I slid along the wall, looked closely for any sign of trouble. At last, I turned to go back upstairs. I saw something out the front window. Movement. A light. I peered out the window from beside it so I wouldn’t be visible. My driver’s door was standing open. The light was on in my car. Sons of bitches, coming to my parents’ house and screwing around with my car. I flicked the outside lights on, flooding the driveway with illumination. I flung the door open and stalked outside. There was nobody around, but when I shut my car door, I saw it had words carved into the paint.
YOU’RE NEXT BITCH
I’d be lying if I said it didn’t freak me out a little, but mainly I was pissed. How dare they? Come to my home, vandalize a car I was still making payments on, and threaten me. I’d been threatened by better men, I was sure of that. But my knees were shaky, so I dialed my brother.
“Damon, we’re all okay, but somebody came to the house and vandalized my car. I’m not crazy about Mom and Dad staying here under the circumstances. Can you, I don’t know, come get them?” I asked.
“Yeah. Let me just get dressed. I’ll be over. Get Dad’s meds together, and the chart, okay?”
“I will. Thanks.”
It occurred to me after we hung up that I didn’t tell him to keep it quiet. So, by the time I had gotten my dad’s medications and chart and calendar and my mom’s new book club book into a bag, I saw headlights swing into the driveway. It was not my brother’s little half-ton pickup either. Shit.
I made it to the door before Brody could bang on it and swung it open.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper-hissed.
“Some dickhead keyed ‘you’re next bitch’ on your car and you think I’m not gonna come over? I should have been your first goddamn call Laura. Did you see anybody? Get off a shot at them?”
“First of all, no I didn’t see the person or people. Secondly, I don’t randomly fire my gun into the front yard. It could have been neighborhood kids—do I wanna blow some ten-year-old’s head off?” I asked hotly.
“Get inside, you’re not even wearing pants, Jesus Christ,” he said, backing me up into the living room.
“Sorry if I wasn’t dressed for company at two in the morning,” I shot back. “Damon is on his way to get my parents. I’ve got to go wake them and convince them to leave without scaring the crap out of them. You stay down here and open the door for my snitch of a brother,” I said.
I went up and roused my mom as gently as I could and told her that Damon was coming to pick them up. She got upset and started rushing around for clothes to pack.
“Mom, we’re not burning down the house with all your belongings in it. Grab a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. You’re just going to Damon’s. I’ll bring you whatever you need. I’m gonna go grab Dad’s CPAP and mask and the compression socks and stuff, toss it in a duffle bag, okay? You okay here?”
I hugged her, feeling suddenly teary. Somebody could’ve gotten in here and hurt my parents. She squeezed me back tight—my mom gave the best hugs in the world. It made me feel a little better.
“You take care, baby. And you might wanna put down the gun before you wake your father.”
“Oh, sorry,” I said. “I have the safety on, if that helps.” I took the clip out of the gun and set both on the nightstand.
I got my dad up and to the bathroom before I heard Damon arrive. “Thanks for coming, you fuckin’ tattletale,” I said wryly, hurrying down the steps to hug him. He hugged me and laughed.
“What? You work for him. It’s evidence in a case.”
“Go help Dad get dressed. I’m gonna get their breakfast stuff together. I know the king of Pop-Tarts doesn’t have low sodium stuff for Dad to eat.”
I put some of their meal-plan stuff in a cooler and the fruit for Dad. If he didn’t have the right snacks available, he’d pound a box of crackers in no time. So I made sure his snack stuff was in there and the lotion for his legs and feet. The iPad for him, the noise-canceling headphones for my mom. It gave me something to focus on, making sure they had what they needed. I tossed in a can of emergency Pringles in case my dad drove her nuts.
By the time Damon had Dad ready to roll, with our dad grumbling all the way about being driven from his own home in the middle of the night, Mom was waiting at the door with her purse and bag. I helped load them up, thanked my brother for the snitch and found myself alone with Brody in my parents’ house. It seemed oddly quiet and shadowy, bigger than it ever had now that they weren’t here. It gave me the shivers because I had a flash of how it would be someday, having to clean out their things with my brother after they were gone. How empty and hollow and sad that would be. I shook myself and turned to Brody.