“I’ve been on my own for ten years, Xan. I don’t need you to protect me. What I do need from you is to go back to the field. Tell our daughter that I needed to run some errands and then bring her home to me when practice is done. Consider it your first test as a responsible father.”
I jump back in the truck and slam the door, feeling a rush of exhilaration at speaking up for myself. Ten years ago, I would have melted in his arms and let him shield me from everything the world threw at me.
The truck roars to life and I roll down the window. “You’ll bring her home?”
He nods. “Can I take her for pizza with the team first?” His voice is hesitant and airy like a child who’d been scolded.
“She needs to be home before dark.”
I shift the truck into gear and drive away leaning sharply to the left to see the road through the letters.
Up the road, I slow down beside Del and give her an I’m sorry your brother is a douche eye roll so she jumps into the truck.
“I need a car wash,” I say and Del shakes her head.
“Go to the bar. We have that industrial grease soap. Lipstick doesn’t come off worth shit.”
I give her a knowing grin and she matches my expression.
“I didn’t do this,” she says with force and crosses her arms. “But Nancy Cartwrite? That dumb bitch had it coming.”
I shake my head and drive as fast as I can to the lonely hotel parked at the end of main street looking like it should have been quarantined about thirty years ago. But you never take away the only bar in a small town. That would be cause for revolt.