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I look him square in the eye. “It is too early for this shit.”
Turning, I make my way toward the living room. I need to sleep this hangover off, then ask Dylan what he gave me to drink last night.
I’m yanked back by the collar of my jacket, and instinctively I spin, my fists stopping inches from my father’s face.
“You fucking ungrateful bastard!”
“What don’t you understand about what I said? It. Is. Too. Fucking. Early. For. This. Shit.”
Turning back around, I almost make it another step before he spins me by the shoulder and lands a pretty punch to my face. This time, I swing and hit him in the jaw. He reels back, and I advance. “Yesterday in your office, you caught me off guard, Dad. I’m fucking ready for you now, old man.”
My words hit the mark, and he lurches for me. I move to the side, and he crashes against the fridge. “How dare you speak to me like that?” his voice is low as he staggers up.
“How dare I? You’re the one who waltzes into this house ready to play concerned father when you’re done with your whores. You don’t get to ask me where I’ve been. You don’t get to pretend you’re interested in any fucking thing that has to do with this family.”
“I don’t need to answer to you, kid. I’m the one that’s paying for your lavish lifestyle.” He spits.
“That’s all you got going for you, huh? Your wallet.” I scoff.
“You talk a big game, but you’re just a little boy still living under my roof.”
“Maybe you’re right about me, but you’ll always be the asshole who left your grieving wife and son night after night to get your dick wet.” Walking away, I slam the front door behind me.
Six years ago
“Lily, stay where I can see you,” my mom shouts. “You used to be like her just a few years ago. She ruffles my hair as she passes.
I groan in frustration, focusing on my game; I’m getting my ass kicked. I didn’t want to be here. At fourteen, I have long outgrown awkward family vacations. I have long outgrown a lot of things, including ice-skating. On the other hand, my sister is still very much in love with the ice and the woods.
“Where’s Dad?”
“Ice fishing with Mr. Cooper from the cabin next door. The Coopers are coming over later for a bonfire.
“Sweet!” Now seeing Jennifer Cooper is something to look forward to.
“You still have a crush on Jen?” My mom laughs, and I feel the heat rising to my cheeks.
Lily’s singing something in the distance.
Lily’s skating, laughing, her hair swirling, her breath coming out in puffs.
Lily’s there one second, and then she’s gone.
My mom and I hear the crack of ice and her scream simultaneously. We glance over at the lake.
It takes less than a minute to make it from the cabin porch to the lake. That’s how close we are. I can still see her pink mittens. I can still hear the water and her voice. Calling. Calling. Calling.
My mom rushes toward her. The rule is we always wear snow boots. “Ryder, go get help.”
I can’t see Lily anymore, and my mom is searching for the lake's icy surface.
The wind stings my face as I run faster than I have in my entire life toward the Coopers.
Later that day, search and rescue lift my sister's frozen body from the icy lake, and I have never felt colder. I watch even though Mrs. Cooper tries to shield me from it. She can’t protect me from the harsh reality that I will never see my sister again, never hear her laugh or tease her. I pull away from her grasp and rush over to where my parents stand.
A wounded cry leaves my mother’s lips. The inhumane sort of cry. Like an injured animal. My father stands so still, I wonder if he, too, is frozen.
My little sister is gone, and she’ll never outgrow awkward family vacations and ice-skating. She’ll never outgrow anything.
