The Difference Between Getting and Needing

f o r t y

you are my glitter and my gloom,
i am so numb without y o u . . .

〰️〰️〰️

My dad was a cop, and a damn good one at that which meant growing up, my siblings and I never got away with shit. It didn't stop us from being stupid; we were Barclay's and everyone knew we were out of control. It was in our blood, but in my dad's eyes, being his offspring did not equate to a pardon for our shenanigans.

We could be as crafty as we wanted with our lies, even if all four of us were in on it by concocting a foolproof story with zero potholes and every detail accounted for. He would still know the truth.

He knew way too much. Too many people in town that would rat us out to him if they caught us in any compromising situation. He knew what houses always hosted the parties and the second they got out of hand. He knew where we were at all times without even needing a tracker on our cell phones. He knew that despite his best efforts for most of our lives, he could never confine us.

He was a lieutenant so his ranking on the force was somewhere in the middle. He wasn't just a regular officer, but he still took orders from a captain and everyone above them. Essentially, he held a watch on our police squad and made sure they were doing their job of keeping everyone in our town safe. Since Clearloft was the most basic suburb you could ever imagine, he often got called in to patrol nearby neighborhoods for weeks on end. The craziest crime story I'd ever heard him tell about "The Loft" was when he and his team busted a crystal meth lab in the basement of the tiny apartment building that sat just on the outskirts of our so-called "pristine suburban paradise".

He was good at his job, and he was just an all-around good guy. Even with his career, he was always the one keeping things lighthearted which balanced my mother's militant methods of raising us. She was the stickler, he was the carefree soul. He was sharp, hilarious, and (best of all for his well-being) retired from the day I got my college degree.

When the last weekend in March rolled around and my entire family was planning to reunite in honor of my dad speaking at an awards ceremony for the guys currently on Clearloft's police force, I wasn't the least bit surprised. Lieutenant Calvin Barclay was highly admired by officers of all ages and he had an affinity for making speeches. It was only fitting.

It was also fitting that Gus and I took this weekend as our chance to tell our families about our drunken-elopement-turned-relationship-saver.

Gus and I hadn't seen either our families since Sutton's wedding. Ending phone calls early with my mom – or Gus' mom for that matter – was my go-to technique in ensuring I wouldn't blab the news. We blamed our recent absence in their lives for the last two months on being "super busy at work", which wasn't totally a lie. We were avoiding them at all costs until we were ready to tell them the truth.

Now that I was older and no longer living at home, it was easier to keep things from my parents. My dad couldn't keep track of where I was, who I was with, or what I was doing like he did when I was a teenager. My mom couldn't pry into the details of my life as much as she wanted to, though she still tried and for that, I gave her credit. Lying and secret-keeping had always come second nature to me – nowadays it was just a reflex.

I guess that was where Sutton got her detective genes from – our dad. Asher was the baby, the ideal child, the perfect specimen every parent wanted who could do no wrong. Poor Duncan, although he looked just like our father, was a forgetful blabbermouth who couldn't sneak around to save his life. I was the second youngest, the least paid attention to for the most part, and my siblings loathed me for it.