Page 36 of The Bronze Garza
He throws me a glance over his shoulder. “Excuse for what?”
“For being a miserable butthole.”
His reply is slow in coming, and I use the opportunity to check out the interior of the house. It doesn’t match the exterior. In here, it’s...woodsy. Like a sauna. Except rugged, and comfy. Warm. Clean and uncluttered.
Breathable.
Huh, I like it.
As we’re climbing a set of stairs, he at last replies, “You’re cutting into my vacation.”
“Then you should’ve said no.”
“I tried.” A scoff. “Didn’t expect either of you to actually agree to this.”
“Yeah, Dad seems to think you’re Jesus.”
In a bored, indifferent tone, he mutters, “Can’t imagine what I could’ve done to deserve such a thing.”
“You and me both.”
“And you?” he asks, leading us down a hall. “Why’d you agree to this?”
“To make him happy.”
He snorts. “Emotional manipulation. Your old man’s good at it.”
I follow him into a room at the left end of the hall.
Depositing my bags, he murmurs, “Here you are.” He scratches his eyebrow. “You’ve got a television with cable plus several streaming services. Air-conditioning. Pantry is stocked. You should be good. Yeah?”
“So quick to get rid of me,” I say, brushing my palm over the purple mandala print duvet.
It looks new. He must have went out and bought it for me. Dad probably told him purple’s my favorite color.
The room is a decent size, with a queen bed, a dresser, two nightstands with gold-shade lamps, and a lilac armchair in a corner that matches the lilac and gold sheer curtains. There’s also a cozy-looking built-in bench under the wide windows facing the backyard. “You’re not gonna show me around?”
“It’s a three-bedroom house, princess. Not a mansion. Ain’t much to see.” He gives me a condescending wink. “You won’t get lost, I promise.”
He’s out the door before I can formulate a retort.
That man has some serious issues.
I wander over to the windows and peer out at the backyard. It’s a big yard, edged with tall, fluffy trees. Big enough to fit a pool and a gazebo, and even a basketball court. But there’s nothing but green, all manicured grass and a garden.
On the far right, however, is a small log cabin with an older man sitting on the porch, reading a book. It looks odd and out of place with everything else, but nothing about this residence has been consistent thus far.
Backing away from the window, I get out my cellphone and pull upSpotify. Choose my favorite playlist, then prop it onto the dresser to play while I unpack.
I’d over-packed on purpose. Dad’s business trips always lasts longer than he says they will, so I know I’ll be here for more than “a few weeks.”
My life has become so damn weird.
All I’d wanted was a fun camping trip to bond with my best friend before she flew back to Brown. Instead my entire world got turned on its axis.
If only we could see the things life has in store for us, we wouldn’t waste so much of our time. We can never truly prepare for reality.
These days, I don’t plan, and I don’t think too hard. I just roll with the punches.
