Chapter 2

two

. . .

Ruby

We finishedthe meeting with Dr. Peters, and thankfully, my dad had agreed to everything the doctor had suggested. My father could be a stubborn ass when he wanted to be, but he was humbled at the moment, and he’d stopped fighting me on everything once the truth had been exposed.

Was I surprised that he had taken not one, not two, but three doses of medication to give him an endless erection?

Not even a little.

This was very on-brand for him.

He was an impulsive guy, and we’d always joked about it.

He was the life of the party, and I was the adult in our relationship.

At eight years old, I was meal prepping for the two of us and organizing the bills.

But we’d always been open and honest with each other, and I hated that he’d lied to me. I understood why he’d done it, but it didn’t mean I had to like it.

My father was the one person in my life that I trusted.

He always had been.

My mother was an entirely different story.

Wendy Rose-Dane-Holt-Smith-Slaughter was a brand all her own.

Most short-term apartment leases lasted longer than her marriages did. So yes, I made it a point to call her by all of her married names—absolutely.

I was petty that way.

My mother was a very skilled woman when it came to her control over men. Unfortunately, she just didn’t pick very good ones.

At least, not after she’d devastated my dad.

My father was a good man. Beneath all the bad decisions and alcohol-fueled nights, he was good to his core.

It was painful how much I loved him.

Even when I was angry, which was sort of my love language.

He’d mess up, and I’d complain about it—it was our shtick.

My mother—well, it didn’t matter how many layers I peeled back with her… there was just nothing substantial when you got to the core.

Wendy Rose-Dane-Holt-Smith-Slaughter was beautiful, but she was selfish and thoughtless and calculated.

I pulled into the driveway of her trailer and put my piece of shit white Honda in park before climbing out of the car. My stomach churned, but I held my head high and marched up to the door, swinging it open and finding exactly what I always found.

At least she is consistent.

Dirty dishes and garbage littered the countertop and floors.

The strong scent of cigarette smoke and weed filtered through the air around me.

Beer bottles stuffed with cigarette butts sat on the small table, and I shook my head with disgust. “Hello. I’m here.”

“I’m not feeling well. Grab me a Coke and come to my room,” my mother called out.

When I opened the refrigerator, I covered my nose to stop myself from gagging as the overpowering smell of rotten milk and something sour flooded my senses.

Nothing ever changes.

I’d lived with my father after their breakup when I was four years old. And by breakup, we’re talking an epic, explosive, disastrous ending of a union that should have probably never happened. However, I was grateful that one thing came out of their time together—me.

But the ending had been soul-crushing for my father and just another day at the office for my mother.

She’d been caught having an affair with my father’s childhood best friend, Rico Dane. My younger brother, Rico Dane Junior—don’t even get me started on the fact that there should be rules about naming a child Junior when Rico Dane Senior had accomplished nothing more than being a sperm donor and the champion beer pong player at Whiskey Falls bar—had been the result of that union, and he was a hot mess just like our mother.

“Sis!” A voice came from behind me, and I startled before turning around just as Rico came flying through the door.

He was a big, lovable dufus.

He’d dropped out of high school because he wanted to start growing marijuana long before it was legal, and he named his company, Kingpin Weed.

That’s not going to draw any attention to law enforcement, am I right?

The business never took off, and Rico spent his days getting high and called it research. Now he worked at The Daily Market for Oscar Daily. At least he was holding down a job.

Was he ready to take on fatherhood? Absolutely not.

But that had never stopped any member of my family from going there.

I let him pick me up off the floor and shake me, because I loved the hell out of him, even if I didn’t always understand him.

There was nothing fair about being born the offspring of Wendy and Rico Dumbass Senior. So, I’d always tried to have his back. Keep him out of trouble when I could.

“Hey. You can put me down now.” I chuckled, which was something I made a point not to do often, because I didn’t find life to be all that humorous. But I was a bit of a softy for my younger brothers, Rico and Zane.

“So, what are you? A real doctor now, Dr. Rose?” he asked. As he whistled, a wide grin spread across his face.

He had my mother’s dark eyes and blond hair. I looked more like my father, and I’d never minded that. But my brother was adorable, and he knew it.

“If you call me Dr. Rose again, I’ll shave your eyebrows off in your sleep.” I shot him a warning look.

I was officially Dr. Rose in the academic world that I lived in—a faraway place from Magnolia Falls, the life I’d always wanted to run from. But being called “doctor” in my mother’s home would be the equivalent of committing a crime. My mother hated that I’d pursued my education.

Hell, I’d always had an endless thirst when it came to psychology. Learning what made people tick. Maybe because I’d been pretty much solving problems for all the people in my life since… birth.

Or at least it felt that way.

I liked learning about what made people do the things that they did, the motivation behind both positive and negative choices, and the potential to forgive those who hurt you.

I hadn’t quite practiced forgiveness much in my life, and maybe that was because no one was apologizing for anything most of the time. For the bad situations my mother had put me in as a child. For the way she’d relied on me to take care of my brothers when I was only a little older than both of them.

So, I learned how to take my skills and make them useful.

I’d graduated magna cum laude from one of the most prestigious universities in California, and apparently, the world was my oyster now.

Well, it will be in eight weeks after I finish running Whiskey Falls and wait for my father to make a full recovery.

But I still had to figure out what my oyster was.

The University of Western California offered me a teaching position. I’d be a professor teaching two different introductory psychology courses, which should be the goal after all the schooling I’d gone through. I just wasn’t certain if teaching was in my future. I hadn’t had the time to think about my options because I’d graduated on a Saturday morning, and my father had had a stroke the night before. He’d been getting ready to get in the car to come attend my graduation ceremony when it happened.

It was fitting for the story of my life, really.

I couldn’t seem to leave this place behind. The only person I’d be willing to ditch graduation for was my father, and that was exactly what I’d done.

There wasn’t anything that I wouldn’t do for him.

“You already shaved off Zane’s eyebrows in middle school. I won’t challenge you there because I know you’ll do it.”

“Damn straight. Tell me what’s happening with Panda.” Yes, my brother’s girlfriend since middle school was named Panda. She’d been named Sally once, but she’d hated the name and changed it to Panda when she was fifteen years old, and no one questioned it, aside from the endless snide comments I’d made over the years.

He cracked open a beer and took a long pull. “She’s not preggers. She was fucking with me.”

I nodded. This was Rico’s and Panda’s love language.

Cheat. Lie. Fuck with one another. Repeat.

“You do know that if you use protection, you won’t have to worry so much every time she messes with you.”

This wasn’t the first time she’d done it, nor did I think it would be the last. They were the epitome of toxic, and he’d grown so used to it that I didn’t see him ever walking away.

“I use protection sometimes. But sometimes I just want to put a baby in her.”

“Do you know how demeaning that is to say: Put a baby in her. Like she’s an object. Or a baby-making machine. It’s really offensive, Rico. And you know I’m not Panda’s biggest fan, so that’s saying a lot that I’m defending her.”

“Of course, you’re going to go all women’s rights on me. Are you still mad at Panda for stealing your navy sweater before you left for college?” He had a big, goofy grin on his face that made me want to hug him and throat-punch him all at the same time.

“No. The reasons that I don’t care for Panda are: A. Her name is ridiculous, and B. She encouraged you to drop out of high school when you were doing well.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Kingpin Weed was her idea, and it was a brilliant one. But now that pot’s legal, everyone’s doing it.”

“Yeah. It’s much easier to get a business loan when you’re selling products that are legal. It’s a wiser path.” Yes. I was fluent in sarcasm, and I made no attempt to hide it.

“I’ve never been as smart as you, you know that.”

I hated when he said that. Both of my brothers tossed that one out there all the time when they’d mess up and ask me for help. I despised it.

Was it true? Probably.

But was it their fault? No.

They were lacking the tools needed to pull themselves out of the shit life they were born into.

“Are you two just going to stand out there and gab while I’m under distress in here?” my mother shouted from the room, and Rico chuckled.

“The big, bad Jimbo gambled all the money in their savings account, so they’re not speaking at the moment.”

“How much money did he lose?”

“I don’t know. A couple hundred bucks, maybe. But Mama is real pissed about it.” I grabbed her drink and followed my brother the short distance to my mother’s smoke-filled oasis. I glanced around the room, taking in the red-and-gold bedding, the half-filled ashtrays on the dresser and the end table, and the large, nearly nude photo of my mother framed over her bed. It was giving desperation vibes with a side of I’m over the hill, and I’m not happy about it.

I moved to the window and opened it, allowing the fresh air to at least offer a reprieve from this hellish cancer causing cave.

“My god, Wendy. No one should be breathing this in,” I said.

“Of course, you call me Wendy when you know I’m down and out.”

She was always down and out—otherwise, she would be missing. She never called or made herself available when she wasn’t in a bad place.

So bad was all I knew of this woman.

“I’ve called you Wendy since I was a kid. Don’t find another reason to stay bedbound. Get up. Breathe in some fresh air. Maybe drink some milk or eat something that doesn’t come pre-packaged. You don’t look well.”

Her skin was pale and tinged slightly gray. If she didn’t spend most of her days in bed sleeping, I would have believed she was a vampire back when I was a sucker for the Twilight series. After all, the woman had a real gift for sucking the life out of the people around her.

She sat forward and held out her hand for her drink. I didn’t give it to her. Instead, I reached for her hand and pulled her up on her feet.

“You get the Coke after you take a shower. Go.” I pointed to the bathroom, and she glared at me before storming the few feet away and slamming the door.

“Damn, Sis. You’re the only one who can get her up and moving when she’s in a slump,” Rico said.

I took the beer from his hand and raised a brow. “How about you don’t drink when it’s not even noon? How’s the job going?”

“You know Oscar likes to ride my ass, but at least it’s a paying job.”

I set my mother’s glass on the dresser and shouted through the door that it was waiting for her there.

Rico followed me back out to the kitchen, where I poured what little bit was left of his beer down the drain and found a trash bag beneath the sink. I started dumping all the empty bottles into the bag before heading to the refrigerator to clean out the rotten food.

The door to the trailer swung open, and Zane stepped inside. He was a year younger than Rico and three years younger than me. My two brothers resembled one another, while I didn’t look like either of them.

It was fitting in a way. I’d never felt like I fit in here.

My father was the only one I’d ever felt like I belonged with.

But I loved my brothers fiercely, and I tolerated my mother because they couldn’t seem to escape her orbit.

“Well, if it isn’t the professor!” Zane scooped me up and spun me around. They were both big guys. Tall, broad, and muscular.

“Put me down and help me clean this place up. You guys shouldn’t be living like this.”

Yes. They both still lived at home.

Zane moved to the sink and started washing dishes. “I, uh, I was kind of hoping you could help me with something.”

Here we go.

“What did you do?” I asked, whipping around to face him.

“I sort of made a dumb bet on a horse, and Sam White is threatening to take my car if I don’t pay him by Friday.” He scratched the back of his neck, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

“How much do you owe him?” I asked.

“Three hundred bucks.”

“And you leveraged your car for a stupid horse bet?” I hissed before turning back to the refrigerator and questioning the fact that I’d willingly returned home.

In the name of my father, of course.

But this was the reason that I hated coming back.

I could feel myself being pulled under.

Even my breathing felt more constricted when I was home.

I felt trapped here.

I’d wanted a different life, and that was why I’d left.

I loved my brothers; I just didn’t know if I could save them and save myself at the same time.

Zane gave me that sad, pathetic look that he always used when he fucked up.

I let out a long breath. “Come by the bar later in the week and I’ll get you the money.”

He wrapped his arms around me from behind, and I shook him off.

I was enabling him, and I knew it. But I didn’t know how else to help him. I’d tried getting them both jobs. I’d bailed them out of endless shit. Talked ad nauseam about them moving away and changing their lives. Coming to stay with me in California. About going back to school to get their GEDs.

But it never went anywhere.

And I was more than aware that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome.

So, I just tried to bandage things the best I could.

“Damn. Ruby always knows how to fix things,” Rico said.

I turned around to face them.

“Yeah. I’m the Ray Donovan of this shit show,” I grumped as I tied the garbage bag and moved to the door to set it outside. I sucked in the fresh air and waited until the queasy feeling I had from the rotten food was out of my system.

“Who the hell is Ray Donovan?” Zane asked.

“It’s a TV show.” I shook my head.

“Oh, yeah, with that actor, Liev Schreiber?” Rico nodded, like he knew exactly what I was talking about. “He’s a fix-it guy, right?”

“Yes. People make endless bad choices, and he cleans up their shit. Sort of like me with you two.”

“You are the Ray Donovan of the family,” Zane said, hooking an arm around my shoulder and kissing the top of my head.

“Lucky me.” I rolled my eyes and thought about it.

It had been this way since I was a little kid.

Moving away hadn’t really changed much.

They still called.

I still answered.

Maybe this was just my purpose.

But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it was exhausting.