Page 59 of Brenna, Brat

“Well, thanks,” I said, but my guard was up. Her words had been nice, but I also felt as if there was something in those statements that hadn’t been a compliment.

“I mean, everything you design is for you,” she said. “Exactly for you.”

“Yes, I sew what I like,” I snapped back, and Addie tugged my arm.

“I want to talk about this issue with Campbell,” she said quietly, but I certainly wasn’t going to share my problems in front of Grace. Instead, we discussed packing and where our youngest sister was going to move (which I said had to happen immediately). Then Addie brought up Sophie’s concerns about Dad.

“What’s Mom up to?” she wondered, and Grace answered.

“She wants to get back together with him. Of course,” our little sister stated. “She’s going to try make it happen. Forcing all the arguments between the lawyers hasn’t worked, so she’ll do something else.”

We looked at her. “I had guessed that Mom kept fighting over everything because she wanted to stay tied to him,” Addie said slowly. “It’s acrimonious, but it’s something.”

“What is she going to do next?” I asked Grace, but she only shrugged.

“I’m not a mind reader,” she told me, and I told her to put down the dress, that it was mine and she was not removing it from this workroom.

I managed to avoid Nicola for the rest of the week, because I was sure that Addie had told on me to her, and that she would also want to try and discuss the “issue” between me and Campbell. I ignored Sophie, too, because I didn’t want to talk anymore about Dad and Mom’s actual issues.

As it turned out, ignoring the problems, both real and imagined, was a mistake.

We were packing Campbell’s car to drive up north when things started to go bad. Previously, I had been smiling and whistling. Seriously, I’d been whistling as I carried my bag from my car to put in his trunk. The service center at the dealership had, after an extended period, fixed his poor vehicle so that it was almost back to normal, with just a slight odor of weed to remind us that it had been stolen and in the hands of criminals for a while.

“It reminds me of my dorm in college,” Campbell had reminisced when I’d gone with him to pick it up. “Not that I, personally, ever did anything like smoking marijuana. It’s illegal in that state.” He’d smiled at me at the time and he was doing it again now, as he put a cooler into the back seat. It was as if a burden was lifting away as our departure neared and he was getting the chance to escape, at least for a little while. I grinned at him, ridiculously happy that we were going away together. It was a sign of something, wasn’t it? You didn’t want to travel with someone unless she really meant something to you. It was how you might travel with a good friend—that was all I meant.

I was so happy to see him relaxed, and it was a beautiful summer day that promised to bring a beautiful summer weekend. Yes, I was concerned about wearing my bikini, but things couldn’t have been much better.

And then, unfortunately, they did start to turn. “Ugh,” I sighed as my phone suddenly overheated with texts. “Something’s going on at my mom’s house. She and Dion are both having fits.”

“You better come! Now!” he had written, and she told me that it was just so inconvenient, and I had been the one who suggested that she take in a boarder. According to her, it was my responsibility to fix this. Immediately.

“I don’t understand what’s going on because neither of them are coherent,” I said, “but they’re both repeating that they need me to go there. They’re writing that a lot. My mom’s house isn’t on our way…”

Campbell shook his head. “It’s not too far. We’ll swing by and then get right on the Southfield Freeway. It won’t take too long and it’s not a problem.”

I sat in the passenger seat wondering why he was so easygoing, and deciding that it was a lucky thing for me since there was almost always something happening with my family that wasn’t going easily. It was nice that he could roll with things, and there was more to roll with when we arrived at my former home. Dion was on the front lawn with a bag when we turned into the driveway and Campbell parked next to my dad’s car.

My dad’s car?

“Hey,” Dion said as he opened the newly replaced back door. He tossed his bag next to the cooler and slid into the seat. “What do you have in there? Anything good? I could use a beer.”

We both turned around to stare at him. “Dion, what are you doing?” I asked. “Why did you get in?”

“Didn’t you come here to pick me up? Didn’t you see what I wrote?”

“‘Now,’” I read aloud from my phone. “‘Yr mom says go now. Where are u. Brenna! Help!’” I looked at him. “How was I supposed to interpret that?”

“Just like I said! I need to get out of here because they don’t want a third,” he told me. “Let’s leave.”

“What?” I asked.

“Things are weird because Mom invited Dad over for a few days,” he said, speaking slowly. “Fuck, Brenna, hop on the brain train.”

“Are you speaking aboutmyparents?” I asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” he said, and messed with an air vent. “They need privacy. This is a nice car, bro,” he told Campbell.

“They need…” I couldn’t seem to continue, but Campbell stepped in.

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