Without Merit

I shake my head. “I knew you had a job, but I’ve just never asked what it was.”

“Your dad gave me a job and let me move in the first day I met him. That’s why I like him so much, even though you can’t stand him most of the time.”

He looks over his shoulder and backs out of the driveway. Before he pulls onto the road, he gives me a small wave. I wave back and watch him drive off.

I don’t know how long I stand in the driveway, watching the empty road. I just feel so . . . lost? I don’t know. Nothing really makes sense this week.

I go back inside and spend the next several hours wasting time.

I mostly watch TV, but I can’t stop checking my phone for updates. I still haven’t heard from my father. I’ve only received one text and it was from my mother, asking if I’d come to the basement sometime this afternoon. I responded to her and told her I was busy. She replied with, “Okay. Maybe tomorrow.”

I know I said I was never going to the basement again, but I only said that because I was angry. I’ll visit her eventually, but right now I’m still upset with her. And my father. Still confused by how Victoria can choose to remain in such a strange marital environment.

And I still don’t know what the hell the placebo pills are for.

I hate that I have any sort of resentment in me after hearing what Sagan’s going through. But for some reason, his issues haven’t negated mine at all and I hate that. I hate that I’m still emotionally affected by the poor choices of my parents when I should be lucky that I know they’re alive. It makes me feel weak. And petty.

I kick my feet up on the kitchen table and text my father.

Me: Any word from the vet?

I wait to see if the text bubbles appear, but they don’t. I set the phone down and pull my crossword puzzle in front of me. My phone rings, so I flip it over to check the caller ID. I smile when I see it’s Sagan.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice is heavy, like he had to drag the word out.

“What’s wrong?”

He sighs into the phone. “Your father wanted me to call you. He uh . . . Wolfgang . . . he died on the way to the vet.”

I almost drop my phone. “What? How?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure it was just old age.”

I sigh and wipe away a surprising tear.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” I say, sighing again. “I just . . . is my dad okay?”

“I’m sure he is. He did mention we might go bury him later, though. Probably at Pastor Brian’s church, so I’ll be later than usual. I’ll text you.”

“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

“See you tonight.”

I end the call and stare at my phone for a full five minutes before I move. I’m surprised I’m sad. Other than living in the yard adjacent to the dog as a kid, I’ve really only interacted with him for a few days. But the last week of that poor dog’s life was complete crap. His owner died and then he walked several miles in the rain in the middle of the night only to end up getting sick and dying in the midst of complete strangers. I’m glad they’re going to bury him on Pastor Brian’s property, though. I’m sure they’d both prefer it that way.

I don’t hear from Sagan or my father for several hours. The mood in the house is awkward at best, so I stay in my room most of the evening. Victoria doesn’t even cook, so we all eat separately.

I’m cleaning up the mess from my frozen dinner when Utah’s phone rings. He’s on the couch with Luck and Honor watching TV, but his phone is next to me on the bar.

“Who is it?” he asks from the living room.

I glance at the caller ID, but it’s not a number he has saved. “I don’t know. It’s a local number, but there’s no name.”

“Will you answer it?”

I dry my hands on a towel and reach for his phone.

“Hello?”

“Honor?”

“No, it’s Merit.”

“Merit,” my father says. “Where’s Utah?”

“He’s in the living room. What’s up?”

He sighs. “Well . . . we need someone to pick us up.”

I laugh. Is this some kind of joke? “You own like eighty cars. Why in the world do you need a ride?”

“We’re uh . . . in jail.”

I pull the phone away from my ear and put it on speaker. I motion for Utah to mute the TV. “What do you mean you’re in jail? And who is we? Is Sagan in jail, too?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you when you get here.”

“Who’s in jail?” Utah asks, walking into the kitchen. I motion for him to be quiet so I can hear my father.

“Do we need like . . . bail money? I’ve never picked anyone up from jail before.”

“No, we just need a ride. We’ve been here two hours already waiting for them to let us make a phone call.”

“Okay. We’re on our way.” I end the call.

“Why are they in jail?” Utah says.

I shrug. “I don’t know. Should we tell Victoria?”

“Tell me what?” Victoria walks into the kitchen with impeccable timing.

“Dad’s in jail,” Utah says, turning to face her. “With Sagan.”

She pauses. “What?”

“Don’t know what he did, but I can’t wait to find out,” Utah says. Honor and Luck are now in the kitchen. We’re all looking at each other like we don’t know what to do. I guess we don’t. It’s not every day we have to go pick our father up from jail.

“Have him call me as soon as you pick him up,” Victoria says. “I have to stay with Moby.”

I nod and head to my room to find my shoes. What in the world did they do?





Chapter Fifteen

I don’t know what I was expecting, but when my father and Sagan walk out of the doors of the jail, they look normal. We’ve been waiting in the parking lot for over an hour for them to process their paperwork. All they would tell us was that they were arrested for desecration. I don’t even know what that means.

My first inclination is to rush up to Sagan and hug him, but I don’t. Especially in front of anyone else. Instead, I wait until he reaches the car and I discreetly squeeze his hand.

“What’d you guys do?” Utah asks.

My father swings open the passenger door of the van. “We were trying to bury a damn dog, that’s what we were doing.” He sits down and slams his door shut. We all look at Sagan and he’s got an exasperated expression on his face.

“I tried to tell him it was a bad idea,” he says.

“Burying the dog?” Luck asks.

Sagan shakes his head. “I thought we were burying him at the church, but . . . your father had a different plan.”

“He didn’t,” Honor says in disbelief.

“Didn’t what?” Utah says.

“He wanted to bury him with Pastor Brian,” Sagan says.

“In a cemetery?” Luck asks.

“You got arrested for desecrating a grave?” I ask.

Sagan nods. “I mean, technically we were just digging a hole near Pastor Brian, but when the police catch you in a cemetery with shovels, they don’t really care what the explanation is.”

“Holy shit,” Utah says.

“Get in the van!” my father yells.

We all climb into the van. I end up in the backseat with Sagan, but I don’t mind it. Utah cranks the van, but right before we pull out of the police station, a cruiser pulls in. My father rolls down the window.

“Oh, no,” Sagan says.