Page 44 of Roll With The Punches
Chapter Twelve
Brandon stopped in Emma’s doorway late Friday afternoon and watched as she packed her overnight bag. Jeff had arrived home a little before Brandon did, but Stuart wasn’t home yet, still elbows-deep inside an emergency repair with another guy from work.
He didn’t miss that Emma wasn’t taking much. “I really appreciate you doing this, sweetheart.”
“Sure,” she muttered.
During the week, Jeff and Stu had gently helped back Brandon about keeping Em focused on going tonight. “Your mom loves you.”
“She has a funny way of showing it. She’s not like you.”
Don’t blow this up. Be the adult.“Your mom and I are two totally different people, honey. Completely different personalities, and as we both grew up, we grew apart. That’s part of the reason why we got divorced. It wasn’t just because I finally came out. That was the final straw in a long string of differences between us.”
It wasn’t that simple, but it was a good enough answer.
“Pat is an asshole, Dad, and you can punish me for calling him that. I don’t care.” She finally turned. “Plus the Goober is supposed to be there this weekend. I’ll stay there tonight, but I’mnotstaying tomorrow night. I won’t spend the night in the house with him. I might not stay later than tomorrow morning, if Pat crawls up my butt.”
He stepped into the room. “Again, Ireallyappreciate you doing this. I know you don’t believe me, but one day you might thank me for making you do this.”
She glared at him.
“I didn’t say one daysoon.One day, when you can look back on all of this with some perspective and time. Maybe after you have kids of your own, if you do.”
She snorted. Not the first time she’d made that reaction concerning the topic of kids, but he also knew how life could throw curveballs. Sure, she hadn’t started dating yet, but she was only sixteen, she was hyper-focused on both academics and swimming, and she had an active social life with her friends. She’d be applying to colleges and for scholarships in the next couple of months.
He’d take the win and be happy he hadn’t had to put a beatdown on some poor boy who was stupid enough to think he could waltz through Brandon’s front door and slide a hand down Emma’s pants.
Not to mention he had Jeff and Stuart as backups.
“Have bail prepared in case I smack the Goober,” she darkly snarked.
“Prison orange isn’t your color, sweetheart.” That finally earned him a smirk. “Hey, at least I can still make you laugh.”
She walked over and hugged him. “I love you, Dad. I do love Mom, but that doesn’t mean I have to like her or Pat. Especially Pat. Life’s too short for me to force myself to spend time with her.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
She cocked her head as she looked at him. “Not really, no. She chose Pat over me. If she hadn’t sided with him so many times, especially in the Goober’s favor while walking all over me, maybe I’d feel different. There’s a double-standard. She’s more worried about losing Pat, or about what Pat thinks, or what Pat’s parents think, than she is about what’s best for me. That’s onher.”
“What if you hadn’t liked Jeff and Stuart?”
“I love both of them. I think they’re great.”
“But what if you hadn’t? Or, what if you hadn’t wanted me to date both of them. Would it be fair to ask me not to be with them?”
“That’s different.”
“Not really.”
She settled onto the bed. “It’stotallydifferent. Not liking Pat has everything to do with the fact that he’s a jerk. Or him making me redo washing the dishesthreetimes one night. More than once.”
She held up three fingers. “Three, Dad. I think in the years since you left Mom, you might have made me rewash threedishestotal. Or he tells me to make my bed when my bedwasmade, and I go in and find he’s yanked all the sheets and stuff off and told me it wasn’t done right.”
Brandon clamped down on his anger, wondering if Tracey had played him during their phone conversation. “What else has he done?”
“It’s not just what he’s done, it’s what Momhasn’tdone. She hasn’t stood up for me. Can I be mouthy? Yeah, I’ll own that. But that was only because I got tired of being accused of doing stuff I didn’t do, or he punished me arbitrarily. I don’t even think the Goober canspellarbitrarily, much less knows what it means.”
He couldn’t help it—it slipped out. “I’m not sure Pat does, either.”
