Page 24 of Trouble in Love
“Why can’t you just let me be, Holly? I’m freaking tired.”
“Because you need to pack, Pol. Mum’s had a fall. We need to go home.”
“There’s a good chance she did this on purpose, Holly. She’s been at me for years to come home, and now she’s suddenly geriatric, falling downstairs and smashing her hip, just as I have a date—shit.” I pulled my lips between my teeth and closed my eyes.Please don’t let her hear that.
“You have a date!”
Ididhave a date, and at any moment, my Cowboy would beckon me to his bed. The right thing to do would have been to call or at least send a message to inform him about the family emergency. But once again, my resolve fell short. I couldn’t stand the thought of letting him down, so I decided it was better to wait and hope he cancelled on me first.
I didn’t want my sister to know that, though.
“Holly. I’m disgusted. I just accused Mum of self-harm to prompt a guilt visit, and all you picked up on was that I may or may not have had a date.”
“That’s right, little sis. Now spill.”
“Nope. Sorry. I’m blinded by my concern over poor Mum and utter disappointment in you.”
The car briefly veered into the gravel as her giggles forced Holly’s eyes to close. “Cut the crap, Plop. Just tell me or when Mum wakes up, I’ll tell her about your planned night of sin and debauchery.”
It was my turn to laugh, and I did. “That’s fucking low. Especially since your daughter’s in the back seat.”
Again, we swerved as Holly’s head pinged back and forth over her shoulder. “Shit. I forgot she was here.”
“Huh, andI’mthe bad one.”
Jokes concerning sex revelations, and an invalid mother were fine, but one self-deprecating crack killed the mood. An uncomfortable silence settled over us. My sister tried to break it, but she seemed unsure of how to approach it. She stopped and started, ummed and ahed. It was fucking annoying and dragged on for hours until we pulled into the private yard at the back of my parents’ pub. “Polly. I just want to say this before we go in. You know how mum used to, and still kind of does, paint me as the good one and you as the—”
“Devil?” I finished.
“No. Asnot thegood one. You know it’s a load of crap, don’t you? I’m not good. You’re not bad.”
“Aren’t I, though? I think most people would disagree with you.”
“Most people can get bent. They don’t know you like I do, and they forget that when hurt, good people, even Mum, can do—”
“Some fucked up shit?”
“Polly!” Holly snapped, her hands gripping the pleather steering wheel. “You have to stop putting yourself down all the time.” Thankfully, her lecture was cut short by Dad’s heavy footprints crunching on the gravel drive and blinding security lights cutting through the dreary pre-dawn sky.
White fingertips, palms, and a smiling but weary face pressed against the fogged glass. “Is that my girls?”
“Poppy!” Freshly awake, Piper’s sleepy voice called out to her beloved Pa. In a flash, he’d whipped open the rear door and pulled her from her car seat.
“My darling. Look how big you are! What is your mummy feeding you?” Propping Piper on his hip, he opened Holly’s door and hustled around to mine. My bare feet had barely touched the cold ground before I joined Piper, trapped in his warm embrace. My dad, Murray, was the living embodiment of joy. He smiled constantly, laughed freely, and loved wholeheartedly. How he ended up with a piece of work like Constance Giannopoulos was one of life’s great mysteries.
“We didn’t expect you to be up, Dad,” I mumbled into the warmth of his burly chest. Dad was a big man—tall but round like one of the kegs of beer he taught me to tap when I was still in kindergarten.
“Can’t sleep without your mother here. She might be a royal pain in the ass, but she is my pain in the ass.”
“Aww. That’s what Reece says about me,” Holly chuckled as she joined in on the cuddle and breathed in Dad’s familiar scent, just like I was.
As one, we waddled our way into the family house that sat within spitting distance of the pub. Separating as we entered the kitchen, we shuffled down the long hall, into the lounge and, flopped into what had to be the world’s comfiest sofa. Nothing in the tiny little house had changed. It was a living, breathing time machine that smelled amazing, even with the odd combination of beer, lavender, and Dad’s perennial favorite, Old Spice. The carpet, though replaced over the years, remained the same poo brown Holly and I had always hated, and the ugly creme drapes Mum had proudly made herself lined the windows.
I’d grown up here, worked here, and for a good chunk of time, felt I’d never leave. In truth, if I hadn’t made the decisions I had, I probably wouldn’t have.
Holly grabbed a pillow and tucked her feet under her bum. “Is Mum doing okay? Are they still doing the surgery?”
“First thing tomorrow,” Dad whispered as Piper snuggled under her poppy’s chin, already snoozing. “They’re placing a pin, or screws, in to hold the bone together while it heals. She’s going to be off her feet for a while.” As much as he could with a small human attached to him, he then turned to me, and I knew what was coming. “Could do with your help behind the bar, Plop. Your old man can’t do it by himself anymore.”
