“So was the ‘innocent bystander,’” I say, getting more annoyed by the second. Dealing with my mother is the price I have to pay to see Ronin, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
“Well, with your legal troubles and all, I’m sure you’ll understand that we can’t have you coming for unsupervised visits with Ronin anymore. It’s just not safe for him.”
What. The. Fuck?
“Not safe?” I hiss the words.
“Not safe at all,” my mother says with confidence. “And our lawyer agrees.”
I’m about to lose my mind, but I manage to rein in my anger when I see Ronin skipping his way back across the hall, dragging a spiky-haired kid behind him.
“Tanner, this is my brother, Knox. He said you’re not really taller than me; it’s just your hair that makes you look tall.”
Jesus.
Tanner looks up at me with pure venom in his eyes. “Hmmmm,” I say, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Now that I see you guys up close? Wow.” I fake a whistle. “You guys are both seriously tall. I think Tanner might have you beat by a teensy, tiny bit, bud. Like, the length of...a ladybug’s leg.” They both nod somberly, as though that’s an actual fucking measurement and as though I’ve been ordained to officially compare and contrast the heights of second graders across the land.
“Tanner said that we can go to the cafeteria where the POT is letting you decorate Christmas cookies. And he knows cause his mom is on the POT.”
It’s taking every ounce of maturity I possess not to laugh out loud and tell Tanner that it’s totally cool that his mom’s on the POT. Ollie swears by the stuff. But instead, I say, “Cool, lead the way, guys.” We make it about two feet before my mother interrupts us.
“Ronin, it’s late, and we don’t have time to decorate cookies. Say goodbye to your friend and your brother. And remember what I said, sweetie?Knox is very busy with finals over the next few weeks, so you won’t see him for a while, but that’s ok, right? You understand that Knox has to focus on school, don’t you, sweetie?”
Unshed tears pool in my brother’s eyes, and I’m so close to losing my shit and causing a scene. The only thing that holds me back is that I’d be in even more trouble if I start throwing shit and cussing in the middle of an elementary school. Besides, I need to be a man that Willa and Rose can be proud of and instigating family drama at a kids’ holiday concert isn’t admirable behavior.
Squatting down, I look Ronin in the eye. “I’ll be busy, bud, but I’ll always make time for you. I promise, ok?” He solemnly holds out his pinky and we shake. I give him one long hug that will have to last me for the foreseeable future, then I turn and walk out.
I’m halfway home before I can think straight and unclench my fists from the steering wheel. What the actual fuck? I shouldn’t be surprised that my mom would stoop so low as to ban me from seeing my brother. She’s a narcissist to her core, and when I was at his basketball game a few weeks ago, he wanted to ride in my car on the way to lunch, instead of riding with his mom and dad. No big deal. It was literally a five-minute drive. My mother said nothing—didn’t even mention the lack of car seat or back seat, but I could tell she was pissed.
And this is my punishment.
It doesn’t matter that the punishment doesn’t fit the crime. It doesn’t matter that there’s no actual crime. What matters—what always matters—is that my mother is the center of the universe, and when she feels slighted, we all pay.
I can remember being eight or nine. It was right before she married Keith. They’d been dating for a year, and he’d always been nice to me—took me to a couple baseball games, took me fishing, and even made sure we had matching tuxes for the wedding. Anyway, I told her I was really excited that we were going to be a family of three—me, her, and Keith. Instead of being overjoyed that her son and husband were bonding, she looked at me with pity and said Keith told her he wanted to be a real dad and have a child of his own.
That’s classic Heather Gallagher-Dorsey. Instead of letting me believe Keith actually liked me, she had to crush my excitement just because she felt slighted. I vividlyremember sitting in Psych seminar last year and coming to the realization that she’d most likely lied. Looking back, Keith probably never said those words, or she manipulated whatever he did say just to make me feel like shit.
Mission accomplished, Heather.
I make it back to Bainbridge before too long, and I’m tempted to go straight at the light instead of hanging a left onto campus. I want to keep driving until I find myself on Ian’s doorstep, begging to see my girls. My mind is a jumbled mess, and usually I’d go to Wolfie’s and drown my confusion in alcohol and a willing bed partner. But all I want to do now is talk to Willa. I crave the connection we once had. I know that’s not the way she sees me anymore, but I’m going to work like hell to get back there.
But calling now or stopping by unannounced probably won’t win me any points. It’s after nine, and Rose has been asleep for more than an hour. Willa’s probably exhausted, so a visit from me is the last thing she needs. I hang a left and take the winding road up to The Chapel. Our driveway is empty, and belatedly I remember that Ty, Phoebe, and Whit are all at Booker’s exhibition game.
I key in my code, drop my shit next to the front door, and pour myself a generous double shot of whiskey. It goes down smooth, and I pour another before heading upstairs. Toeing off my shoes, I fall back on my bed and stare up at the ceiling.How the fuck did I get here?I wonder. My life is a mess, and I don’t have a clue how to untangle it.
* * *
I’m meetingWilla and Rose at the library in twenty, which is just one reason I’m in a good mood today. The other is that I talked with my lawyer again, and he said my mother’s claims are baseless. According to him, there’s no legal reason for her to deny me access to my brother. Things are starting to look up.
Yea, I felt defeated leaving Willa’s place the other night, but things are going to get better—I can feel it. I just need to put in the work.
I’m still buttoning my shirt as I head downstairs. Immediately, I hear catcalls from the direction of the living room. I look over to see Whit, Booker, and two of Booker’s teammates, Ollie and Koz.
“Damn, baby. The hell you doin walking down here looking like a damn snack?” Whit asks as he whistles.
“Nice shirt. You coming out later? Coach canceled tomorrow’s morning skate, so we’re all heading out to Wolfie’s and then hitting up Kappa.”
“Speak for yourself, Ollie. I’ve got a study date with my girl at the library,” Koz says.
