Yes there had been a big to-do when Rob and I showed up late for dinner. Mostly becuase there'd been no dinner. It truly made me wonder how they'd survived before I'd come along.
John Paul had informed me then that he'd be wanting to borrow my car and for the sake of peace, I'd kept my mouth shut. This of course was after he'd asked me where I got the money for the car...in front of my father-in-law, the sherriff, my brothers-in-law and my husband. If I didn't know better, I'd almost think I was married to John Paul. Perish the thought, I'd rather die. Painfully even.
"I used my money. Same as when I buy the groceries."
"How much was it?"
"Not too much." I'd locked the car and sidled around them all. Rob was long gone, having disappeared into the house. So much for our afternoon of bonding.
"Not too much," John Paul echoed, lip curling.
I should have driven slower. Another hour or so and he would have been at the bar, getting drunk and selecting his evening's entertainment. "It was well within my budget."
Discussing money made me uncomfortable. It opened up a lot of questions I wasn't ready to answer. Espeically after all the drama with Jane May and the reverend. My money, where I'd gotten it from and how much I made were no one's business, except Wade's, but he'd never disucss it with me because that would require actually having a conversation with me and he was so afraid of confrontations, he couldn't even manage that.
Sad. Just sad.
***
"I'ma need the keys to your car."
I stared across the kitchen table at my eldest stepson. It'd been seventy-two hours--barely--since we'd returned from Austin with the car and this was the conversation I'd been dreading. To my left, my husband sank into his chair. Visibly sank, shoulders slumped, head bowed. I almost felt sorry for him. He wanted no part of this confrontation though if push came to shove, he'd side with John just like he did every time. "That's not happening."
"Yes, it is. I have a date and I need your car."
"It's not happening," I said again. "Take your truck."
"I'm taking. Your car."
"I tell you what--"
"Olivia, for the love of God, just let him borrow the car. Please." As if 'please' made it somehow more palatable.
Yeah, like that was going to happen. "I tell you what--" Eyes narrowed thoughtfully, I pointed at John Paul with my fork, "--As soon as you pay back the seventy-two thousand dollars you owe your father, you can borrow my eighty-five thousand dollar car."
Everybody inhaled and then the kitchen fell silent while John Paul and I glared at one another. Or rather, he glared, while I stared, lips pursed, my best 'you can't phase me' expression on my face.
"You father took out a fifty thousand dollar second mortgage to cover your...drunk driving mishap a few years back. And buy you a new truck, which you promptly wrecked. Then he bought you yet another. The one you're driving now. And when I say 'bought', I mean literally. As in, he's making the payments--and the insurance. And do you know how I know all this?" I didn't wait for an answer. "Because I pay the bills. Do you know how that happened?" Again, I paused for milliseconds, if that. "My second day here a man from the water company came by and very courteously told me that if your dad didn't pay the water bill, he'd have to shut it off. He knew the chief was a busy man and had probaly just forgotten. So I took care of it."
I chose my words carefully, knowing that Jane May would hear all about this conversation. Probably my father-in-law too. "Then after I got back from the water compnay, the phone rang. It was the mortgage company calling because your father was behind on the second mortgage. Very behind. When I tried to talk to your father about it ... he yelled. Like he always does. 'Goddamnit Olivia, I've had a bad day'," I mimicked. "That's your father, dear." I sensed that the crisis had passed. At least the most immediate one. I'd won this round but dealing with John Paul was tricky. "Your father pays the big mortgage, his credit cards, his truck payment, your truck payments, the car insurance for both of you and half the house insurance. I pay everything else, and buy all the food. All while you, John Paul, pay nothing. You, young man, are the equivalent of a vampire. You bleed your father dry... bleed, bleed bleed and contribute nothing. You can't even get up and take your damn beer bottles outside in time for the recycling trucks once a week." Standing, I picked up my plate of now-cold food. "I get it. You had a hard life. God bless you and all that. But you ain't driving my car."
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General FictionOne of the reasons I joined Wattpad was to get back into the habit of writing. EVERY. DAY. Unfortunately, I've done a terrible job of reforming my habit. So I'm going to use this space to write stuff. Almost like a blog but probably more story-snipp...