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Jumping from my truck, I slam the door so I can meet him in a brotherly hug. We both start laughing when Mom yells, “Get off my lawn.”
“That’s nothing compared to what she’s just been saying to Dad,” Jace comments.
I raise an eyebrow in question so he continues, “You wouldn’t think she has a Catholic bone in her body if you’d heard her.” He chuckles. “Dad parked the car on the road last night, and someone bumped the side, and now the door won’t open. It’s been a good while since I’ve seen her so pissed.”
I groan. “Oh, great. Well, she isn’t going to be happy when she hears what I’m here to tell her.”
“I think I’ll head back to work, and leave you to it.” He slaps me on the back.
“Thanks for the support,” I groan.
He gives me a knowing look and grins. “Please tell me you’re finally divorcing that bitch.”
“I—”
“I say it as it is. You know that. If that isn’t what you’re here about then it should be. We both know she trapped you into it, and I think you’re damn honorable staying married to her for as long as you have.” He notices Mom on her way toward us. “Shit. I’m gone.” He heads for his truck.
“Jace,” I call to him. When he looks at me over his shoulders, I admit, “That’s why I’m here.”
He pauses. “Good.” Then he climbs into his battered truck.
He’s an instructor at the police academy in the city, and after five years seems to be getting enjoyment out of it. He used to be a homicide detective, until one fateful night cost him his leg. It hasn’t been easy, but no one gave up on him, and we’ve pushed when he didn’t want pushing. I’d like to think that helped, in fact, I know it did. I’m just thankful I still have my brother.
Jace drives past with a grin on his lips, knowing Mom is probably going to throw a fit when I mention divorce.
Just great!
“Ryder, what a nice surprise.” Mom wraps her arms around me, and pulling back, asks,
“Did you talk to that girl?”
“That girl is named Dahlia and I’m in love with her.” Watching unnamed emotion flitter over her face, I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “C’mon, let’s go and sit in the kitchen. I have something to tell you and Dad.”
“Okay.” She doesn’t look happy, and probably has an idea about why I’m here.
Mom ushers me down into a chair at the kitchen table, and turns to pour a coffee from the warming pot. She passes me the steaming brew. “I’ll go and get your father.”
She walks out of the kitchen.
After all this time, it shouldn’t bother me talking to my parents—having to discuss the time you royally screwed up—but it does.
“Morning, Ryder.” Dad joins me at the table. No friendly hug from him. He’s never been the touchy-feely type. I can’t even remember seeing him touch Mom, such as in a hug or caress.
“Morning,” I mumble in return, knowing he’s not paying me any attention with his newspaper open to the sports section.
“What did you want to talk to us about?” Mom doesn’t waste any time now that Dad’s present.
Here goes.
“I’ve just come from the lawyer’s office.” Now I have my father’s attention. “I’m filing for divorce.”
“About time.” My dad shuts the newspaper and grins at me.
“What? Are you both crazy? What will everyone think when they find out?” Mom drops into a chair and covers her face with her hands and for a second, I wonder if she’s crying. Her voice is definitely weak compared to what it usually is.
“Mom, I mentioned yesterday that I might be doing this. Surely it can’t come as a shock.”
She peers at me between her fingers. “I never expected you to visit today,” she splays her fingers on the table, “to tell us you’ve already seen a lawyer and started the ball rolling. Jeez. That’s damn quick, even for you.”
