Page 108 of Stolen Hearts
“Sure. Would be good to have you here,” I eventually respond.
The thought sends a shudder through me though, and I think of all the house rules I’ll need to ensure he follows so he doesn’t turn the place into a bachelor pad.
Christopher grabs my leg and squeezes tightly. Warmth lines the wrinkles of his eyes as he smiles.
“I’m grateful to see my two sons turning into men,” my mom chimes in. “Grateful you are both happy and healthy.” She reaches across the table to grab both of our hands.
“And I’m grateful to be alive.” My dad slurs his speech as he takes the last swig of beer from his bottle. It’s his seventh since arriving.
“Maybe you should lay off the beer and drink some water,” my mom says.
She release her grip on our hands to push the water jug toward him.
“And maybe you should quit telling me what to do.” He knocks the jug back toward her, sending it flying to the floor, and clenches his fists. His face is red and his eyes are bloodshot.
I need to deescalate this, to neutralize this war of words, but I can’t find the words.
“God, I’ve had it with you Bruce. I really have.”
My mom lifts the napkin from her lap and wipes the water from the table while I grab the jug, which thankfully had landed on the rug, preventing it from smashing.
“Well, thankfully you won’t have to put up with me for much longer, now that you’ve filed for divorce.” His words are no longer laced with fire, but with ice.
The jug drops from my hand back onto the rug.
Divorce? Did he just say divorce?
My mom sits frozen in place.
“You’re getting divorced?” Harrison directs his attention toward mom.
The expression on his face matches what must be written across mine.
Shock. Disbelief.
I sit back down and Christopher reaches for my leg again. He slowly rubs his thumb across it like a windscreen wiper.
“Bruce. What did we agree to?” She slams the napkin down on the table. The coldness in her voice matches his, matched with a stare that could bury him twelve feet under.
“We didn’t agree to anything, Carla.” He pushes his chair back from the table to stand up. “Youdecided it was best to sit down and tell the boys once everything was finalized. Once we’d worked out who would be living where.”
His fist slams down on the table, making us all jump, and he storms out of the room. I reach for the back of my neck and pull at the collar of the sweater, its tightness constricting my throat. My mind races to try and make sense of everything.
Is it because of what I said about David on the live stream?
Does Harrison moving out mean there’s nothing left to keep them together?
Are one, or both of them, having an affair?
My mom gets up and heads outside while Harrison digs into the food.
So much for a nice family Thanksgiving.
Friday
Christopher runs his fingers through my hair as I lay in his arms. The rain from the morning storm hits my bedroom window, but the warmth of his body helps soothe away the coldness I faced from my family yesterday.
The battle to convince my dad not to drive home, as he was in no fit state to drive.
