Thomas Hewitt: End Of The Line

You Should Probably Leave

Hoyt pulled into the drive with his self satisfied grin glued to his face as per usual. He parked the car in front of the house and picked up his can of dip as he watched the family's shadows through the windows. They were in the kitchen, cooking from what it looked like. Tommy must have been in the basement, the two silhouettes were far too small to be him. It was Mama and the girl. His grin faded soon as he saw her. He shoved a good amount of tobacco into his lip and threw the can back down in the passenger seat. His lips curled as he watched her set the table alongside Mama. He despised how comfortable they looked together now. Mama was just about as soft on her as Tommy was, he thought. It wasn't unlike her to pick up strays, he should have known she'd end up cozying up to her eventually, just as she did Tommy. Only Tommy fit in easier. He was moldable, he didn't resist like the girl did. Tommy may not have been blood, but he knew his place. At least he did until she came along and batted her siren eyes at him. She knew what she was doing, she'd dug a hole in the boy's head and buried herself in deep. She had taken control of the strings Hoyt always had such a tight grip on. He was her dog now, that was apparent in his belligerent need to undermine him at every angle. Now it seemed she was wrapping a leash around Mama too. He saw that clear enough that morning before he'd left. Mama wouldn't even look at him. She'd never cared what he did to the toys he brought home before, but now her discomfort was evident. She cared about the girl as if she was the daughter he knew she would have rather had instead of him. He'd been replaced yet again, only she wasn't like Tommy. She didn't know her place, in fact she refused to step in line. She wasn't moldable, she was a problem. If the lesson he taught her the night before hadn't sunk in he had a few more tricks up his sleeve. Or maybe he'd just let her starve herself to death. He couldn't be blamed by Mama or Tommy, that would be her own doing.

He threw the car door open at let his boots hit the ground. He stood up and adjusted his belt buckle before he spit a good amount of dip out. He could smell dinner and his grin returned as he began his walk inside. He pushed the door open and hung his hat before he made his way to the kitchen. Mama and the girl were plating dinner silently, though he could tell they'd gone quiet only because he entered the room. He leaned over Ronnie's shoulder to take a whiff of the meat she'd just set down.

"Sure smells good, don't it," he said as he lingered by her ear.

He caught her wearing a grin of her own as she spoke, "Sure does."

His eyes narrowed at her oddly pleasant tone. She turned her head to look at him as she handed him the plate.

"Why don't you take a seat?" She said.

He gave her a suspicious once over before he turned to Mama, who seemed to be acting as if nothing was wrong. He didn't like that look on Ronnie's face. She was irritating him more than usual.

"Hoyt, take the plate and have a seat," Mama ordered.

He scoffed as he took it from her hands and strode over to his seat. Thomas lumbered in and sat with him, as did Ronnie and the rest of the family. They waited patiently for him to say grace. He slowly pushed his chair back and stood as he studied each of them with suspicion.

"Let's bow our heads," he muttered.

She still had that grin on her face as she closed her eyes and faced the ground. He gritted his teeth and drew in a deep breath before he began to pray.

"We were hungry and he gave us meat, we were thirsty and he gave us drink," he said quietly, "he gave us a way to survive. Amen."

Before he even had a chance to sit down he saw Ronnie tuck in to her food ravenously. He started to laugh as he took his seat.

"Well look at miss high and mighty," he said as he watched her, "guess I learned you somethin' after all. You like that, don't you?"

"Sure do," Ronnie said through her full mouth.