Life's Fear

Chapter Forty-Five

Dinner was a sordid affair that night.

Dad made an appearance, but then took his food right back to the study. Kendall struggled with her knife and fork; all through the meal she couldn't seem to grasp the motion or find a flow on how to use them. She kept dropping her knife considering she uses her right hand for it, and she just couldn't seem to chop up her meat properly.

In the end, Mum took it off her and did it for her. Kendall's cheeks heated up immediately and after she mumbled, "Thank you," though whether Mum heard her or not was a mystery. Either way, she kept her head down for the rest of the meal and only Yvette, Carmen and Warren seemed to talk between themselves, and even when they did that, it was only occasional.

In that moment, when Mum was cutting up Kendall's pork chops for her, I realised that we'd become such a broken, dysfunctional family and we were concealing the truth. We used to be happy. That was before I met Jason and got involved with him. Dad would never have started drinking if it had been for me. Kendall would not have a broken wrist, and Mum would not be feeling so defeated and inferior.

After dinner, I went to help Mum wash the dishes as part of the condition that granted me permission to see Jason after school. But when she looked at me, I realised she had forgotten, despite having only done it yesterday. "It's okay," she said, "you go upstairs and finish your homework. I don't mind."

"Are you sure?" I asked her, despite her smiling in my direction. The smile was not aimed at me solely, I realised. She was just smiling. She wanted to be alone. I didn't wholly blame her.

"I'm sure."

So I ambled away feeling quite feckless. I was already to blame for Dad's sudden excessive drinking, but now Mum didn't even want to be around me for very long. Not only was it disheartening to realise this with your family, but by the time I made it to the bottom of the stairs, I couldn't bare just hiding myself away in my room like Dad had been doing and keeping to myself as Mum was now doing.

Accompanied by a surge of boldness coursing through me, I opened the door to the study and was quite delighted to witness Dad's barely-touched food on his desk. There was a glass of water by the side of him that was almost empty. At least he was drinking more alcohol, I thought, especially after what had transpired after I left for school. To think I was walking, blissfully unaware of what was occurring at home, with Jason by my side, when in reality, it was all my fault.

"You can't do this," I said to him.

There were no signs of empty beer bottles in the study, so I had a good inkling that he hadn't been drinking today which I was thankful for. It would make this proclamation just that little easier without the egotistical attitude induced by alcohol. Then again, maybe him feeling shameful and regretful was how he should be feeling, but perhaps it wouldn't work well in conjunction to what I had to say, and I had a feeling I was about to commence with a rant.

"I'm not doing anything, Blair," Dad replied, leaning his elbows on his desk and planting his face in the palms of his hands. He looked rough today; that'd be the hangover, of course, mingled with remorse for throwing the plate directly at Kendall.

"That's my point. You're hiding out in your study like some coward when you should be taking responsibility for what you've done these past few days, and especially today. You couldn't even bear sitting there with Kendall next to you as she'd struggled to use her knife and fork because of what you've done to her."

"I've apologised to Kendall." His voice was small and petty. He had almost no emotion in it, but I wondered whether that was down to the hangover. Did he have a headache or something? "Please, just go finish your homework, Blair."