Whispering With You

3. Screwing with my head since she grew boobs.

Kelly

YANKING OPEN THE FRONT DOOR OF MY HOUSE, I lumber through the mud room, pass through the living room on my way to the kitchen, where I grab two beers from the fridge. A wet nose sniffs the empty hand at my side, and I absently pet the head of my dog, an aging golden retriever named Lexi. She follows me as I cross the spacious room, slide open the deck door, stepping out into the muggy night. I pause on the stoop, Lexi by my side, and the motion detector lights instantly flicker to life. I squint against the sudden brightness, bow my head and slink into a creaky, wooden rocking chair. Popping the top off one of the beers, I tip it into my mouth, swallowing a good third of the cool liquid before I relax into the chair on a sigh.

Lexi ambles off to the yard to do her business and eventually makes her way back to the deck, spinning in a circle a few times before plunking her body down next to me, exhaling a breathy sigh. I lazily rock the chair back and forth, the groans of the old wood the only sound, other than the faint clinking of chimes in the distance. It's breezy tonight, the airflow keeping the mosquitoes at bay.

I take another pull of the beer and pause mid-drink when the lights turn off suddenly. Instead of moving to activate the lights, I still my movements to avoid tripping the sensors, the darkness a welcoming presence.

Thank fuck today is over. It dragged on with endless bumps and worse case scenarios. Running my own business is tireless, thankless work, but I have no regrets leaving my dad's construction company, much to his roaring disapproval. I got the house flipping bug after my grandpa left me money in his will and I used it to buy my first fixer upper, and it just kind of stuck.

I click my heel against the sturdy boards of the deck. This house was my first flip. Well, it was supposed to be, but I moved in temporarily and then never left. It's been a learning curve, and I learned most of my lessons in this very house during the renovating process. That's why I'm not surprised today was such a shit show. Sometimes you just have days where nothing goes exactly right. Today, it was delayed parts that are vital to our current project, which subsequently pushes back the timeline. Again.

That stuff feels insignificant when compared to my afternoon pop-in guest. My father stopped by to ram more guilt and passive-aggressive bullshit down my throat. I'm not visiting my mom enough, he bitched. It's a shame I left him high and dry at the company (very fucking untrue, by the way), because now they're struggling to find adequate help. Same old lines he's been throwing at me for years.

I cringed when I saw him waiting in the office for me, and I wondered if I could sneak out and text one of the team members that I had to run an errand, be back later. But I knew I would just be prolonging the inevitable. The man obviously felt the need to unload; me, his unfortunate victim.

I swallowed my groan and faced the music, barely tuning in as he droned on and on.

A mosquito buzzes around my ear and I swat it away. I discard the empty beer bottle, lifting the second one to my lips. The liquid has lost its cool temperate, warming slightly in the hot summer night. It's still refreshing as it makes its way down my throat.

At least tomorrow is Friday, and I don't need to put any hours in on Saturday since the delayed parts have paused any major work. Friday means Roxy's for beers with friends. Well, mostly Jensen's family, really. They kind of adopted me into their tight circle when I was a kid, and I was no idiot then nor am I now. I know a good thing when I see it, and being part of the Andersons' inner circle is a good thing. Probably the best thing.

My own family never felt quite right. My dad's never-ending criticisms paired with my mom's passive positivity didn't make for the most welcoming or healthy environment. I always tried my hardest to be away from the house as much as possible. It was pretty easy since I was barely noticed at the always chaotic and bustling Anderson house anyway. What's one more body to shuffle around or mouth to feed when you already had a full house and a full table.