Beware of the Parker Boys *UNDER EDITING*

Chapter nineteen

Chapter nineteen

      I am sitting on the back porch alone when Wendy steps out and sits in the chair beside me with two mugs. She sets one on the table beside me and holds the other in her hand. I smile to her and pick up the mug, peering inside.

      “It’s coffee, just looked like a time when coffee sounded good.” She says shrugging.

      I lift the mug to my mouth and slowly take a sip, careful not to burn off all of my taste buds. I smile at the taste, she put all of my favorite creamers inside, not to much and not to little. But she was right, it was coffee weather. The air was cooler than usual due to the seasons that are changing. School starts in two weeks, something I am highly dreading.

      The boys are all inside, watching their Saturday football that is starting. Occasionally you can hear them cheer as their team scores. I laugh to myself and look down into my cup.

      “Your father has been calling.” She tells me softly and when I look over to her she is also looking into her cup. “The boys thought you needed sometime to yourself so they wouldn’t let him talk to you. I didn’t even know he was calling until this morning. They had been answering the phone lately.” She explains.

      She looks up to me and I nod, looking back into my cup. The sun in falling onto my wrists, illuminating the new scars.

      “When is their father and the boys coming back?” I ask softly, keeping my voice steady.

      “The boys are coming back next week, their father won’t be coming until after February.”

      “Is he gone like this often?”

      She doesn’t say anything and when I look to her I find her nodding silently.

      We are silent for a moment, both of us staring at the contents of our cups.

      So my father has been calling, and the boys hadn’t been letting him talk to me. Knowing him he will most likely show up at the door before long if he doesn’t talk to me soon. That would be way worse than a phone call.

      “I think I am going to give him a call.” I tell her standing to my feet. “Thank you for the coffee.” I say, giving her shoulder a squeeze before going inside and to the phone, but I find the phone not on the receiver. I peer into the living room, where all the boys sit with their sodas and bags of chips, but if you look past that you can see the phone on the coffee table, in the middle of all of them.

      I walk inside and grab it swiftly, ignoring the looks I get when I do. I hurry up to my room and shut, lock, the door. I dial his number and take a seat on the window seat, looking down to the yard as I do.

      “Hello.” He says as he answers, his voice is gruff and tired.

     
      “Hey Dad.”

      “Brooklyn? Jesus Christ! It has been a week! A week-…”

      “I didn’t call to be yelled at Dad, if that is all that you are going to do then I am hanging.” I threaten. He is silent and I take the chance to bring it up. “So I seen Tanner the other day.” I say casually.

      “O yea? What’s he been up to?”

      I can hear it in his voice, even if I hadn’t known he put Tanner up to coming here I could have known. I can hear the lie in his voice.

      “He moved here.”

      “Hm.” He says and I hear a door shut on the other side of the line.