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I shake my head. “What’ve you got there?” I motion towards his project on the table.
“Oh, just getting this shotgun cleaned up. I picked it up for cheap at an auction last week.” He sticks a giant Q-Tip into the disassembled barrel and makes a disgusted face when it comes out black. “I don’t think anyone has ever cleaned this thing before. Disgusting.”
“Looks like it.” I say, trying to feign interest. My poor dad. All he ever wanted was a son to hunt and toss a football with. Instead, he got stuck with me; a girl that hates the outdoors and never had an interest in sports. He took me hunting one time, but I had snuck a book with me into the tree stand, just in case we had downtime. I still remember him shaking his head in frustration when he found it. We did not get a deer that day, thankfully. Knowing me, I would have puked, or cried, or both if I would have had to take home a dead animal. He never invited me to hunt with him again and that was fine by me.
“So” Dad breaks the silence, “Hiding from your mother, I suppose?” he asks, not removing his eyes from the piece of metal he is polishing.
“Yes, actually.” I huff. “Did you hear her screaming at me?”
“No, but in all fairness, I have gotten very good at tuning her out over the past thirty years.” He jokes. “I didn’t need to, though. I heard all about it on the way home.”
“Oh, I’m sure you did.” I sigh. “Honestly, I’m amazed at how you handle it. I would have gone out to get a gallon of milk a long time ago and never returned.”
He snorts. “Maybe that’s why I never go to the grocery store. The temptation is too great.” He answers with a wink.
I roll my eyes at his stupid dad joke. I won’t ever admit that I’m thankful for his ability to lighten any mood. “Seriously, though. This is why I don’t come home more often. I swear every thing I do makes her mad.” I sigh.
Dad climbs onto the stool next to his worktable and turns around to face me. “Honey. I know your mom is a lot to handle sometimes. Today, her emotions are running higher than usual and it’s affecting everyone around her. Give her a chance to calm down and I’m sure she will see that she overreacted. She loves you so much, she just doesn’t always do a great job of showing it.”
“I’m sure you’re right. I just hate the fact that every time we are together, it’s a complete shit show.”
He nods. “Me too. We don’t have nearly enough time together to waste it arguing over petty things. I’ll talk to her.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Per usual, Dad fixes everything.
Chapter 3
My car rolls to a stop in front of Avery’s house, and I exhale a deep breath in an attempt to shake the tension in my body after my visit with my parents. Avery’s daughter is with her dad tonight, so we are taking that as an opportunity to grab dinner and have an old-fashioned sleepover. I might as well get some quality time in with my bestie while I have the chance, because goodness knows I don’t make it to town often enough to hang out with her regularly. It’s been a while since we had time to do this. Our sleepovers aren’t much different now than when we were kids. We typically stay up too late watching old rom-coms, and eat way too much junk food. The only difference now is that we are old enough to legally add alcohol to the mix.
The ignition isn’t even shut off before Avery steps onto her screened-in porch to wave me inside. I busy myself with gathering my purse and overnight bag, leaving the shoes I took off as soon as I left my parents. I climb out of the car, locking the door behind me before carefully walking barefoot up her brick sidewalk.
“I just need to change real quick and then I’m ready to go.” I say, making my way into her living room. In a matter of minutes I emerge from the bathroom in a pair of leggings, a loose t-shirt, and a messy bun on top of my head, my usual look. I shove my dress and uncomfortable bra into my bag and retrieve my sneakers. “Much better.” I sigh after slipping them on and tying my laces. “Now I feel like me again.”
“You look like you.” Avery agrees. “Let’s go. I’m starving. Is it okay if we walk? I want to have a margarita.”
“And I need at least 2 margaritas after the day I’ve had.” I tell her and pause as she stops to lock the front door.
“I take it your visit didn’t go well?”
“Does it ever?” I let out a small laugh. “Get this. My mom bitched me out for not crying at the funeral. And if I couldn’t naturally cry, I could have at least thrown her a bone and pretended for the sake of the audience.” I pause. “Of course, that was after I walked right into some jerk at the coffee shop and sloshed my drink on his chest. He stormed out of the place like I ruined his life and made me feel like crap.”
“Oof.” Avery says. “What did your dad say about your mom?”
“He stood up for her, per usual. Of course, he was already hiding from her in the den when I got there, cleaning a gun.”
“Classic Lisa and Jerry.” Avery shakes her head, laughing.
“I suppose.” I say with a sigh. “I should have known I was in for it. As soon as I got to the funeral, they cornered me, wanting to know why Elliott didn’t come.”
“Eh..” Avery says, shrugging her shoulders, as she steps onto the sidewalk on Main Street. “I mean, it is a little weird that he didn’t come with you. It was Grandma Hazel, after all. She was so important to you. You were closer to her than you are to your parents.”
“I’m sure he would have, had I asked him to.” I say, kicking at a rock that lays in the middle of the sidewalk. “But why burn a vacation day to come to Fawn Creek and eat casserole at my parents’ house, while my mom makes snide comments to us both? I wouldn’t want to do that either. Hell, I avoid his parents at every chance I get, too.”
“I don’t know, Ty.” She says. “I just feel like, with as close as you and Hazel were, he shouldn’t have waited for you to ask him. He should have just came to support you.”
“You’ve met my parents. Should he really volunteer to be subjected to them?”
