Shallow Creek

Michelle broke away from Brendan and closed the open door leading to the hallway.

“The kids are up,” she whispered harshly.  “You need to leave now.”

“But—”

“Come on, Tenny.  I’ll distract them and you leave.  Okay?”

“Okay, whatever.”

“And don’t tell Grant,” she said.  “Please.”

He nodded and moved out of line of sight.  Michelle opened the door and rushed into the hallway.  Brendan could hear her casually corral the noisy toddler.  She yelled out an all clear, and even though her voice was muffled, he knew that was his cue.  The kids’ bedroom door was closed as he passed by in the hallway, and he could hear Michelle’s soft voice as she distracted her children.

Just as he suspected, empty beer bottles littered the living room and kitchen.  At first he didn’t even think it was possible he drank that much, but the evidence didn’t lie.  Walking felt a bit uncomfortable; taking the condom off before putting his pants on would’ve been a good idea.  Now the damn thing was tugging precariously on his privates and threatening to disengage all together.  He dragged himself onwards in slow motion as he battled the effects of a tenacious hangover.  If this was the only price he paid for last night’s stupidity, he’d be heading to Vegas next week to try his luck there on the slots.

Outside and heading to his truck, he gave the wide street a glance up and down.  With the way these things usually turned out, some nosy asshole was probably watching him leave his brother’s home looking disheveled and guilty as sin.

He was screwed.

Chapter 20

As the squad of hammer-wielding dwarves sought to smash their way out from inside his skull, Brendan wondered if it was the booze or the head injuries that caused the unrelenting pain.  Probably a combination of the two.  The stress surely didn’t help either.

From his place on the couch, he reached over and gathered up a few framed photos sitting on a shelf built into the wall.  Mostly the images depicted the good times, like family vacations when he was in elementary school.  Those days seemed so far away that he could barely believe he’d lived them.  Brendan was so engrossed in the nostalgia that he didn’t even notice his dad appear next to him on the sofa.

“How’s it going, son?”

His father couldn’t have constructed a less expected sentence if he tried.  Since when was the old man one for small talk?

“Been better,” Brendan replied as he zeroed in one on picture in particular.  He showed it to his dad.  “You remember this?”

His dad took it from him and smiled ever so slightly.  “The old cabin.”

The family had owned a cabin out in the woods way south of town.  The long journey out there had always infuriated the impatient young Brendan, but now he’d go just about anywhere to find that kind of solitude.

“You still own it?” Brendan asked.

“You see that new truck outside?”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

“Well, I had to sell the cabin to get the truck.”  His dad passed the picture back.  “After you kids were all grown and gone, your mom and I never even talked about going out there.  It’s a family place.”

“Sure.”  Brendan would’ve bought the place off his dad, but he kept that to himself.

“Would’ve sold it to your brother, but he didn’t want it.  Said he’s already got a timeshare with some buddies out in the same neck of the woods.”

“There still good hunting out there?” Brendan asked.  That had been one of the best bonding memories he had with his dad, and even with his brother.

“I reckon.”

“What happened to all the guns?” Brendan asked.  “I saw the old gun safe is gone.”

“Your brother took all the rifles and just left me my shotgun.”  His dad smiled.  “Good thing your mom didn’t take your head off with it the other night.”

The inside of his head felt like he’d been shot.  The throbbing was extremely disorienting.

“I guess Grant took your pistol, too,” his dad said, stroking his chin as he searched deep in the old memory banks.

“The one with my name on the grip?  The one you gave me?”

“That’s the one.  Haven’t seen that thing in years.”

Brendan made a mental note to get his gun back from his brother while pretending that he hadn’t slept with his wife.

“Brendan, where’d you say you stayed last night?”

And here it was: Brendan’s first opportunity to lie.  He knew that every second he didn’t answer the simple question incriminated him more and more, but he honestly couldn’t think of anything good to say.  Why he hadn’t prepared for this moment was beyond him.

“You said you were going to check on Michelle when you left,” his dad prompted.

“Yeah, I did.”

“So, did you stay there?” His voice was even and neutral, which worried Brendan.

“I—“

His dad looked at him expectantly.

“I’ve got to go do some stuff,” Brendan said as he set all the pictures back on the shelf.  As he walked away from his dad, the fog in his mind cleared just enough to kick him in the ass for acting so damn guilty.  At the front door, he turned and found his dad had quietly followed him.

“You gonna do better than that, son?”