Page 50 of A Little Bit Whiskey
“I’m not sure. When do you expect Dad home?”
“Depends on if he’s winning or losing,” his mom said. “But I suspect within the next hour. Should I have him call you?”
“I’ll text him. Thanks, Ma. And lock the doors, okay?”
“I will. Love you, Noir.”
“Love you too, Mom.” He shot off a quick text to his father.
His dad responded immediately.
Dad:I have copies of every single check and what it was meant for. I can swing by tonight, or we can go over it all in the morning.
Noir:Morning will be fine.
Dad:The showcase is in two days. We’ll be up early. You text me when you’re ready.
Noir showed Tamsyn the message string.
“Of course your dad has a record of everything.” She pushed the papers across the counter. “I’m tired. I don’t want to think about this anymore.”
“Let’s get you to bed.”
“I’m not in the mood for that either.”
He raised his hands. “I meant so you can sleep. I’m not expecting anything. We live together now. We don’t have to have sex every night. I’m not that big of a horndog.”
“Oh yes, you are, and if you tried, I’d cave and I just don’t want to do that.” For the first time in a long while, tears dribbled down her cheeks. They came hard and fast. She covered her mouth. “No. I don’t want to do this either.”
“But you need to.” He lifted her off the stool and carried her to bed. Hugging her close, he let her purge the emotions from her body.
And they weren’t silent.
They were guttural.
They tore at his soul and broke his heart.
13
TAMSYN
Tamsyn wrapped her arms around Noir, snuggling in as close as possible, tucking her legs in behind his, enjoying the way their bodies fit.
Last night he hadn’t said anything. He held her in his strong, loving arms and let her expunge all the pain she’d been holding in for twenty years.
Crying wasn’t something she did. Being a master of her emotions was something she prided herself on. She’d learned at a very young age not to show them. She didn’t want her mother to worry. She didn’t want anyone to know how scared she was every single day of her life.
After her mother disappeared, it became a necessity to survive in this town. The constant ridicule. The stares. The snickers. The mean remarks from children and grown-ups alike.
And it didn’t stop with the townspeople.
She had to endure it occasionally in the place she called home.
Whether Fred and Anna wanted to admit it, or even realized what they were doing, they too said things about her mother they shouldn’t have. Or said them when they didn’t think she was listening.
Things like how her mother wasn’t fit to be a parent.
That she never loved Tamsyn enough, or she would have given her up when she’d been born.
