Page 107 of Strange Lad

Veronica is here. I hear her loud giggle through the door, and her car is parked next to Dad’s old pickup. I haven’t seen my older sister in a long time. Honestly, I can’t even remember the last time because I was high as fuck.

Clenching my fists, I hover on the porch, debating what the hell I’m doing. I’ve avoided coming here for as long as I can, ashamed of myself and worried I’ll let my parents down again. What if I relapse after all this? What if I’m not strong enough to file the report?

Endless what-ifs keep me frozen solid until the door opens. I gasp, startled. Mom sees me, and her eyes well up with tears. “Oli? Oh, baby,” she coos and launches at me.

Pinpricks settle over my skin, the familiar dread crawling up my throat, demanding that I free myself of her embrace, but I shake it off and hug my mom. Her hands pat me down, her lips peck my scruffy cheek, and she cries in my arms.

“How are you? You look so good!” she squeals and then shouts, “Brandon! Veronica!”

I hear my dad’s gruff voice coming from the living room. “I’m coming. Give me a damn second to get my cane.”

Veronica peels around the short foyer, my niece—who I’ve yet to meet—perched on her hip. Delilah is all curls, just like her dad. She literally tosses her baby at Mom and pulls me in for a bear hug. “You little shithead. Where have you been?”

I wheeze, not used to this much touching. “Around,” I croak.

“Not around here!” She releases me and slaps my shoulder.Hard.The kind of slap only a big sister is allowed to give you.

“Ow,” I whine, rubbing the sting away. “I meant to call, but—”

“Oliver,” Dad barks, and I go ramrod straight. My shoulders yank back like I’m in the damn army, and my sergeant just caught me doing something bad.

“Dad,” I say around the lump in my throat.

He studies me for long seconds, swooping his gaze over my entire body. “About damn time you showed up.”

“I—”

He holds up his free hand, leaning heavily on his cane. Nyx told me that he uses it more for his arthritis than his back these days, but it still hurts to see my dad so vulnerable. I remember thinking he was a giant as a kid—indestructible. The greys streaking through his blond hair make it look more silver than yellow. His green eyes pin me in place, and I brace for whatever harsh words he throws at me. Out of everyone—except Phoenix—my dad is the most disappointed in me.

But something in his gaze softens, and he releases a relieved sigh. “Come give your old man a hug.”

“You’re not mad?” I squeak out, taking a hesitant step forward.

“Don’t make me say it again,” he huffs.

A watery smile breaks across my face as I hurry to him and hug him. Dad smells the same, like laundry detergent and cologne. Even in his sixties, his embrace feels strong. I squeeze him tightly, trying to fight back the sob building in my chest. It doesn’t work, and I break down.

“I’m sorry,” I cry.

“Emma, take this,” he grunts. And then both arms envelope me. “Twice now, I’ve had one of my kids break down on me. Am I really that terrible?”

I shake my head, unable to speak.

“It’s alright, kiddo. You’re alright.”

Dad holds me tight for long seconds before we enter the house.

Veronica immediately hands me her daughter, who I hold under her arms awkwardly. My sister huffs and shows me how to hold her. I’m ashamed to admit I’ve never been around for any of my nephews, so I don’t know how to do this.

Even when Damien's twins were little, I was already well past gone by then.

Once Delilah is settled in my arms, she reaches up and yanks at my beard. I hiss, reeling back, but her big brown eyes crinkle in delight.

“You little sadist,” I tell her and let her wrap her tiny fist around my finger.

“He looks good with a baby, doesn’t he?” Veronica sighs wistfully, looking at my parents.

“Sure does,” Mom beams. “So what have you been up to, hun?”

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