I warn him, giving him a look that could kill.
“Why thank you, Nigel.” She gives him a small curtsey, and Nigel winks at me.
A car door closes outside, and we all hold our breaths.
It’s him.
My anger, my exhaustion, my pain, they energize me as I march to the front door.
“What the fuck?” my father curses on the other side. “What’s all my stuff doing out here?”
When I hear his voice, his confusion, I snap. I swing the door open and yank him inside by his shirt. I shove him against the door.
“You dare put your hands on me?” he growls, shoving me back. “What has gotten into you?”
I throw the first punch and split his lip on the first try. Mom is screaming for me when she comes into the living room.
“How about you go ask your new family?” I throw another punch, my fist connecting with his jaw. “How about you go to your new son, daughter, and wife!”
His eyes turn into large circles, and his face pales when he realizes he is caught.
“Yeah, I saw you. Nigel and I followed you Friday. I saw you greet your family. I saw you treat them better than weyou ever treated us. So yeah, your shit is packed, and you can get out.”
“No, no. Amos, Linda, they were a mistake—”
“They didn’t look like a mistake Friday.” I punch him in the face again and then do something I never thought I’d do.
I whip out the gold-plated gun he kept from his grandfather that I found under his bed and point it to him.
“Amos!” my Mom screams.
“Amos put down the gun.” Nigel steps in front of Mom to protect her. “This isn’t like you. You don’t want to do this.”
But I do. I really fucking do.
Pops trembles, and his voice shakes. “What… What are you doing?”
I have no idea what I’m doing. All I see is him getting out of the car and holding roses for another woman, greeting kids, being happy with another family. “All you have done is made us miserable. I saw through your façade.”
I shove the gun against his cheek and place my finger on the trigger. “You sorry piece of shit. You’re the reason for Mom being depressed. You’re the reason this house isn’t a home. Go to your other family.”
“I love you and your mothe—” he stops speaking when I glide the gun down his jaw.
I cock the heavy weapon, and a tear threatens to leave my eye, but I made a promise to myself. “I want to kill you for what you did, but instead, I’m going to tell you to get the fuck out of this house. We never want to see you again. If you come back, I will kill you. Do you understand? If you come near Mom or me, I’ll blow your brains out.”
I push the barrel against his lips. “Get. Out. You aren’t in fucking Kansas anymore,” I sneer.
Like a coward, he runs out the door, and I tuck the gun in my waistband, locking the door behind him.
“We are going to move,” my mom says. “Away from here. I know someone in Jersey. They will help us.”
Nigel’s face falls, and the last thing I want to do is to leave my best friend, but my Mom deserves this chance at a new life.
I hate my Pops more than I ever have, and if I never go to Kansas again, it will be too damn soon.
Present Day
“B3!” the bingo announcer calls out into the megaphone.
I want to bang my head against the wall. I don’t give a flying fuck about bingo, but Prez has made me keep an eye on Homer when he goes out since he’s so damn old. We don’t want him keeling over any time soon. Boomer is paranoid Homer is going to slip and fall and break a hip.
Personally, I think Homer is going to outlive all of us. He’ll go to some remote island with all of his weed and just smoke and drink and play bingo until his dying day.
“N38!”
I place a red chip on the number and glance to my left to see Homer playing four cards and two have N38 on them. I only have the one card. There’s no way I’m going to win, not that I care. I want to go home to the clubhouse. My mind is a jumbled mess. All I keep thinking about is the woman I carried off the boat and her two sisters.
I think they