Page 11 of See You in Your Dreams

His words shouldn’t cut as deep as they do. It’s nothing I haven’t heard from him before. But that doesn’t stop the heavy shame they leave in their wake.

Because as much as he’s an asshole, Tommy’s right about one thing—it’smyfault Dad left. I’m the reason our family’s so broken—why Tommy had to drop out of school and why Mom has to work herself to the bone to support us. Which is also why it’s on me to do what little I can to make it better.

I force myself to go through the motions of preparing dinner. I don’t follow through on my promise to teach Patrick—maybe another night. Game sounds echo from the living room, so either he got distracted anyway or he’s doing his best to drown out the world right now just like I am.

Tommy finishes his shower, and I tense when he comes back into the kitchen. There’re only two modes of interaction we have left at this point—fighting or avoidance. Thankfully, he seems to have opted for the latter. He grabs a beer from the fridge, completely ignoring me where I stand by the stove. I start to relax, focusing on prepping the remaining chicken to go into the oven.

I should’ve known better than to let down my guard.

Tommy pauses in the doorway, glancing back at me. “You’re as bad asheis. You realize that, right? You’ve already got one foot out the door of this place. Hope it’s worth leaving the rest of us behind.”

I stare after him, my gut churning with something close to hate. I amnothinglike our deadbeat dad who’d peaced out to strike it big as a musician and now couldn’t even afford to keep up with his monthly child support.

Yet, as I get the breaded chicken into the oven and start a pot of water boiling for the pasta, Tommy’s words burrow into my brain like a parasite.

Am I making the same choice Dad did?

I’ve dreamed of being a vet for as long as I can remember. But how can I justify spending all that money to go away to college when Mom needs it so much more? I’ve seen the overdue bill statements she tries to hide, the lines of worry around her eyes. Even with Tommy’s job and my own meager contributions, we’re barely making enough to keep the house as it is.

How can I take the money in my college fund and peace out, leaving them high and dry for however many years it takes me to graduate?

I’m good and lost in my head while I put the finishing touches on dinner when I hear the front door click open. Mom bustles into the kitchen a few moments later, collapsing into a chair with an exhausted groan. “God, it feels good to get off my feet. Hey, baby. Come give your momma a kiss. She sure as hell needs it after tonight.”

Grinning weakly, I kiss her on the cheek before returning to juggling plates and dish components. “What happened?”

She waves her hand. “Oh, the usual. It’s hard to believe how many people turn into raging assholes at the slightest inconvenience. You know, one guy actually threatened to call my manager when I told him we were out of iced tea. Like that’s somehowmyfault!” She shakes her head. “I swear, I just don’t understand how people can be so selfish and hardheaded. Would it kill them to have some basic empathy?”

I know she’s not talking about me, but her words come uncomfortably close to echoing Tommy’s earlier accusations. I mumble a reply.

Mom fixes me with a concerned look. “Everything all right, honey?”

“It’s fine,” I lie. “Just a long day.”

She lets out another groan as she slides off her shoes, rubbing her feet. “NowthatI can definitely empathize with.”

“Mom!” Patrick appears in the doorway from the living room and throws himself into her arms. “I tried to cook dinner!”

“Did you now?” Mom raises an eyebrow at me, and I offer a sheepish shrug.

“Yep!” Patrick replies cheerfully.

“And how’d that go?” Mom asks.

Patrick hesitates. Tommy chooses that instant to appear, still nursing his beer. “About as well as you’d expect. Hey, ma.” He bends down to kiss her cheek. He might be a perpetual dick to me, but I’ve never seen him say an unkind word to Patrick or Mom.

That’s because the problem’s not him—it’s you.

As if to punctuate the fleeting thought, Tommy glances at me, his eyes narrowing before he pointedly looks away. Despite his best efforts to pretend I don’t exist, some of the tension between us evaporates as we settle around the table for a late dinner. Mom’s presence usually has that effect. It’s about the only way these days we manage to coexist.

For a good ten or fifteen minutes, I can almost pretend we’re a real family again. It’s easy to imagine Dad sitting in the next room, about to pop in and join us with his barking laugh.

The illusion doesn’t last.

After dinner, Mom helps Patrick with his homework while Tommy retreats to his room without a word. Mom said she’d deal with the dishes once she finishes up with Patrick, but Iknow she has a morning shift at the diner, so I settle in at the sink to do them myself.

By the time I make it to my own room, it’s past eleven PM, and I’m utterly drained. I do my best to rally and make it through my homework, but I can already tell I’ve got another lunch period’s worth of catch-up ahead of me. There’s simply not enough time in the day for everything I need to do, especially with Dr. Jenkins wanting to bring me on for more hours.

It doesn’t help that my thoughts keep circling around what Tommy had said. He’s right that working at the vet isn’t bringing in much extra money to support us. I’d easily make two or three times what he’s paying me if I picked up a shift or two at the diner instead once you factored in tips.