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“Walking in or knocking.” I bite my lower lip looking up at him. One thing about Preston is he never judges me for my thoughts. He’ll tell me his opinion. We sit down on the front steps staring out into the gated community he grew up in. He’s always watching his surroundings. Like he’s looking for an answer to his questions or waiting for someone to jump out at him.
“This is your home, so walking in is the answer to your debate but it’s all about what you’re comfortable with.” He sighs. “Dad doesn’t make it easy. You look like the mistake he made when Mom and him were ‘on a break,’ and he takes out the anger he feels toward your mom on you. Which I think is a damn shame because you’re a kickass person and he’s missing out on a great relationship.” He puts his arm around me and pulls me into him. “Mom loves you like the daughter she never had. I mean, she has three rowdy boys.” Preston rolls his eyes, making me laugh. Laura is forever making plans with me for mother daughter outings which I love because my own mother never did this with me. It was always Julie, Stacy’s mom, doing it with me.
“So, walking in is the answer.” I smile at him. We stand and he gestures to me to do it. I open the door and yell, “Honey, I’m home.” Caleb, my fourteen-year-old brother, and William, who is ten, both come running, yelling my name and I hear Laura telling them to stop running in the house. They tackle hug me and if Preston wasn’t behind me I would’ve fell on my ass.
“Hey, big spoon,” she teases as she hugs me over top of her boys, or rather she tries to with her five-foot two frame.
When I first met her, the first words out of her mouth were, “Damn you’re fucking tall. How’s the weather up there?” I couldn’t help but laugh. She calls me a big spoon because I eat my cereal with a tablespoon instead of one of those small spoons.
“Hey, little spoon. Something smells amazing.” We start walking toward the living room.
“I made lasagna. I know you and Pres are in training, but I also know you love my lasagna.” The hair on the back of my neck stands up. She made my favorite dish, so there must be bad news coming.
“Am I in trouble?” I ask, surveying the room for my dad. He isn’t here yet. Did I piss him off or miss a text from him? I look around, and Laura shakes her head. “Something is going on and if you need to make my favorite to butter me up, I’m not going to like it. He’s backing out on Thanksgiving, isn’t he?” I always take a ski trip with Stacy and her family for Thanksgiving. Laura goes to her family for that holiday, and they couldn’t understand why she had to take me in when my mom died. It wasn’t my dad’s responsibility, and especially not hers, to make me feel like part of the family. Laura left with me when she heard them say nasty words to me.
“No. Why would you think that?” Laura’s nervous as she wrings her fingers. She turns and hurries to the kitchen. Preston falls onto the couch laughing. He shakes his head. “Caleb, set the table. Your dad is almost home.”
“How was practice?” William asks.
“Rough but good. We have a game tomorrow. You coming to see your sister kick some ass on the ice?” I mess up his blond hair. He’s the spitting image of his mom. He shrugs then laughs as I tickle him on the floor in the living room. The door slams and we all know it means dad’s home.
“What’s going on here?” His voice is filled with laughter. He stills when he sees me. When is he going to stop acting like this around me?
“Sloane is tickling me.” William says in between catching breath from laughing so hard. Preston is watching dad. “She has a game in two days. Are we going?” My dad claps Preston on the shoulder, hugs William as he stands, then stares at me with disinterest.
“I can’t. Preston and I have practice.” He walks away. I sigh, falling onto my back since I was on the living room floor with William. The tears fall. I usually wait until I’m safe and sound in my dorm room away from everyone to show how his words, actions, and lack of affection hurts.
“William, go wash your hands.” Preston breaks the silence as both stare at me. “Talk to me,” he whispers. I shake my head. “Sloane, what can I do?”
“I need to leave.” I wipe the tears away. “Let Laura know I’ll call her later.” I stand to leave, but Preston grabs my wrist, pulling me into a hug. I try not to sob so I go still. “Preston,” I whisper his name. He hugs me tighter.
“You made her cry. You’re a big jerk.” Preston and I break apart at the sound of William’s raised voice.
“Don’t speak to me like that or you’ll go to your room.” Dad’s voice is calm. William comes out of the dining room and runs upstairs. His face is red. “Are you happy now?” Dad is standing in the doorway. I push off Preston to leave, but Laura’s voice stops all of us.
“Henry! Are you happy now? You made your daughter cry, and your son ran away from you.” She sighs. “Pres, go tell William dinner is ready. Sloane, go throw water on your face then come to the table. This is family night. Henry, if you wish to join your wife and four,” she emphasized the word four, “children, then change your attitude. You are an adult and need to lead by example. This is not what I want for my children, all four of them, to grow up to be.” She spins on her heels and heads back to the kitchen. I race away to the bathroom off the living room to splash water on my face. I sigh, heading back into the dining room. William isn’t looking at my dad, but he spots me and pats the chair next to him. I smile and sit next to him.
“Now that everything is under control, Sloane, I need you to tutor a player for me.” I have a forkful of lasagna almost to my mouth, I freeze.
“No.” I shove the fork into my mouth.
“If you want to go on the ski trip, you will tutor my player.” My dad states a matter of fact and goes back to eating. I stare at him, and Laura looks down at her plate. She knew it was coming and couldn’t have given me the heads up. Preston hits my foot and shakes his head. He knows I want to argue. “I set it up for tomorrow at three.”
“I have class until four then study group until six. I wish you would’ve asked me about my schedule.” I sigh. “Not like you care,” I mutter.
“Fine. Send me your schedule and I’ll coordinate with my player.”
“Whatever.” I go back to eating and not speaking anymore. Laura tries to talk about school with everyone, but the mood is sour. Dad eats then leaves. I finish and take my plate to the kitchen then hug my brothers so I can head back to the dorm. I need to catch the bus since I don’t have a car like Preston got on his eighteenth birthday. I walk to the bus stop three blocks away and wait. My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Little Spoon:
I knew about the tutoring, not the ski trip. I was so mad I couldn’t look at him.
Me:
He doesn’t care about anything but his boys, you, and his football team.
Little Spoon:
