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“He’s my dad’s only sibling. There’s eight years between them, but they were super close growing up,” I said, my mouth feeling dry as I talked about the one man I never wanted to discuss. “He never had a family, so he’d always come over our house for holidays and birthdays and stuff.”
Then Brett said something I wasn’t expecting: “You got even quieter after he showed up. Why?”
Shit. Of course Brett had noticed. He seemed to notice things no one else did. I tried in vain to come up with a plausible solution as to why I’d gotten quieter, but when I couldn’t think of anything, I simply said, “I don’t know. I guess I just wasn’t expecting him. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in… a year? Maybe a year and a half? Things are just different now.”
Brett watched me, and since I wasn’t inside his head, I didn’t know if he believed my excuse or not. It didn’t matter if he did or didn’t. I wouldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t. I knew for a fact he’d look at me differently, and I didn’t want him to.
I didn’t think I could take it. Right now, Brett was the only thing keeping me alive.
“You better be telling me the truth, Charlie,” Brett whispered. “I think we’re past the point of lying to each other now.”
Giving him a smile, I started the car. As the engine roared to life, I said, “I’m not lying, Brett. If something was wrong, I’d tell you.”
Thankfully, Brett dropped it, and I drove us home. And by home, I meant I dropped him around the block so he could walk to the treehouse himself. Getting to and from the city took a half hour. Add that to the time we’d spent in the car, and it was damn near forty-five minutes later—definitely long enough for Uncle Dave to leave.
And long enough for my parents to think I went inside Brett’s place and… well, you know. If he really did live close by, there was no reason for it to have taken forty-five minutes.
I was in the process of thinking up some excuse to tell my parents as to why I’d been gone so long that I didn’t even notice a certain truck was still in the driveway when I pulled in. It was only when I put my car in park and shut it off that I realized it, and once my eyes zeroed in on that truck, my stomach lurched.
What the hell was he still doing here?
Steeling myself, I got out of my car and walked to the front door. I pushed inside, immediately hearing voices upstairs. After slipping my shoes off and hanging up my keys, I cautiously took to the steps.
What on earth could they be doing upstairs? I tried to think of an answer, but my mind came up blank. As it turned out, the truth was a whole lot worse than anything I could’ve imagined.
Claire’s old room was open, the light on inside. My mom walked out of the room with an unhappy expression on her face, her lips drawn into a thin line and her eyes somewhat squinted. When she saw me, she brightened and said, “Hey, honey.”
“Mom, what’s going on?” I tried to peer into Claire’s old room, but I couldn’t see past her. When my sister had officially moved out after college, she’d taken all her stuff with her, except the bed and the dresser. She’d splurged on a new set for herself, leaving the bare bones in her old room.
My parents had always wanted to make it a spare bedroom, but just never got the time—their excuse, anyway, because really, how much time did it take to buy new sheets, a few pillows, and get it set up? Not long at all.
“Oh, you’ll have to ask your father about that,” she told me, cluing me in to the fact that, whatever was going on, she didn’t approve of. She always called Dadyour fatherwhen she didn’t agree with him on whatever it was.
She said not a word more, heading across the hall to the bathroom and shutting the door, which allowed me to finally see into the room. I spotted a few suitcases resting near the dresser, and when I stepped inside the room, I found my dad and Uncle Dave talking near the closet. The bi-fold door was open, revealing an empty interior, save for a few forgotten hangers.
When I entered, their conversation ceased, and they both turned their heads to me. My dad wore a smile, while Uncle Dave only smirked. Seconds ticked by, and I knew with certainty I wasn’t going to like this at all.
“What’s going on?” I asked, barely able to muster up the courage. “Why is Uncle Dave still here?” I didn’t care that he was right there, that I was talking about him like he wasn’t in the room. My bedroom was literally right next door, so I had every right to know.
But I had the feeling I already knew.
My dad set a hand on Uncle Dave’s shoulder. “Dave, uh, has run into some bad luck lately. His shop had to shut down, and he needs a place to stay while he figures out what he’s going to do next. I figured we have this empty room that hasn’t seen use since Claire moved out, so…” He glanced at his brother.
Uncle Dave took it upon himself to finish, “So I’m moving in.”
Those four words struck a chord in me, and I stood there for a while, my mouth falling open, my mind trying to think of a response that would make my dad see just how awful an idea this was. But nothing came, and I probably looked like an idiot.
My dad must’ve sensed I wasn’t too thrilled with the news—which would be an epic understatement—because he let go of his brother’s shoulder and walked over to me. “Charlie, you’ll barely notice he’s here. It’s just temporary.”
That was a lie, and the only people who knew it were me and Uncle Dave.
“Come on, Charlie,” Uncle Dave spoke, his hands on his hips. “It’ll be fun. Just like the good old days.” He flashed a toothy grin my way, and it took everything in me to not double over and vomit up everything I’d had for dinner.
“I’m, uh, pretty tired,” I lied. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” I didn’t wait for either of them to say it back, but Uncle Dave’sg’night, Charliefilled me with a sense of dread nothing else could.
Once I made it to my room, I shut the door and locked it, and then I stood there with my hands flat on the wood, struggling to control my breathing. I swore I could feel beads of sweat gathering on my hairline and oozing down the sides of my face. My vision blurred, and not from tears. More like my eyes unfocused.
Oh, no. This couldn’t be happening. This couldnotbe happening. What the hell was I going to do? I couldn’t live with Uncle Dave. I couldn’t sleep while knowing he was right next door, so close.
