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“You did what?” my mom screeches. “Carl Monroe, I told you to stay out of it!”
He throws his hands in the air defensively, leaning far away from us both. “I only meant for the boy not to hold you back, not to guilt you into staying.”
“That ‘boy’ is a man, the same man who seconds before told you he loved our daughter. I warned you to walk a straight line, to keep your overprotective attitude in check. Grace is a mature business woman. She can make her own decisions.”
“It was a friendly talk.”
“Friendly talk my ass.” She’s stabbing the air aggressively, trying to reach his chest. Lucky for him, he’s out of range.
I suck in a breath, waiting for her to spit fire.
“Get out and take Roy with you. Both of you go think about what you’ve done. You can call me in the morning, and I’ll let you know if it’s safe to come home.” She slings her arm in the direction of the door.
“You can’t kick me out of my own house,” he sputters.
“Hell yes, I can. Maybe you’ll learn a lesson.”
He stands, running his hand down my arm and linking our hands. “I am sorry, Peach Princess. If I had anything to do with all this, I’m terribly sorry.”
“Dad—”
“Nope, nuh-uh, don’t be sweet,” my mom orders me.
I snap my mouth shut but give my dad a wink before he walks out the door, muttering under his breath.
“I can’t believe you did that.” I gulp the last of my moonshine.
Mom takes my glass and tugs me off the couch with her. “We’re going to do something very long overdue.”
“What’s that?”
“We’re going to finish this moonshine, get drunk, and talk about boys. Maybe somewhere in there we can figure out what to do about Nick, because I can tell you right now, he doesn’t want space.”
“I’m pretty sure, if I had the energy, I’d throw up right now,” I tell my grandpa, moaning into the sofa cushion. “That was one of the most awful programs ever.”
“You said that about the last one.”
“Because they’re all awful. How do you watch this? I think my eyes are bleeding.”
“You may want to get that checked out.”
“Can you please find something decent to watch?”
“We could watch football.” He takes a bite of his sandwich, making my stomach rumble in disgust.
The thought of food mixed with the thought of watching football sends waves of nausea through me. My mom was smart enough to know her limit, but apparently, days of not eating much topped with endless moonshine was my undoing last night. I continued to drink until she hauled me to her bed.
There was a trashcan on the floor and a bottle of water on the nightstand when I woke up at noon. She was long gone, deciding to forgive Dad and attend a christening event in town. When the room stopped spinning, I crawled to the bathroom and cried in relief when I saw the fresh clothes she’d laid out for me.
Taking a shower was an effort, but I made it through and stumbled to the sofa, which is where Grandpa found me a few hours ago. He took one look at me and sunk down in the recliner, happily taking over the remote.
“If you want to watch football, you need to go home,” I reply grumpily.
“Nah, I want to spend time with you.”
“Can you at least find an NCIS marathon?”
His eyes light up, and he does as I ask, smiling. This was our thing when I lived here. He and I were NCIS junkies. There probably isn’t an episode we haven’t seen up to this season. This time, he surprises me with NCIS LA, which means hours of enjoyment with Chris O’Donnell, LL Cool J, and Eric Christian Olsen.
