This timeI’m doing things right.
Except, I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. Last night I might’ve said the right words and kissed Siobhan senseless, but that was the end of it. I slept on the couch, and she went to her room. We haven’t discussed us, and I don’t know how to do it.
As my father would say, ni pinche idea de come salir de este hoyo. So, I have to turn to other people for help.
It physically pains me to do this, but there’s no other alternative.
If I want my relationship with Siobhan to work out, I’ll do whatever is necessary. Including going to Nando. He’ll gloat while reminding me he’s the youngest and wisest. He’s not, but I’ll let him believe it for a day if that gives me the secret to Siobhan’s heart.
When I open the door, one of the Yorkillions swooshes out of the house.
“Poppy, stop!” Brianna yells before she goes right behind her.
“Can you people ring the doorbell?” Nando holds two of his dogs.
I flinch apologetically. “Sorry?”
Nando thrusts the puppies in my arms. “Do not let them out until we’re back. Can I trust you with that?”
He doesn’t wait for me to answer before he jets out the door, making sure he closes it.
“Well, so much for getting help from my brother.”
“What kind of help?” I hear Dad’s voice before I see him coming from the upstairs floor.
“I didn’t know you were here.”
“They needed some help with the shutters in the kids’ rooms.”
My brows shut up. “Are they expecting babies?”
“The puppies,” he corrects, then grins. “Your furry nieces and nephew.”
“Stop humoring them.”
“I approve of them,” he says as he makes his way down the stairs and takes one of them from me. “I’ll just spoil these pups until one of you gives me a human grandchild.”
A few weeks ago, I would’ve told him to sit down and wait. Now… I’m not in a hurry, but maybe someday, Siobhan and I will start a family. Will that ever happen?
“What kind of help do you need from your brother?” Pa pets the little pup like an evil genius would pet a white cat.
“It’s not important.”
“You here to blame me for something that happened in your childhood that messed you up?”
I laugh humorlessly. “Why would I do that? It’s in the past.”
“No importa que haga, siempre soy el malo.”
“I’m not blaming you for anything or calling you the antagonist of this fucked-up story.” My brothers tried, and when I learned more about the past, I realized that our father was just a misguided man who tried his best. That doesn’t mean I don’t resent him.
Do I like that he neglected his children because his priorities were skewed? No. I hate it, but I guess it’s part of how he was raised.
My grandfather focused on the business and making money, while my grandmother was in charge of my dad. Since my parents divorced, there wasn’t anyone to pick up the slack. There was just me.
“Though, maybe you shouldn’t have given me all those responsibilities at the age of eight.”
Pa stares at me. “It was never my intention. You offered to do it, so I wouldn’t cancel some of the activities or…” He shrugs. “For some reason, you always liked to make Myka and your brothers happy—and I let you do it. I should’ve put down my foot and let you have a childhood, but it was easier not to acknowledge that I was failing you.”