Family Bonds

Chapter 4, Episode 4

He knew he'd gone too far when he glanced at his dad's face. Chet backed up, but not fast enough. The man's fist caught him in the solar plexus, and he doubled over. The next hit grazed the side of his face just past his eye. His back and shoulders slammed against the workbench and a toolbox fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

Chet didn't hit back, knowing that would only make things worse. "Dad! Stop!" He tried to protect his face when the man came at him again.

"Don't you—ever—talk—to me—like that!" A flurry of hard jabs hit Chet's chest and upper arms. "Hear me?"

Chet sat down hard when the man's fists again connected with his ribs. He brought his arms over his head and crouched to protect his face and midsection.

"What I did back then, what people say we did—is—none of your business. Past history." The man panted heavily.

Chet nodded, afraid to look at his father, afraid to confront the rage that was behind the man's fists as they connected again with Chet's arms, chest, ribs. "Okay, okay. I hear you."

After his father delivered another flurry of short jabs to his body, Chet blurted out, "Dad, stop! Enough." When he looked up, the man's chest heaved as he slowly backed away. Chet's cheek had started to swell. He fingered it gingerly.

After several minutes of labored panting, Chet's father asked, "Why do you get to me like that? Make me take you down?" The older man dropped his hands, sat down next to Chet and was silent, his heavy breathing filling the cavernous garage.

Because I'm onto you, old man. One of these days, I will fight back. For real. Then you'll be sorry.

"You remind me of when I was young. That must be it. What is it about you and your mouth, daring me, and you and your lead foot? Your brother never got into trouble—drinking, speeding, fighting, and girls. Why couldn't you follow his lead?"

Not that again. "All Eddie ever thinks about is business. Why would I want to follow him? And I'm not drinking anymore. I stopped, or didn't you notice? Tonight was the first time I've been speeding." He was silent. "Almost a year."

"At least you're being smart there. Because of what happened at school?"

"Figured I could live without it. The drinking, too." He dared not mention how many times he and Oliver had talked about it, and what Oliver had said about men who used liquor as an excuse for bad behavior.

Chet stared at the ground. I'm always the bad son. Maybe 'cause I'm not your real son, not like Eddie. But being adopted wasn't all bad. He'd had it easy because of his stepfather's money and his position in town. Where would he and his mother be if she hadn't married into the Barton family? Still, Chet wanted to think life might have been better if she hadn't, if he wasn't always being compared—unfavorably—to his brother, had a father who didn't use him as a punching bag.

Chet squinted at the man. "Why do you always have to remind me about what happened at school? It was an accident. Maybe you think it wasn't."

"Why you attract the girls you do, I can't figure." His father went on as if Chet hadn't heard spoken. "Except you are too good-looking. Why can't you find a nice girl, someone pretty like your mother, someone you can take care of, be responsible for?" Chet's father rubbed his reddened knuckles. "Stop thinking with your prick, Chet, trying to get into a girl's pants just because she gives you the eye."

Chet glared at him, wanting to goad the man into throwing him out. It would give him an excuse to hit back. "You did it—you—"

"Not another word, Chet. I know what you're thinking. That I did the same, so why shouldn't you. Trying to show me up, have more women than I did at your age? Is that what this is about? Are you trying to keep score?"

Chet refused to look at him. "That's not what—"

The man rubbed his cheek. "You are too much like me—in that way, anyway, and you don't seem to know when to quit." He peered at Chet. "Put cold water on your face. People are going to ask who beat you up."

Chet didn't care that his voice took on a nasty growl. "I won't tell them who, if that's what you're worried about." He looked at the older man's hands. "Check your knuckles, Dad. Mom's going to wonder about them. They're going to hurt tomorrow."

His stepfather was quiet for a long minute. "Never mind my hands. How much was your ticket?"

Chet sucked in his breath. Shit. How did he find out?

"The chief called. Said you and Greg had a little meeting on the Upland Road. How much?" His father's voice took on a menacing tone. "Don't make me ask again."

"Three hundred. I'm going to ask Oliver if I can fight it. I wasn't drunk. Only speeding, and the road was empty. Not even a trucker within five miles."

"You're not going to ask Oliver anything."

"But, Dad—I—"

"Shut up and listen to me. I'll spot you the money so you don't miss a payment to Whitman—but on one condition."

Silence met his words.

Finally, Chet asked, "What?"

"No more speeding or I take your keys. And no more talk of an apartment. Your mother will never forgive me if you move out."

He nodded, feeling trapped.

"One more thing, Chet."

"That's already two conditions."

"Stop arguing," his father's tone a clear warning. "No more girls either—local ones, anyway. Whoever it is, stop seeing her. You have no idea where she hangs out or who she's been with. I mean it."

"You don't even know her." Chet rose to his feet. "How do you—unless you..." He looked down at his father. "Did you go into my room again?"

"What if I did? The way you skipped out of here the other night, I figured you had a date. Decided I'd better check. Saw her name, that address. On Willow. She's from a bad part of town, Chet. Stay away from her. You have no idea who she sleeps with. And she's probably after your money, my money." He rose to his feet, slowly.

Chet followed him into the house and went into the bathroom to check his face.

No way was Jane the kind of girl his dad had described. She hadn't come on to him. If anything, Frannie what his stepfather suspected of Jane. She hadn't tried to kiss him or even hold his hand. One thing was sure. Chet had to figure out a way to make enough money to stop living at home. I'll ask her out again—no matter what he says. But first, he had to pay off the Whitman bill. Then he would call her.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: What does Chet's relationship with his cousin, Ashley, tell you about him? What do you think of Bert? Why is he so protective of Jane?

If you don't want to wait for the next episode, you can buy Family Bonds at katevale.com.