I rolled my phone in my hand, wanting nothing but to hear Cameron's voice. Most of all, I wanted to see him and finish our argument. It was late, and I knew he was out of town for work. It was at least a three-hour drive to go there. But I also wanted him to be the first one to reach out. Was that unreasonable? The lack of text or call from him was depressing me. When I got back inside, the party was still in full swing. Everyone was talking on top of each other, Aunt Elisa was serving more food. Somehow, they found a bottle of rum in the house and Aunt Tabby was pouring it. They were getting rowdier, their voices sounded high and loud. I thought I smelled weed, but it was only in passing and now it was gone. "Where's Dad?" I asked Dylan. The couch felt comfortable and inviting, but it only made me remember when I slept on Cameron's couch and he woke me up, carried me to his bed. "Bathroom." Cecille was snoring beside me on the couch, Dylan was glued to his phone, and there wasn't anything I wanted to watch on Netflix, so I turned it off. Inadvertently I heard the conversation happening in the dining room. "This is really good, Lisa. I don't know what you've put in these mashed potatoes, but can I have the recipe?" Charity said. I loved Charity. I had no idea how Andrew got so lucky with his wife. In my opinion he should be married to a hairy foot. "Nothing beats the mashed potatoes we had in Vegas last year though," Andrew interrupted before Aunt Lisa could answer. "Anyone here been to Vegas? No? Well, Charity and I have been. The ticket my son John bought us was first class and expensive. Those seats were practically beds. They gave us champagne too. Imagine that! Champagne on a plane. Ha! The hotel was five-star too. I don't even want to know how much my kids spent on us on that vacation. Not anyone can afford it, of course—" "Mike worked in Vegas before, didn't he?" Aunt Lisa piped in. I could tell she was sick of Andrew's next level bragging. "Well, that wasn't a good experience for him," Aunt Tabby said. Andrew bobbed his gigantic head condescendingly. "That's right. Scarred him for life. Met his wife there, didn't he? Where is she now? Ran away with another man. Left her brood for other people to take care of. Wild animals don't even leave their young. This one—" "Mike took care of his kids well. I won't have you say otherwise, Andrew," Aunt Lisa said. I wanted to give her a hug for that. "He did, but always asked for help, didn't he? How many times did my wife Charity cook dinner for his kids? How many times did she pick them up from school while he was at work?" "Kara and Dylan are good kids, Andrew. I liked having them over. Besides, Mike rarely asked. I was the one who offered." "Mike picked you up more times when we were teenagers when you got drunk out of your mind," Aunt Lisa snapped. My dad was the baby of the family, but he was the one who took care of their parents when they were too old to run the farm and both the sisters ran off to live in the city. Aunt Tabby nodded in agreement. "That's true. I knew Mike barely scraped by with what he earned back then. Just enough to pay for rent and food. I didn't mind giving Kara Cecille's old clothes and toys. Gave Mike a few dollars too when he was short. If only he had someone to help him raise his kids. He didn't deserve that shameless woman. What a bitch." "Shut the fuck up!" "Dylan!" "I'm sorry. It's my...my friend. He texted me something nasty. I just reacted. I'm sorry, Aunt Tabby." "Mind your language in your Aunt Lisa's house, boy. You shouldn't be friends with people who are a bad influence on you." Just then my dad appeared and carefully lowered himself on his seat. He looked sleepy but not drunk, and he had a small smile on his face from having a good time with his siblings. No matter what Dylan and I felt about being here, I didn't want to take away my dad's only time to relax. They were so rare and far between. Although I didn't like that they were talking about my family, I could admit that they weren't lying about my mother. I was just worried how Dylan was taking it. "Looks like your son needs to learn some lessons, Mike. Is he good at anything in particular?" "Sure. Dyl can fix anything. He can even fix that hairdo of yours," he winked teasingly. "Remember Ezekiel's grandson Buddy? You saw him at the shop last week, didn't you? Dylan fixed his truck. Runs like brand new." My dad sounded so proud, but beside me Dylan made a frustrated growl. "You mean that old clunker he's got parked in his lot? That truck belongs to the junkyard. Fixing scraps won't make money, Mike," Andrew continued. "I'm asking about college. Every one of our kids has a degree. At least get one of your kids to earn one so it's not too embarrassing." I bit my lip and dug my nails in the couch to stop myself from scratching Andrew's face. "You know that's not important to me," Dad said. "Whether they finish college or not is up to them. As long as they're happy with what they're doing I got nothing to complain about." "Education, Mike. That's the way to success. Fixing old junk, really? Kara's going to college again, thank God, but what about Dylan?" "My young boy just sent his application. He wants to get his certificate on—" "Dad, shut up! Why are you telling them?" Dylan stood up suddenly, fists clenched, eyes hot and angry. The plate in his hand clattered on the floor, spilling chocolate cake on Aunt Lisa's carpet. "I told you that in private! Why are you telling these people something I told you to keep secret? That's your problem, Dad! That's why I don't tell you anything. You...you just...you just... Ugh!" "Dylan! That's your dad you're talking to!" "I hate this," Dylan hissed. He shot Dad an accusing look, grabbed his backpack on the floor and ran out the door. "Dylan!" He got up to run after Dylan, his face stricken with worry, but I stopped him. I felt so bad. I did this to him too when my mother came to our house not too long ago. It was hard to have kids and my dad was trying his best. It wasn't his fault his kids were ungrateful little brats. "I'll take Dylan home, Dad. Don't worry about him. I'll pick you up after, okay? Aunt Lisa, can you make sure Dad doesn't drive?" Outside the wind had gotten stronger. I shoved my hands in my pockets when the cold bit into my skin. I spotted Dylan hurrying down the street. "Dylan!" "Leave me alone, Kar. I can't even drive. Dad has the keys."