Page 23 of I Could Never
“My mother had an affair with my father’s brother. She’s still with him today. My dad kicked her out, and she didn’t exactly put up a fight to stay in our lives. We keep in touch occasionally, on a superficial level, but we’re not close. She’s selfish and has never made an effort to make things better.” I paused. “I also think she stays away because she knows how painful it is for my dad to see her with my uncle Stone. But she’s refused to leave him. She chose him over us. That’s the very short version of the story.”
“Wow. Okay.” She nodded sympathetically. “Everything makes more sense now. I know you said Yvonne was like a second mother to you.”
“Not a second mother, myonlymother.” I looked down. “While she was alive.”
“I’m sorry. Brad never mentioned your family situation.”
“He was probably conditioned to not talk about it because that’s how I trained him.” I looked up at her. “When you told me about your dad leaving, though, I felt like I had to say something.”
“Between my father and your mother…” She shook her head. “I guess we found a third thing we have in common.”
“You’ve been counting?”
“Well, there are so few…” She winked. “Not that hard to keep track.”
“What are the other two again?” I arched my brow. “It ain’t a love of pumpkin.”
Carly counted on her fingers. “One was missing Brad. Two was pistachio ice cream.”
“Ah. Yes,” I muttered. “One won’t ever change.”
She looked like she was gonna say something else, but I’d had enough of talking about sad shit for now.
“Well, dinner was delicious. Thank you again.”
“That sauce was Brad’s favorite. One of the few things I can cook well.”
Cue the damn sadness again.A pang of guilt hit me. Brad should’ve been the one to enjoy this delicious meal with her. It felt wrong to derive any pleasure at all from this. The moment felt stolen. Just like the damn dog staring up at me with googly eyes.Stolen.
Suddenly the guilt became too much to bear. It was late, but I needed some air and to get out of this house for a bit. I’d need to take her car. We’d decided that since only one of us ever left at a time, it wouldn’t be necessary for me to rent one.
Taking my phone out, I pretended to check the time. “I actually have to go out for a bit. Scottie’s already sleeping and should be good for a while. Is it okay if I take your car?”
“Of course.” She tilted her head. “Where to?”
“I’m meeting someone I met online for a drink,” I lied. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, though.”
“This late?”
“Yeah.”
Her expression fell. “Ah. Okay…no rush. Have a good time.”
As I got into the car and drove off, I had no clue where I was headed. All I knew was that being back in Woodsboro made me feel things I didn’t want to feel—things I hadn’t felt in a while—about my mother and about Brad. I’d come home for Christmas over the years, but those trips were always a quick stay at Michael’s house and then right back to Chicago. In and out. But now, being in Brad’s old house without him made me feel like an imposter. Not to mention, the daily reminder that three out of the four people in the Longo family were now gone was a hard pill to swallow.
Needing a way to drown it all out for a bit, I just blasted the music and drove, with no destination in sight.
CHAPTER 7
CARLY
IT WAS PRETTYremarkable how well Josh and I had learned to manage things in just a couple of weeks. That’s not to say we always got along; bickering seemed to be one of our favorite pastimes. But we were on a schedule and in a groove. I looked after Scottie as best I could while Josh worked during the day. Then he’d take over while I ran errands or got dinner ready in the evenings. It wasn’t always seamless, but the house and Scottie were both still in one piece, so I considered that winning.
The goldendoodle I’d affectionately named Bubba was still with us as well. There were no leads as to where he’d come from, and much to Josh’s chagrin, it looked like the dog would continue living with us.
Josh continued to sleep every night on the air mattress he’d bought. Despite my many offers to take turns with the bedroom, he refused.
I decided to take advantage of Lauren, Scottie’s therapist, being at the house one afternoon and booked an appointment to get my roots touched up. Although I had naturally dark blonde hair, back in L.A., I had always gotten lighter-blonde highlights.