Easier to Lie

Chapter Twenty-Four

The lights in my house were off and the front door was locked. Our gravel driveway was empty except for the 1959 Chevy truck my dad bought as a project. He hadn't touched it one time since he bought it four months ago. In the fenced back yard, I could hear my dog running around.

My keychain was hidden deep down inside of the bucket-style purse my grandmother gave me. I had to empty the entire thing on the porch to find my house key.

"You have a Darth Vader house key?" Eric asked when I found the key chain.

"I do. Mom wanted to get me one with owls, but Dad set her straight."

"Just when I thought I couldn't love you more."

As soon as I unlocked the door, my animals greeted me with barks, whines, and slobbery kisses. I missed them more than I realized. My dog was about ten pounds overweight, but that didn't stop me from picking him up and carrying him.

"Where are your parents? I figured they would be excited to have you back," Leah said as she tried to pet the hissing cat.

Probably getting the divorce papers, I thought. "I have no idea," I told her. "I sent them a text after we left the condo."

Leah and Adam left to tell her parents the good news about their marriage. I was worried for her. They didn't want her staying in Myrtle Beach for college, marriage was a much bigger deal.

I showed Eric around the house. I showed him the wall in the laundry room where Dad always measured my height and marked it with a Sharpie. I hadn't grown much since eighth grade. Then, I showed him the dent in the garage door from the time I pressed the gas pedal instead of the brakes. He wanted to see my room, and I couldn't remember if I cleaned it before leaving town.

"Whose room is that?" He asked, looking at the locked door.

I froze. I didn't want to open that door, metaphorically speaking. "Um," time for the truth, "my brother's."

I opened the door to my room. He didn't say anything about the Suicide Squad posters or the Riverdale comic books strewn across my bed, which had a mermaid theme on the blankets. Eric laid back and patiently waited for me to explain.

"You don't have to tell me. It's okay."

"No, you should know about him," I pulled away, so I could look into those gorgeous eyes of his. I told him everything. He held me as I cried and showed him the photo album that I had taken from Mom's room years ago. "This is all I have. I can't remember much about him because I was so young when he died. He was a good big brother to me, I remember that."

Then, the front door slammed, and the yelling carried through the house. Mom and Dad were home.

"You said it wouldn't happen again!" Mom yelled.

"I told you I need help and you're not helping me!"

"I let our daughter spend the entire summer away from us, Greg. You stayed gone the whole time. I can't help you if you're not here."

My instinct was to close my bedroom door and hold onto Eric until they stopped fighting and yelling. Not this time. I didn't want to shy away from anything ever again.

"This isn't exactly the 'welcome home' I expected," I stepped into the kitchen with my arms crossed.

"Oh, Honey," Mom was startled, "I'm sorry. When did you get here?"

My eyes darted to my dad then back to my mom. "A couple hours ago. Eric's here too." I wanted them to feel ashamed of their behavior. My mother taught me to never raise my voice to another person, yet here she was, being a hypocrite.