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“Come to the house.”
No. No, no, no. “Is she gone?” I couldn’t ask it without my voice breaking. Mikey reached for my hand and held it so tightly it cut off all circulation.
“No! No, she’s not. She’s fine. Come to the house.”
I dropped the phone into my lap and felt my head spin with gratitude. Mikey must have heard enough of my sister’s words to give the driver my mom’s address. When we pulled up to the small house on Reinhardt Street my family had lived in as long as I could remember, I felt a bitter kind of nostalgia. Despite being the site of my father’s brutality, it had been our home. Buying that little house was the one good thing my father did. I’d paid off the mortgage a little over a year ago, and knowing the only expenses my mom had on it now were taxes and utilities was a giant relief.
“Do you want me to go?” Mikey asked. I knew he didn’t really mean it, but he was trying to give me options.
“Get your ass inside.”
He grinned and hopped out of the car after throwing the driver a smiley thanks. We gathered our bags and made our way to the front porch. I knocked before opening the door and stepping inside. I stopped so abruptly, Mikey ran into the back of me and practically bounced off.
There sat my mom and both sisters, wearing pajamas and lounging on the sofa with a table full of sodas and snacks.
“Mom?”
I heard Mikey utter a curse word under his breath. As much as my fists wanted to clench, I forced myself not to jump to conclusions.
“What’s going on?”
Mom jumped up and came over to hug me. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here. I feel like you’ve been gone for ages.”
“I’ve been gone less than a week,” I said into her hair. It smelled clean. The coconut scent of her Suave shampoo was familiar, and it was hard not to sink into the same familiar role of dutiful son when I was surrounded by all the cues that put me right back in that mental place. “What’s going on? I thought you were in the hospital? In surgery?”
She pulled away and headed back to her spot on the sofa, waving a hand over her shoulder. “No, that was just a little white lie to get you home. But now that you’re here, you can help us come up with a plan. Kira has found—”
I didn’t let her continue. “Wait, what? You weren’t in an accident?” I stared at Sophie. “You… you lied and told me she was seriously hurt and in surgery, and she was really just… you…” I couldn’t even get more words out. The truth of the situation was horrifying.
Mikey shifted behind me, reminding me he was there. He knew the humiliating truth of the lengths my family would go to in order to manipulate me. Our fucked-up parental relationships had been one of the things the two of us had in common. It had been one of the things that had helped us bond so early on. If things were shitty at home, at least we had each other. And it had been a godsend.
Still was.
My face flooded with heat. “Holy shit.”
Mom held up her hand as if that would stop me from jumping to all the right conclusions. “Now see here, just wait a minute. We have some ideas. Kira found out about a lawyer who will only charge six thousand to—”
“No. No! I can’t believe you lied to me to get me here so… what? So you could get me to pay for this lawyer? After I said I was done getting Kira out of her messes?”
“That’s not fair,” Kira said with a pout.
And that’s when I completely lost my temper.
“Not fair? Not fair? You mean like having my sister show up high as a fucking kite in front of my crew and my client? Like having to leave in the middle of a job to save my other sister from getting her ass beat by her own fucking boyfriend? Like having to cover my mother’s bills when she can’t get her ass out of bed to make it to work on time?” I took a breath. “Like having to leave someone I care about while he’s going through some major shit just because my selfish fucking family can’t solve a single goddamned problem without my help?”
I felt Mikey’s comforting touch as he ran his hand over my back. It was enough to keep me from completely losing control, but it was a near thing.
My heart was breaking, suddenly and without warning. Here were three women who’d never been the least bit maternal toward me. They didn’t remember my birthday or ask me over for dinner. They didn’t tease me about when I was going to get married or ask to meet my special someone. In all these years of being “the man of the house,” I’d never once felt like I could ask them for their help. And I’d thought I hadn’t even needed it or wanted it. What utter bullshit.
