“Fuck!” Tyler grumbles, following the directions. The officer continues his speech, placing a pair of cuffs tightly around his wrists. “Do you have any idea who my father is? Do you have any idea what he'll do to you for arresting me?”
His words are ignored as the police officer pulls him towards his vehicle. Tyler's tantrum grows louder at the same time he's guided into the back seat. I turn on my heels and allowing myself to smile proudly at the service I just did.
One more asshole off the streets and out of my face is a service. That felt much fucking better than beating the shit out of him. So much fucking better.
Jovi
“Thanks Hayli,” I sigh dropping the newly taped box beside the others close to my closet.
Packing the things I use the least makes the most amount of sense. No need to be one of those last minute packers.
“Yeah.” She lets down her hair that's been pinned up all day. “No problem. I mean...helping ship my best friend off isn't the ideal way I wanted to spend my day, but there are worse ways I suppose.”
On a little giggle I shake my head. “Drama queen.”
“Watch it before you're packing the next batch alone,” she threatens.
She's full of shit. You know that right?
The two of us exit my bedroom and start towards the stairs. “You sure you don't wanna grab dinner or something really fast?”
“I'm sure,” Hayli replies. Quickly she drops her voice down to a whisper, “Besides I'm sure there's a street racer in mourning who is craving you for dinner.”
I blush at the same time I smirk.
Haven't seen him since we left yesterday and have barely had time to talk to him. Between car shopping that felt pointless, packing, and Hayli insisting I focus on her instead of my phone we've hardly even texted. No, he hasn't snapped back into his normal self quite yet, which is fine. He needs this time to mourn. I just...I don't know. I don't wanna lose him. I don't know if I can live without him. Scratch that. I know I can't.
“I'm working tomorrow, but wanna do something Thursday?”
Now would be a terrible time to tell her I'm getting married huh?
“I think I have plans that day, but I'll double check.”
“Sounds good.”
We hug and she disappears out the front door right as my phone vibrates.
Quickly I check the message.
Fiance: FIL still home?
Giggling at the shorthand I type back.
Me: Yes. I'll let you know the minute he's gone.
Fiance: Need you.
Me: Need you too. Soon.
Fiance: Not soon enough.
A deep exhale leaves me and I smile softly.
Looks like there's a touch of the old Merrick still in there.
I head for the kitchen where I'm guessing Nadie is. Rounding the corner, I'm thankful to see her scraping cookies off a pan, a small burnt smell lingering in the room.
At the sight of me she whines, “Why cookies? Why can't I ever bake them right?”
“At least you can bake them,” I counter. “You've seen what happens when I try.”
“Yeah.” A look of disgust on her face. “Your mother would weep at the sight of the those things you have the nerve to call cookies.”
The mentioning of my mother stings unexpectedly.
Ever since Ben's funeral yesterday, I've been thinking back to hers. Wondering if she would approve of the woman I'm trying to become. Of Merrick. Of Nadie raising me. I wonder if she would loathe what my father's turned into like I am beginning to. I wonder if she would be upset he didn't go after Nadie like he should've. For a good portion of the night that's all my brain could seem to wrap itself around. Needless to say I didn't get much rest.
Nadie puts the spatula down. “You okay?”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Just a little tired. It's been a long few days.”
“Why don't you take a minute and rest?”
“Need to finish packing a couple things before I call it a day.” After she nods, I ask, “Hey, where are the photo albums? I was hoping to take a couple with me. Ya know, in case I get homesick.”
Nadie's done a great job keeping actual albums as much as online ones. I guess that's her art craft. Ya know everyone has something. Even you. Even if you don't think you do.
“Which ones? The ones with your mom or after her?”
The question makes me shift uncomfortably. “Both?”
“Photo albums with pictures after her are in the living room in the bottom drawer of the coffee table. Before her are in your father's office. Second book case, second shelf.”
I hate how he does shit like that. Nadie doesn't deserve it. As much as I miss my mom and wonder what life would be like if she were still here, every now and again, she's not. I've accepted it. I've dealt with it. He's needs to too. Not put up walls to keep Nadie at bay. To keep himself from moving on. To keep us all from moving on.
“Thanks.”
I turn my heels to exit when she questions, “You do know he's in there, right?”
“Yeah...”
“You ready for that?”
With a shrug I answer, “As ready as I'm ever gonna be.”
“I'm here for you Jo'.”
You too? Thanks. Have I told you I appreciate that?
Nervously I approach my dad's office door. Instead of taking the two steps back my gut tells me I should, I push forward and stroll into the room that's never felt warm.
Today it feels extra chilly. Not quite arctic, but cold enough I feel I need a sweater. You got one I can borrow?
To my left are the wooden bookshelves, I know I need to grab the photo album from. To the right a long leather couch and coffee table with files stacked on it. Right in front of me, two seats in front of a large cherry wood desk covered in papers with him hovering over it rather than sitting.
Before I have the chance to ask about the photo albums, he snaps his head up from the photo he was staring at. His entire body seems to tense. Carefully he places the photo down and slides a hand in his pocket, eyes stuck on me.
“Yes?”
He really is almost always this impersonal. Well, that is of course unless he's making tyrant demands on how to conduct my life.
“I just..I just came to grab a couple photo albums to take with me.”
He nods. “Packing?”
“Yes.”
He nods again this time sliding his other hand into his pocket. “Is that what you and Hayli have done all day?”
“That and argue over how to decorate my new room. I'm all for simple colors and she seems to think I need to be a little more adventurous.”
He mumbles under his breath, “That's the last thing you need.”
Oh look. He's ready to fight. Wish me luck.
“Why? Because I was friends with Ben?”
“Is that all you were?” The accusation reminds me of Tyler's.
Scowling, I snap back, “Pretty sure I wasn't involved with him that way, but even if I was, that would've been my choice.”
“No,” he quickly denies. “You don't get to make those types of choices Jo'.”
“Who to date? I don't get to choose who I date?”
“I don't want you dating.”
“Well tough shit dad!”
Oh...Oh I could've said that better.
“Excuse me?”
“You don't get to pick who I date. Or who I fall in love with. Or my friends. I'm an adult.”
“An adult who lies to her father?”