Junkyard Dog

Angry now, I sit up and focus on the kids’ game. I don’t need Hayes or his hot kisses or his sloppy four hundred and fifty seconds. I enjoy my job. I adore my house. I have the best kids. My life is fucking aces. I don’t need any fucking complications. Great, now I’m even thinking the word “fucking” constantly. The man is a bad influence.

I’m still grumpy about Hayes when the kids and I later watch Inside Out. I sit in the middle of the couch with a kid on each side. Both rest their heads on my lap while I play with their hair. They’re so relaxed, and their calm infects me. Hanging in our pjs is the best.

Life never promised me a damn rose garden, so our happy evening is interrupted by a knock at the door. The kids sit up and stare at the front hallway as if we’re under attack.

I walk to the front door, take the baseball bat from the umbrella stand, and open the door a crack. I find Honey and her brood shivering on the front step.

“Can we come in?” Honey asks when I just stare at her.

A part of me wants to tell her no. I have a quiet life with my kids, and Honey reeks of messy drama. She might taint me with her bad thinking, and I’ll corrupt the twins.

I don’t shut the door on her, of course. I’m selfish, but not to the point of acting on most of my egotistical impulses.

Honey herds her shivering kids into the house, and I realize they’re all wearing pajamas under their coats. The youngest Lauren is barefoot.

“What happened?” I ask, shutting the door and following them into the living room.

Honey opens her mouth to answer but sees the twins and changes her mind. My kids don’t look thrilled to have visitors and less so about having these particular ones. Cricket doesn’t like her cousins, while Chipper merely tolerates them. They’re accustomed to a small, mostly adult family unit. Other children don’t interest them.

“I need somewhere to stay tonight. We can go to a hotel, but I don’t have any money. I’ll pay you back. I promise.”

Looking at my sister, I resent her for being in this situation. I want her to be smarter than our mother. I need her to get her shit in order. I feel all kinds of pissy emotions, but I force myself to remember this is my sister. Once she was the person who held my hand when we crossed the street. She made me peanut butter sandwiches when I got home from school, and mom was still at work. Honey took care of me, and I can, at least, help her out tonight.

“Why don’t you stay here instead?” I suggest.

Honey knows we’re not close, and she knows it’s mostly her fault. She married an asshole, and he separated her from everyone who didn’t worship him. I know she hopes we can be friends now that we’re adults, but we’re not friends yet. We’re siblings who barely spoke for years and now have an awkward relationship built on resentment and unspoken disappointments.

“Are you sure?”

I take Lauren from Honey and carry the toddler to the couch.

“We’re watching a movie.”

Drew and Evan drop onto the floor in front of the TV. They don’t even remove their jackets. The boys are immediately happy, but Allison remains near her mother. The oldest child understands more than her siblings, and she isn’t any more thrilled to be here than Honey.

Lauren lets me take off her jacket and then she finds a spot between the twins. She thinks they’re cool. They think she slobbers too much. It’s a match made in heaven.

After asking Allison to join her siblings, I gesture for Honey to follow me into the kitchen. Once we have a little privacy, I ask what happened.

“Andrew freaked and kicked us out of the house.”

“Freaked about what?” I ask, noticing bruises around her throat.

“I don’t know. He came home and said he saw an old friend of mine driving around town. Then he freaked and told me to get out.”

Honey is hiding something. I often sense that about my sister. She possesses an aloof quality that makes her always seem as if she’s only telling half of the story.

“You can stay here until this gets worked out.”

Honey nods, but behind her detached expression, I suspect she’s barely keeping shit together.

“Why don’t we put Allison and Drew in Chipper’s room. Can you share a bed with Lauren and Evan?”

“What about the twins?”

“They can sleep with me. I have a king sized bed, and they often join me during thunderstorms.”

“You don’t have to do this,” she mumbles in a weird voice.

“No, I don’t. You and I aren’t close,” I say, putting out the cold hard facts. “We could be one day. We’re the only ones left in the family, and we could learn to be friends. I’d like that, Honey.”

Her indifference crumbles, and my sister bursts into tears. I’m startled when she falls into my arms but quickly rebound with a tight hug. Her tears only last a few minutes, but they come violently until she’s spent.