Page 99 of There's No Us Without You
“How are you doing, kiddo?” Her brown eyes wrinkle at the corners, a warm smile on her face as she rubs my upper arms.
“Not dead,” I say matter-of-factly.
Jenny gives me a playful shove as she shakes her head. “I can always count on you to be the ever-charming pessimist.”
“Realist is more like it,” I say, lifting a shoulder.
“I see.” Jenny heads back to the cutting board and picks up the knife again. “And how’s that new housemate of yours working out?”
I’m not sure what sort of voodoo this woman practices, but she has a way of pulling information from me with just one look. It’s annoying as fuck, but I also don’t hate it. It’s kind of nice to have someone other than Emerson to talk to—not that we’ve done much of that lately.
The first week of Eden living with us, I managed to avoid her until I couldn’t. Thursday of the same week had me threatening Kent. When I saw Jenny the next day, she pried the details out of me.
Not my finest of moments, giving in the way I did, but Jenny just has this way about her. It’s comforting.
She’s been my dad’s live-in nurse since he had his accident one year, nine months, and four days ago. If it wasn’t for her, I would have let the bastard rot in a nursing home and not live out the rest of his days in his own house.
He doesn’t deserve to have someone care for him the way Jenny does.
I take a seat on a stool at the kitchen bench opposite her and fold my arms over my chest. “It’s fine,” I finally say, not wantingto go into detail about how I want her to beg for my cock—and Emerson to watch. “How’s... everything here?”
She glances up from the carrots she’s cutting, and sighs, her hand pausing mid-air. “Well,” she says, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead, “we’re on puree now. Solids were becoming too much.”
“Right.” I purse my lips as I nod my head, my eyes focused on the ugly brown laminate of the benchtop in front of me.
I don’t care enough to ask about him directly. Me coming here has become a habit, and... I like Jenny. She’s also the only mother figure I’ve had since Wren’s mum passed away five years ago.
Not once have I stepped foot inside his room since I moved out. The scent of liquor and stale urine has been etched into my brain from my younger years, so I’ll avoid it until my last breath.
“You know you should see him at least one time, Will.” Jenny places the cut-up vegetables into a pot, fills it with water, and places it on the stove to boil. Not once does she look at me.
I lean back in the chair. “I have nothing to say.”
“So why come here every Friday?”
“To see you.”
Smooth, dickhead.
Jenny shakes her head and laughs. “I’m flattered, but that’s not why you come here. All I’m saying is he won’t be around forever, and you may never get the chance to say what you need to say.”
“Well, today isn’t that day.” My voice is strained, the words getting caught in my throat.
With her hands on her hips, Jenny eyes me, a frown on her face, her lips pursed. “What about Tyler?” she says softly. “Have you told him yet?”
“No.” I clear my throat, glancing down at my hands fisted on my lap. “And I have no intention of doing so.”
“Jesus, Will.” Jenny blows out a breath. “You’re going to have to tell him soon.”
“Dad took off—that’s all he needs to know.”
Jenny reaches over the bench and places a warm hand on my shoulder. “Don’t you think he deserves to know the truth and have the chance to say goodbye?”
I slam my hands down, making her jump back. When I shove to my feet, the stool tips and slams into the vinyl floor. “What my brother deserves is a father who didn’t fucking beat him on a weekly basis. Or one that wasn’t so drunk every day that he could remember to make lunches, or wash his clothes, or... I don’t know, fucking love him.”
I’m breathless by the time I finish.
She knows nothing.
