“Lose her?” I got up to stir the cheese, cursing under my breath when I saw it was stuck to the pan. My mind refused to process what he was saying anyway, so I attempted to focus on the food.
“You heard me, goddamn it.” His raised voice made me flinch. I’d never heard it outside the realm of his extreme fury at one of his sons, usually Dominic, but sometimes Antony. I dumped more shredded cheese into the pan, stirred in more milk, unwilling to acknowledge what was going on behind me. I felt in my pocket for my phone and sent a quick text to all my brothers at once.
“Something bad is going on. Come over.”
I took the meatloaf out of the oven, drained the pasta, combined it with the slightly lumpy cheese, and poured the steamed green beans into a bowl. When I turned again, sweat dripping down my face from exertion, stove heat, and terror, my father had disappeared. I glanced at the blank phone screen, figuring I’d be dealing with this one on my own.
I turned off the oven and the burners. After washing my hands, I poured a big glass of water, drank it, then poured another one and took it into the living room. Daddy was in his leather recliner, bourbon bottle in one hand, remote in the other. The TV sat dark and silent. I approached him slowly, like you might a rabid animal trapped in a barn.
“Daddy, here. Drink some water.”
He put the bourbon bottle to his lips and drank that instead. I sat on the couch, watching him. No sounds came from the upstairs rooms. I got up, thinking I’d check on Mama.
“Stop,” my father said behind me.
I did.
“You don’t even care, do you?”
My face flushed hot. I heard the slur in his voice. My parents were not hard-core drinkers. That bourbon bottle had probably been a Christmas gift, and been sitting in the liquor cabinet for months. Deciding that silence might serve me better, I kept my mouth shut.
Daddy pointed at me, one eye closed, one hand still clutching the neck of the bottle. “She’s dying, Angel. My Lindsay. My …” He lurched forward, scaring me. But he just got to his feet and starting stumbling around the room, muttering under his breath.
Furious at my brothers for having lives that kept them from appearing and assisting me with this, I eased the bottle from his grasp and lowered him onto the couch. He was cursing a blue streak, which surprised me.
“I wish she loved you more,” he finally said, putting a heavy hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know what happened.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, getting up to toss the bottle in the trash. When I got to the living room, he was where I’d left him, hands on his knees, face red, jaw locked. Before I could say or do anything he jumped up and ran down the steps to the lower family room then out onto the patio. I followed him, wondering how I might cajole him into the house and down onto one of the couches. He’d pass out, I knew, given half the chance.
But he stripped off his shirt and dove into the pool, scaring me to death until I saw him emerge at the far end, wiping his eyes and shaking out his hair.
My phone buzzed with a message from Bobby. “What’s up?”
I stared at it, confused until I realized I must have sent him the same text I sent my brothers.
“Can you come over? My daddy’s in a bad way.”
“Be right there,” he said.
I dropped the phone when I saw Daddy dip beneath the water again. Something seemed pretty final about that move, even though in my logical brain I knew better. I felt Dom’s Harley pull in, the distinct exhaust noise rumbling through my chest and head. He overran the drive, making me think first “Mama’s gonna be pissed about her lawn,” then yell at him when he jumped off and let it drop onto its side.
“He’s under, the deep end.”
Dom shucked off his hat and dove in fully clothed. I ran to the side, trying to make heads or tails of the roiling and thrashing going on under the water. I leaned forward, hoping to grab onto one of them when Dom forced him Daddy up and to the surface. If Bobby hadn’t shown up just then and hung onto me, I would’ve ended up in the pool with them.
We dragged a spluttering, cursing Anton out onto the concrete. Dom pulled him all the way onto the grass with little effort and threw him down, hard. “What the fuck, old man?” He swiped at his face, glaring down at Daddy while I knelt beside him. “Jesus, this family …” He stomped toward the house, not waiting for a reply.
Daddy lay there, blinking up at the bright blue sky as if hypnotized by it. I patted his shoulder, unsure what to do or say, whether I should leave him alone or worry he’d try and drown himself again.
“I wasn’t gonna drown,” he said. He rolled onto his side and then went up on all fours, his head hanging, water dripping onto the grass. “God damn it,” he muttered.
“What is it?” I asked, taking a seat on the grass next to him. I had never seen my father lose it that way, and I was bone-deep terrified about what he was going to say.
He sat, facing me. The October evening was hot. I kept plucking blades of grass for something to do with my hands while I waited for him to speak. I watched his lips move, heard the words come out. But my brain would not accept it. I jumped up and ran for the house. Daddy caught up with me while I was trying to yank open the sliding glass door, blinded by tears, choking on the bullshit he’d just told me.
“Honey, stop. C’mon, settle down, okay?” He pulled me into his sopping wet embrace and I let him. “We’ll fight it, of course. She’s not giving up, you know that.” He let go of me and tilted my face up to meet his gaze. “She doesn’t want anyone to know until after the party.”
“Fuck that,” I spit out. “The boys need to know …”
“It’s her call, Angel. Don’t tell them. We will, in our way and time. The hysterectomy needs to be done, probably next week.” He looked down at his feet, then up at me, gripping my arms tight. “Be strong. I’m sorry for that.” He jerked his chin toward the pool. “I was just …”
“You were just being human,” I said, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my nose into his damp undershirt. “Daddy,” I muttered, letting tears flow again. “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” he said, holding me close, soothing me as he had done so many times in my life. “I know.”
Chapter Ten
The Halloween party started off a mite shaky.
Mama had a tense moment with her passel of future daughters-in-law early on, when Rosie showed up with her grumpy little boy, Jeff, to help decorate. That super-bitch Melinda, Kieran’s woman, and Renee Reese, who’d been the cause of a fair bit of brotherly strife in years past, were already there. Why, I had no idea, since neither of them lifted a finger to help. I got everyone iced tea when asked, then resumed my task of putting the kids’ gift bags together.
Once things got underway, it calmed—at least as calm as a yard, barn, and tent full of parents and their kids high on candy could be. Love family Halloween parties were legend in our town, and this year would be no exception.
I kept an eye on Mama, noting her every wince or sigh or moment she “just had to sit a minute.” Worry niggled at me, but I’d promised Daddy I’d let them tell my brothers when they were ready. Although I knew it had to be soon, considering.
I was bringing the bushel basket full of parting gift bags into the party tent when Aiden raced in, looking frantic. He spoke with Antony and Rosie, who were wearing Peter Pan and Tinker Bell getups, and would get my vote for the cutest couple’s costume. Especially since my huge, manly brother was wearing green tights and even if Rosie’s outfit looked a little slutty, by her own admission.
All the kids jumping around me trying to get at the stuff I was carrying distracted me. When I looked over at the corner where they’d been, only Antony remained. His shoulders and arms were tensed. His hands balled into fists.