AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So, you’ve told June how you feel then?” Jesse asks.
The urge to scuffle with my brother is strong, but I’m exhausted. Watching your father fade away isn’t easy. I don’t have the energy to argue with him tonight.
“You should tell her,” Jesse says.
“What are you, a relationship guru? I don’t feel anything. I can’t feel anything. Feelings lead to this kind of fucked up shit.” I gesture toward the house.
“I’m your brother. You’re not the only one who gives a shit about this family,” Jesse says. “I don’t get you, Cash. You’ve never been afraid of taking a shot. Fuck sakes, you were signed by a music label. You’re the bravest man I know.”
I was afraid of caring too much and collapsing when I ultimately wound up alone again. Whether it was because of a betrayal or because of something worse. Love ended in pain, and I couldn’t afford to be weak when I had a family to care for.
“She wants you,” Jesse says. “A blind man can tell. She’s wanted you since high school. I’m serious. You can’t live your life in limbo, brother. You can’t keep trying to force everything to be perfect and not allowing yourself to live until it’s how you want it. Besides, if you don’t ask her out soon, someone else will. Sometimes, you gotta roll with the punches.” He punches my arm.
I punch him back reflexively, and Jesse grins. He points at me. “You’re lucky I’m on duty or I’d whoop your ass.”
“In your imagination, you would. We both know who’s tapping out first.”
He laughs before returning to his squad car.
I get into the pickup and drive home. I hate to admit it, but my brother might have a point. Not about the ass whooping, I’ll always take him in a fight.
The house is dark when I pull up. June must be asleep.
On the way to bed, I stop in front of her door, listening hard, hoping she’s still awake. It’s quiet. I go to bed, consumed with thoughts of her, about what could have been tonight. Of what should be.
Twenty-Three
JUNE
“He likes tortilla chips,”Alex says with a stern frown. “And remember the fried pickles? He loved those.”
I pull a face. “I don’t know about fried pickles,” I say. “Those take a lot of effort to make.”
She gives me a suspicious look. “He liked them.”
“Alex, honey, I hate to break it to you, but your father only ate the fried pickles because you made them. He wouldn’t touch them otherwise.”
“Huh.” She fists her hips, looking cute as a button in a black skirt and Metallica T-shirt. This morning, she asked for my help weaving a bright purple ribbon into her hair.
“Do you have your letter?”
“Yeah.” Alex produces the pen pal letter she’s written for Daisy. I had her go through my letters from her father—except the one that I never sent—so that she could write one of her own. She’s ready to put it into Daisy’s mailbox, and she’s insisting we visit Cash at Chuckles Bar for a surprise picnic afterward.
For all her rocker chaos, Alex is pretty organized. She’s a joy this morning, and packs drinks into our picnic bag while I check the spreadsheet for anything I might’ve missed.
“Sunscreen?” I ask.
“Check.”
“Multivitamin.”
“Check.”
“Did you water the plants?”
“I’ll do it now!” And then she rushes out of the room. I laugh under my breath at her excitement. I wish I shared it.
I’m waiting to hear back about the consultation from the college advisors. I’ve filled in the booking form, and I’m ready. Apart from having the money for college tuition, of course, but I’m hoping they can help advise me on that too.
