Day 9

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Tuesday


His phone was buzzing. Ethan made a noise of resistance but pulled back the covers anyway. He rubbed at his eyes before picking up the device from the bedside table and answering the call. He grunted into the phone as a form of greeting.

"Ethan!" It took him several seconds to place that voice but when he did, he jerked awake and he cleared his throat. "Ethan, you need to come back."

His brows concentrated into a crease. He'd only been here a week. What could possibly happen in a week? "Why?" he asked warily.

"Dad's in the hospital," Katie told him. "He was drinking with his pals at the bar and he got drunk and he got into a bar brawl."

His initial concern dissipated rapidly after his sister's explanation. "That man has done this dozens of times before. I'm done picking up after his mess. I'm not going back for him. I'm sure he'll be fine."

Katie let out a frustrated noise. "No, Ethan!" He put the phone back to his ear, looking up at the ceiling in impatience. "He's in the ICU," she pointed out. "It's pretty bad."

A disbelieving chuckle escaped from Ethan's throat. "Katie, our father's been in the ICU before from similar events. So yeah, I think he's gonna be fine."

"He's our dad!"

He clenched his jaw, his smile having vanished. "He hasn't been my dad for years, Katie," he stated coldly. "Look, unless it's something wrong with the company or Mom or you, I don't want to hear it, okay? Harrison Boyd has been upending his own life since before we were even born. He can handle himself."

"Come on-"

"Katie," he cut her off, "is there anything else?"

He knew his sister was pouting before she shot off a reluctant, "No."

He nodded and brushed his hair with his hand. "Okay, then. How is Mom doing?" he asked.

"She's worried sick about you."

Ethan sighed. "Tell her to stop. I'm fine, okay? I'll be back in three weeks."

"Okay."

"What about you? What did you do to my liquor cabinet?"

Katie chuckled. "They're intact. I did steal a sip of whiskey. What do you do with them anyway? Aren't you supposed to not drink?"

"I'm allowed to have one drink or two in a long period of time, Katie. I just don't drink like I did before," Ethan said.

"Well, as long as you don't relapse."

"I'll try very hard not to, baby sister."

She groaned. "Stop calling me that."

He grinned. "But you are."

"Ethan."

"Alright, alright. Well, thank you for the morning call, Katie. I'm very awake now."

"You're welcome."

They said their goodbyes and hung up. He placed his phone on the bedside table and stared at it with a small frown and his lips pulled down.

Did his father ever stop? Would he ever stop? Ethan was sure that the day his father stopped trying to ruin their lives with his shenanigans would be a day worth celebrating. But alas, it had been so long and Harrison was still the same man he was.

Sometimes, Ethan wondered how his mother did it. Heather, nee Langston, had been married - stuck - with Harrison Boyd for roughly thirty-five years and not once had she ever complained. She put up with her husband's infidelity and irresponsibility. She didn't say a word when he made headline news with whichever long legged skimpy blonde he recently slept with with. She just stayed with him like an obedient little puppy for thirty-five years.

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