“Uh, okay.”
“Mom was fired from her job about a year after we lost Dad.”
“Then how does she?—”
“She was unemployed for a bit and thus on unemployment. She was eligible for a little money from the government for us until I turned eighteen, but she still gets it for you. We lived off that and their savings for a bit. When that ran dry, I got a job. She finally found another job, but it’s not as high-paying. It gets her by.”
“She can’t work her way up to a better job again?”
“She could, Dirk. But she … she’s using alcohol to drown her sorrows. Instead, it’s drowning her. That’s where a lot of her money goes.”
Fucking Christ, she doesn’t want to be helped, Dirk.The words seep across my mind again.
Knowing Hunt, he tried fucking everything he knew before he came to a conclusion like that.
“This was my fault. I shouldn’t have invited her. She wanted money; I should have told her to come by to grab it and leave itat that. I insisted that she stay for dinner, because I hoped things would be different. It’s not ever gonna be different, and I’m not subjecting you to that ever again. I’m sorry.”
Now he’s blaming himself, and that’s bullshit. He’s still giving her money, no questions asked, and what did she do? Complained about the amount. She doesn’t see the fallout, what it costs him emotionally. It makes me want to fucking punch something.
“You don’t owe her, Hunter.”
He shakes his head. “No, but you were right with what you said on the night we left. I need to help her, but I’ll do it from a distance.”
His mind’s made up, so I don’t argue, but I’m not so sure about what I said anymore. I still don’t want anything bad to happen to her, but I don’t know that giving her money is the answer. I can’t think of anything better, though.
“I’m gonna get a job,” I tell him. Maybe if I say it more forcefully, he’ll see that I’m serious about it.
“Over my dead body, kid.”
“Hunt—”
“Nope. Discussion closed. Don’t let what she said eat your brain; it was all a crock of shit. I’ll be looking after you until you’re old enough to look after yourself. It’s what Dad would have wanted, and her too if she were in her right fucking mind. But more importantly than all that, it’s what I want.”
I roll my eyes, and for some reason, the cake finally looks appetizing. “And I guess we just do whatever King Hunter wants, eh?”
“I take it back, not everything Mom said was a crock of shit. Let’s keep that one. From here on out, you’ll respond to all my decrees with ‘Yes, King Hunter’.” He smirks.
“Yeah, no chance of that happening.”
But I’m smiling again, and I think for Hunter that’s mission accomplished.
Dirk, Age 18
It’s been almost a year since Dash’s mom was found dead in their home. He’s not doing well, despite what he says. He’s been distant. I can’t imagine. I might not be on good terms with my mom, but I’ll be just as devastated when she’s gone. Being on bad terms almost makes death more complicated. Only Hunter remembers Dad’s death. I was too young to remember more than fuzzy film reels of him and the funeral. I was too little to feel the impact like Dash does. I spend enough time with him that Hunter breaks down and scolds me for it. I know he’s been holding back because he knows Dash needs me, but he has big rules about self-care thanks to what he went through with Mom.
He shakes his head when I grab my keys off the hook. “No. You’re staying in tonight.” He’s got that immovable air about him. Arguing is pointless.
“Just let me get him. Bring him here.”
“That’s not happening either. Dirk,” he warns when I’m about to protest. “I care about Dash, too, but you’re my priority. A little time on his own will be good for him.”
The more time he spends on his own, the more time he spends with Robin.
“Just tonight, Dirk. You don’t look so hot. You’ve been burning the candle at both ends.”
Hockey’s been intense with the scouts coming around, and Hunter makes me study my ass off for exams.
Unfortunately, Hunter’s sixth sense was right. I come down with a wicked flu.