a lecture on how to handle my soon-to-be ex-wife.
“Put Susan aside for a moment,” Marla says. “Do we even know if Lucy remembers how to use a stove? I’m certain she probably doesn’t know what to do when she’s taking out the trash and a bear or some other animal approaches.”
“I left her a gun in the side table in the living room.”
“Adam!” Dad shouts.
“What?”
He looks at Marla and they have some private conversation with their eyes that results in Marla pulling out her cell phone and walking out the front door.
“Hey, Greene fam.” Cam kisses Marla’s cheek and walks into the house. He stops cold and looks around. “Oh, what’s the drama?” He rubs his hands together.
Cameron’s an only child, so he thrives on the drama of our large family.
“Let’s go.” Fisher grabs his coat.
“Where are you going?” my dad asks. “It’s spring cleaning day.”
“I have an appointment,” Fisher says. “And Liam is booked for months.”
“Sit your ass down.” My dad points at the couch. “Liam has a family. I’m sure he understands obligations.”
“I’m twenty-fucking-nine, Dad. You don’t run my schedule,” he says.
Dad looks outside, and when he sees she’s still on the phone, he turns back to us. “Marla asks nothing of you boys. Do you know how often the girls come over? All the time. You guys live here, never come by our place, act like you can barely make the Sunday dinners. She’s cleaning your whole house today. You damn well can help.”
Fisher looks at Cam, who blows out a breath.
“If I agree to go to Sunday dinner, can I leave today?” Fisher asks, desperate to get out of this.
“No.”
Cam pats Fisher on the shoulder. “Come on, Fish, it’ll be fun.”
“And who cleans your house?” Fisher grumbles.
“The housekeeper, of course. That’s why I like to be here. I get to roll up my sleeves,” Cam jokes, although he does have a housekeeper. That’s what happens when your family owns the majority of the fishing boats that come and go out of the port.
“I gotta reschedule then.” Fisher disappears through the kitchen.
Marla comes back in. “You should thank your sisters. They’re going to go over there tonight to spend time with Lucy, but, Adam, this is your responsibility.”
“The hell it is,” I say.
“Adam.” Dad uses his calm but authoritative voice.
I raise my hands in front of me. “Is everyone forgetting she walked out on me?”
“Did you or did you not take vows that said in sickness and in health? Did you or did you not tell her you would help her? She told Mandi that you were being so great in agreeing to show her places and things to try to help her regain her memory.”
“I did.” I weave my hand through my hair.
“Then it’s your responsibility. Why you thought you could just drop her off and let her fend for herself up there is beyond me.”
“I can’t live there,” I say.
Marla’s hand runs up my arm. “I know this is hard and we wish we could take away the pain you’re feeling, but there are three bedrooms. No one said you had to sleep with her.”
Says the woman who can’t stop touching her husband. Does she know how hard it is to be around Lucy and stop myself from wanting to sleep with her? I might hate her, but my dick says I don’t. No matter how hard I try, with the way Lucy keeps looking at me, he’s gonna win eventually.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask in exasperation.
“You move in there for the time being.” Dad stands.
“This is insane,” I grumble.
Jed, Fisher, and Cameron all stand around, not saying a word. Like they’re on her side too.
“I thought I was the damn Greene. Shouldn’t you guys be on my side?” I yell.
“Technically, she’s a Greene too,” Jed says.
Fisher and Cameron snicker.
I refrain from telling them to fuck off, and instead go upstairs to pack my shit, wishing I was an only child like Cam.
After searching the entire place for a key to the door and spending some time in each room to see if anything new comes to me, I end up in the kitchen because my stomach won’t stop growling. I open the fridge, expecting to see it empty—I figure I’ll have to call an Uber or something to take me to town—but it’s fully stocked.
Pulling out stuff to make a sandwich, I hear something outside and go still. I don’t hear anything else, so I start in on my sandwich