“Will do.”
With a final nod, he followed his father out the door, pretending the stares from Brenda’s customers didn’t burn his back like lasers. The second his ass hit the seat, his father turned to him.
“Waste of fucking space. That’s what you are. Poisoning your siblings against me. Letting me lose my job.”
Same song, different day. As though Keith had anything to do with his father being fired from the logging mill two years ago.
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from firing back. It was fucking late, and he still had to swing by Ronnie’s bar to grab the garage’s phone so she wouldn’t have to keep it for her entire shift. Last thing he wanted was a screaming match with his sloshed father.
“I want a fucking burger,” his father said. “Swing by McDonalds and buy me a fucking burger. Do something for me for once in your life.”
After making that polite request, Earl promptly passed out with his head on the window. It bounced against the glass with every bump in the road.
Keith could have shifted his father’s head to the seat’s headrest, but fuck that.
Least of what the old man deserved was to wake up to a nasty bruise on his temple.
With bitterness churning in his gut, Keith pulled into the drive-in line at Quick Eats. How the fuck had this become his life? Babysitting an ungrateful, drunk asshole multiple nights per week.
The woman who’s tire he changed probably never had a shitty day like this in her life. Hell, the blown tire mostly likely was the worst thing to happen to her in years and she hadn’t even had to fix the problem. Money had a way of making troubles disappear.
Must be nice.
At least with the burden of managing Earl sitting on Keith’s shoulders, those troubles stayed far away from the rest of his family.
CHAPTER THREE
“THANK YOU, MA’AM. You’ve been a pleasure to work with.” The head mover of the four-person team who’d delivered her household items tipped his baseball cap in Michaela’s direction. “You enjoy your new home, ma’am.”
With a good seven hours sleep under her and two cups of coffee she’d had an entirely more pleasant encounter with the movers than she had with the man from roadside assistance. Not that his opinion of her should matter, but for some reason, she hadn’t been able to shake his instant dislike of her.
“No, thank you,” she said with a smile from her open doorway. She handed over a thick envelope with a hefty tip. “You guys have made this process a breeze. Have a safe trip back.”
Despite the chilly air, she remained propped against the door frame, watching until the enormous truck disappeared down the road. Then Michaela shut the door and leaned against it with a cleansing sigh.
Alone in her new home and ready to begin a fresh chapter of life as a sober, responsible, and hopefully kind adult. A jobless and purposeless adult, but that was okay for now. She planned to change both those facts once she figured out what fulfilled her and gave her a sense of happiness. She wouldn’t blow this second chance at life.
Not like she’d done with the first one.
With a shake of her head, she pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and called one of the two people from Hollywood she’d kept in contact with since entering rehab and the only person who knew her exact location. When she’d told her manager she was done and wanted to disappear, she’d meant it. Remaining off the press and paparazzi’s radar was priority number one. Well, number two. The first priority had been getting healthy and clean, but now that she’d accomplished that mission, anonymity rose to the top of the list.
But she wasn’t stupid. Someone needed to know how to find her in case…whatever happened. Plus, she couldn’t live without her bestie, even if she could kiss the rest of Hollywood goodbye without so much as a flicker of regret.
“Mickie,” Ralph said as he answered the phone. “How are you, gorgeous? Survive your first night in the boonies?”
A smile curled her lips. It was impossible not to light up at the sound of her best friend and long-time stylist’s voice. She could picture him standing around his luxurious condo in his fuzzy slippers with his sleep-mask propped on his forehead and the first of many coffees in his hand. “I did. However, I’m happy to have a bed tonight. Been a long time since I’ve slept on an air mattress, and I’m not nearly as young as I was then. Overall, I’m doing great.”
“Hmm.”
She could practically hear his frown through the phone.
“What?”
“You know this is me, right? The one who sat by your bed in the hospital, and who drove you to rehab, and who picked you up from rehab, and who found you this little hole-in-the-wall town to disappear your fabulous self. You know it’s me, who has never and would never judge you. Who loves you more than anyone in the world, and who wants you to be happy even if you have to move to Podunkville, USA to do so?”