests.
“You’re both dorks, okay? Happy now? If we’re all going to be losers and join a gang of middle-aged suburban dads, then I at least want to meddle in my son’s life,” I say to both of them. Of all the dumb arguments we’ve had, this one, well, sadly, it’s probably not in the top ten, but it’s probably number eleven.
“I am only twenty-two,” Scott grumbles.
“Scott, what’s the rule?” Charlie asks him.
“That was serious?” Scott asks. Charlie just keeps staring him down. “I won’t do it again. You can’t make me do it. I won’t. I’ve got too much to live for.”
“Fucking hell, did you two take drugs this morning?” I grumble.
