“You’re more than welcome to stay with me,” I say.
“Thanks, kiddo.”
Yeah, yeah.We both know I had no other choice.
The wooden bench creaks when he leans back and pats his round stomach.“I’m stuffed.Should we head home then?”
Part of me hates that he still refers to the cottage where I grew up as his home.The other part of me—the silly little girl who used to dream of becoming a mermaid—wishes he’d get his shit together and truly want to make up for lost time.
I slip off the bench to throw away the greasy food bag.Rick follows me through the parking lot, thankfully much steadier on his feet than before.
He’s quiet on the drive to the cottage, mostly staring out the window and watching the palms pass by.
The bike lane is busy with traffic.
Maybe I’ll go for a cycle this evening.
Anything to get me out of that house.
My doormat has vanished,which is weird, because it was definitely here this morning.Rick’s shoulder bumps mine as he steps past, stopping beside the old recliner to glance around the living room.“You got the walls painted.”
“Yeah.A few months back.”
He swipes a hand through his thinning hair, frowning up at the ceiling.“I said I’d do it for you when I came back.”
Rick might have a construction license, but he’s not exactly what I would call a reliable worker.
“I didn’t know when that would be.”He claimed he’d be around for my birthday, but the day came and went without so much as a call, a text, or a card, so I took care of the painting myself.
Ignoring the slight, he meanders past the couch into the kitchen.“These cabinet doors are falling off.Where’s your screwdriver?”
“Same place it’s been for the last twenty-six years.”
I’m not an idiot; I know how to tighten a screw.But when Rickdoesturn up, he needs things to keep himself out of trouble.The state of this place will surely keep him busy for however long he decides to hang around this time.
My phone starts buzzing from my purse.When I pull it out and I see my mom’s face flashing on the screen, my stomach sinks.“Hey, Rick, I’ve gotta take this call.Be right back.”I head out onto the front porch to answer.“Hi, Mom.”
She tucks her short blonde hair behind her ear, her blue eyes blazing.“Don’t you ‘Hi, Mom’ me, Chloe Jane.You know you’re supposed to call me the moment that lowlife comes to town.”
The downside of living on a small island is that everyone knows your business.It was only a matter of time before she heard the news.“Sorry.I got busy with work.”And I was trying to save myself the headache.
“Did he ask for money?”she snaps.
“No.”I paid for dinner, but he didn’t specifically ask for money, so it’s not a lie.
“Where is he now?”
The sound of tires crunching gravel draws my gaze down to the driveway.Ethan pulls in, his truck bed loaded down with sandbags.
The guys over at the hardware store must be thrilled.Almost no one buys those things.I wouldn’t put it past them to have sold him twice as many as he needs.
Mom’s shrill tone assaults my eardrum.“Chloe?Hello?Where is Rick now?”
For some reason, Ethan doesn’t head to his own place, but starts for mine with something big and yellow wedged under his arm.
“Sorry, Mom.I gotta go.”I press the red button and stuff my phone back into my pocket.She’s going to kill me for the abrupt dismissal, but that’s future-Chloe’s problem.
When Ethan reaches the top of my stairs, he holds out a doormat that’s shaped like a smiling yellow sun.
