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“It’s not, actually. It’s in Mom’s name, not yours. And based on the will, it’s stipulated that I’m to inherit it once you’re gone. I know that’s probably a lot of big words that are too difficult for you to understand.” I hate myself for stooping to his level with the insults. “But you need some time to calm the fuck down. You can be as mad at me as you want, but Mom has nothing to do with any of this. I kept her in the dark for this exact reason.”
He gets to his feet, stumbling back a step. The railing sways, and for the briefest moment, I think the unthinkable—that it might give way and I’ll be rid of him. But he finds his balance and steps away from the edge, forcing me to step back too, so he’s not breathing his rank smoke-and-booze breath in my face.
He rolls his shoulders back. “I’ve had enough of this shit tonight.” He shoves his hand in his pants pocket, his grin malevolent. “You’ll never get out of here, Winter. Not so long as your mother is still breathing.”
He shoves by me, and Mom shuffles back as he passes through the kitchen. She grabs for his arm, apologizing, and he shakes her off, telling her it’s her damn fault. All of it. And then the porch door slams shut. Gravel pings as he revs the engine and speeds down the driveway. Every time he gets behind the wheel like this, I cross my fingers he makes it wherever he’s going. We can’t afford the hospital bills if he ends up in an accident.
When I turn back, Mom is wringing her hands. “You shouldn’t have lied about where you were going tonight.”
“I didn’t want to get you in trouble.” I step inside and close the screen door to keep the mosquitos out.
“Is that why you didn’t tell me about the acceptance letter? I didn’t even know you’d applied to college.” Accusation laces her tone.
If my mom was the one who found the letter in my room, everything else should be safe. I can deal with her hurt. I can smooth it over. I take a deep breath. “There wasn’t a point in saying anything when I didn’t know if I’d be accepted. And I applied on a whim. It doesn’t matter anyway, since I can’t afford to go.”
She peeks up at me, looking like a scolded child, not a mother. “That letter made it sound like they’d give you some money. Is that true?”
“Sort of… But it doesn’t matter. I can’t go.” Even if they’ll cover tuition, I have to pay for books, housing, and food, and what I’ve saved will only cover half those costs. And I can’t leave her alone to deal with my father. He’ll break her. I can’t live with that guilt. It’s an endless loop.
“You shouldn’t have sent him to the trailer. He’s been drinking,” she whispers.
“He’s always drinking, Mom. And do you want to sleep beside him when he’s like this?”
She looks away, fingers going to her lips before she picks up one of the half-smoked cigarette butts from the ashtray. It’s crumpled, so she straightens it and lights it with shaking hands.
I try to see her through my coach’s eyes. Does he pity her? Does he pity me? Is that why BJ seems so invested in spending time with me?
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I should leave him. I should. I know I should. But I don’t know how.”
I cross the room, emotions warring. I wish my mom could stand up for us, could leave the man who continually hurts her, but she isn’t strong enough. So I have to be strong enough for both of us.
“You could kick him out. You could get an order of protection. He could stay in the trailer.” Even as I say this, I know she’ll never follow through.
“I should tell him to stay there for a few days. Until things calm down. I’m sorry he tore up the acceptance letter.”
And we’re back to this. Her continued apologies are a red flag. “Did you find the letter or did he?” I move around her, my legs wooden and my mouth dry as I push open the door to my room. Her contrition makes sense now.
It’s been ransacked. My things are strewn all over the place, binder lying open, papers scattered across my bed. My textbook for my class lies in a heap on the floor, but it’s my open dresser drawers that incite the real panic.
“I didn’t realize you had so much money in there.” Mom’s tone is equal parts apology and blame.
“It was from tips.” I didn’t put it in the bank on purpose, so it wouldn’t go missing from my account, which is still connected to theirs. I planned to drop it in when I needed to pay for my fall courses.
“It would have helped with the expenses.”
“I know. That’s why I put it aside, so I could help when we needed it.”
The bottom three drawers are pulled out, the contents vomited over the sides and onto the floor. But the top one is missing completely. My underwear and sports bras are all over the floor.
My stomach sinks and rolls. I don’t know what I expect to find as I drop to my knees and comb through the contents. It’s like my mind is resisting the truth: that he found it and took everything. That my mom didn’t stop him. We both have a secret stash, but she didn’t know the extent of mine. We called it the just-in-case fund. It was supposed to be enough for emergency groceries, or gas for the car, or a bill that couldn’t wait to be paid.
“No, no, no.” The metal lockbox has been jimmied open, and the contents are gone. I almost had enough saved for an entire semester of online college courses. And the deadline to pay tuition is coming up. There’s no way I’ll make enough in the next few weeks to replace it. I can’t afford a single class now.
Tears prick at my eyes. My dad is a master at ruining good things.
“Why did you tell him where to find it?”
“I-I-I didn’t know there would be that much money.” Her hands strangle each other. “I thought you only had a couple hundred dollars in there. And then he found the acceptance letter. You shouldn’t have hidden those things. Or that much money. He was so mad.” Her fingers go to her lips again. “And then you were with that boy with the watercraft. You have to be careful, Winter. Those rich boys put ideas in your head. Like that coach. I’m sure he means well, but what happens when the funding for that program runs out? Or you can’t make the grades and keep the scholarship? And then all your hope would be taken away again. Remember when that happened before?”
