"Ask him." He pouted again and left. "I'll head out back and open the bay for customers, okay, sweetheart?" "Okay, Dad. Take it easy." "Will do." I frowned when I saw two folded rags on the counter. Dad had forgotten them. Reaching for one, I sprayed it with disinfectant and started wiping. When the bells jingled at the entrance door, I looked up. Welcome, first customer of the day, I thought, plastering a smile on my face. It disappeared as I watched Andrew stumbled his way toward me. He teetered left and right, holding on for support to the display case of car parts. When he got closer, I winced and covered my nose. He reeked of alcohol. His face scrunched up in anger as he pointed a finger at me. "You! Tell him to bring Charity back to me. Tell him!" What the hell is he talking about? "You're drunk, Andrew." "No shit. Whose fault is it, do you think? He said he won't tell my wife. He said he won't tell my wife!" he yelled, spit flying in the air. "Tell Charity what? I don't know what the hell you're talking about." He let out a bitter laugh. "You think I don't know that you and your boyfriend are laughing behind my back? You and your whole family?" "I don't even know what the hell you're accusing me of!" "He's always here, isn't he? I see his truck outside. Tell him to come here right now! Right fucking now, Kara." "If you don't leave right now, I'm going to call the cops." "Charity left me! Months ago. Don't tell me you didn't know. You liar. He waited until you have all the shares and then fucked me over. He's going to get what he deserves. He will! Just watch me." "Andrew." I grinded my teeth when I heard my dad's voice behind me. This was the last thing he needed. "Oh, and here goes my angel of a brother. The one who can't do anything wrong," he spat bitterly, glaring at my dad. "You've always wanted this for me, didn't you? You've always wanted to ruin me. You've got your wish now, Mike. What else do you want to take away from me? I don't have my wife, my kids hate me, I don't even have the shop anymore. You fucker." "Andrew, you're drunk," my dad said calmly. "Why don't we stepped out back and I'd get you something to sober you up? We can talk about what's bothering you." "I hate you," Andrew said under his breath. "I should've left you all to starve. I regret every cent I sent you. Every cent." He slapped his fist on the counter, shot us a murderous glance before he turned on his heel and stumbled out. When he was gone, my dad sagged against the counter. Alarmed, I grabbed his arm, steadied him. "Dad, are you okay?" "Just a little dizzy, sweetheart. I need to sit down." "I'll get you some water. Sit here. There you go," I said, helping him take a sip. "Drink it all, Dad." Worried sick, I watched him finish it. "Did you take your heart pills today?" "Of course. Don't worry. Just need to get my breath back." "Andrew's just drunk. He's going through a hard time. He's blaming everyone but himself. Don't listen to him, Dad. He did that on his own." "Thank you, sweetheart." "Why don't you go home and lie down?" He shook his head. "No, no. I'm okay. I'm almost finished this work order anyway. Stop worrying." That night, I had dinner with Dad. He was quiet and pensive. I tried to coax him into a conversation, but he looked exhausted. I sat with him and watched TV for a while before he went to bed. Everything was going to be okay. We went through harder times than this. I tried to phone Charity but there was no answer. Heart heavy, I sat in Cameron's truck, letting thoughts whirl in my head. When my phone rang, I nearly jumped. Shit. "Kar, you bish. I miss you." It was Tala. I felt myself smiling. We chatted for a bit. I told her all about the new improvements in the house, how the shop was doing great, about me and Cameron, but I left out the bad things. "Actually, I'm on my way to pick up a couple more flowerpots at the nursery before I head home. I'll call you back later when I get them. We can FaceTime and hang out while I set up." "Sounds awesome. It's morning here right now anyway. I'll wait for you, k." "K." I ended up buying more than I planned. There were so many beautiful summer flowers. I couldn't decide if I wanted marigolds or hydrangeas, so I got both. Added lilies and lupines too. I bought one for dad and one for Cameron too. When I stepped on the porch, my mood had vastly improved. I bent to put my purchases down, then froze. The flowerpots that I had already set up were smashed broken and discarded everywhere. Soil and torn petals and stems scattered as though flung by a toddler with a nasty temper. What the fuck? When I saw my front door was slightly open, I grabbed the baseball bat my Dad hid behind the porch bench. Knees trembling, I stepped in quietly. Everything looked to be in place. Did I just forget to lock the front door? Did the wind just knock the flowerpots and I was just overreacting? No, shithead. Use your brain. Didn't you watch reruns of Forensic Files with your dad when you were a kid? Then I saw my bedroom door halfway open and I backed away. I always closed it. There was no way I'd have forgotten that. "Fuck this," I said under my breath and ran out to the front door. The sound of glass breaking made my heart stop. I stopped in my tracks and looked behind me. Shit.