Page 47 of The Candle Palace (Jamison Valley 6)
“Of course it didn’t work. You just sat there!” I shoved away from the table, standing and pacing the length of the dining room, sidestepping the lettuce all over the floor. “Thanks for the support.”
The intervention with Denny had turned into me versus him. And guess what side Mom had taken?
“What did you expect me to say?” she snapped.
“Um, anything would have been better than you sitting there and chain-smoking.”
“He wouldn’t have listened to me.”
“We don’t know that,” I shot back.
“He’s my son. I know.”
“Fine.” I tossed up my hands. “It was your idea for me to come here so we could confront Denny together. Clearly you needed me to be the bad guy. Well, mission accomplished, Mom. Instead of talking to him in a united front, you made me the evil older sister.”
The dinner had started out . . . okay. I’d been tense, waiting for a minute before starting the conversation. Then Mom had given me a small nod and I’d started things off as we dished up the Caesar salad I’d brought over.
Denny, we are worried about you.
We know you’re using.
We love you and want to get you some help.
He glared at me for five excruciating heartbeats, then the bowl of salad went flying into the wall.
Mom screamed. I flinched so hard I pulled a muscle in my side.
Denny stood up, fists on the table, bent and shouted in my face.
You don’t know anything about me or my life.
I’m just that disappointing kid Dad never wanted and the brother you forgot existed.
I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.
I tried my best to remain calm. I nodded and said sorry. Then asked if he wouldn’t consider rehab for me, then to do it for Mom.
Denny point-blank asked Mom, “Do you think I have a problem?”
All she had to say was yes.
She stayed silent.
There was more yelling after that. Denny told me to get the fuck out of his house. That I didn’t live here anymore. When I didn’t immediately run for the door, he swiped up his can of beer and marched out himself.
I’d never been told fuck you in place of a good-bye before.
“None of this would have happened if your dad had been there for him.”
My feet froze and then I spun slowly toward Mom. “What did you just say?”
“Your dad was never there for Denny.”
I gaped at her. Was she joking? Dad had done all he could for Denny, but she had refused to give him up. She’d known she was the lesser parent, but still, she’d kept her hooks in Denny, making sure he’d known that if he left, she’d be heartbroken.
“Dad did everything he could for Denny. You were the one who wouldn’t let him come home to Spokane. You were the one responsible for him. You will not run Dad down. You will not put the blame on him. He was . . .” I swallowed down the angry tears. “He was the best father I could have ever asked for. He wanted to do more for Denny but you spoiled him so completely rotten there was nothing he could do. He tried to come and get Denny five times, remember? And Denny wouldn’t go. If this is anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”
Mom’s eyes widened. She raised her shaking fingers to her lips to pull a drag from the cigarette, then she blew it out in a thin, angry white line. “Your father never wanted Denny.”
