“Because unless he deserves to be fired for something relating to his work, I don’t see a reason to let him go.” I shrug.
Before we can get any deeper into the conversation, Mom returns, saying that the delivery was waiting for her downstairs and she should have just asked me to bring it up. We have a rather tense family meal.
It’s weird to see both my parents in one room not screaming at each other, and I can still feel dad staring daggers at me behind mom’s back. Not to mention mom’s confusion at my short answers. This isn’t going to be easy to keep up for long. Mom’s quick, and she’s going to start pushing.
Once everything is laid out, there’s going to be hell to pay. I just can’t think about that now if I want to keep moving forward, and I’m definitely determined to do that. Dad knowing or not, the guys are right: it doesn’t change how I feel for them.
I want to come home knowing that each of them wants me there, that we can laugh, have game nights, get naughty, cook, clean, watch movies, and even vacation together without any kind of problem.
So when I leave the hospital, bidding mom and dad a good night, I feel another heavy rock slide off my shoulder. This is all possible. Having the guys without losing my dad or job … it seems doable, even if there are a few more hurdles in place than there used to be.
Opening the door, I find all four of the guys in the kitchen and can’t help but smile as I watch them tease each other, talk about their day, the game on TV, and joke around about burning food.
A little bit of arguing is worth being a part of this.