Read Online Closer Home by Kerry Anne King - Free Book Online Page A

started working days at McDonald’s and teaching all my music lessons in the evenings. Mom’s in the hospital with the worst bout of depression she’s ever had, which is saying something. There are going to be medical bills. Dad hit a point a few months ago where his drinking carried over from something he did after work to needing a couple of shots in the morning, and the whole functional alcoholic thing went out the window. Showed up to work one morning so drunk his boss couldn’t help but notice, and that was the end of his job. He hasn’t been fully sober since, far as I can tell. Callie applied for welfare, but I make too much money for her to qualify for more than a few dollars in food stamps, at least as long as she lives with us. Dale and I don’t really talk these days, and I can’t ask him for help, not with this.
    “There isn’t anything else,” I say. “Money only stretches so far.”
    “We have to have formula.”
    “Obviously. So maybe you should get a job.”
    She sighs. “We’ve been through this. With the sort of job I’d get, we’d pay more for day care than I’d bring in.”
    This is true. I’m the one who crunched the numbers to figure it out. But something’s gotta give, and I’ve got nothing left.
    “Time to tell me who the father is.” I hold up a hand to shush her before she even gets started. “Yeah, I know. You want to raise her yourself and all that. But we need some help here, Callie. He could at least be buying formula.”
    “Not happening.”
    I know to shut up. Anything I say at this point might as well be preached at a statue, but I can’t help myself.
    “She needs a father. Not just for the money, either.”
    “Lot of good that’s done us.”
    “Dad wasn’t always like this, Callie. It’s Mom being sick and—”
    “Just shut up, will you? I’m sick of you defending him. He can get off of his ass and help out. The money he spends on booze and smokes would more than pay for anything Ariel needs.”
    She’s got her back to the door and doesn’t see Dad shuffle into the doorway and stop to listen. He looks like hell. Since he lost his job, he’s been shrinking. His clothes hang loose on his bony frame, as if they were made for a different man. His hair needs a wash and he hasn’t shaved in a week. Tomorrow I’ll have to bully him into the shower.
    He sways a little, blinking, but he’s sober enough to register what Callie’s saying.
    “I put a roof over your head,” he says. “Food on the table. You could have a little respect.”
    My soul shrinks down small in my body, wanting to get away. I hate conflict, and there’s no way this isn’t going to turn into a big scene.
    Callie rolls her eyes, snatching the bottle out of Ariel’s mouth and slamming it down onto the table. “Oh, please. Give me a break.”
    Ariel starts wailing, wanting the rest of her bottle and scared by the shouting.
    “Watch your tone. I don’t have to put up with this from you.”
    “What are you going to do about it? Have another beer?” Shoving back her chair, Callie flounces across the kitchen and flings open the fridge, revealing a twelve-pack of Bud and a whole lot of nothing. She pulls out a can, pops it open, and holds it out. “Fridge is full of this shit, and there’s no formula for the baby. But here. Have a beer. You know it’s what you came in here for.”
    “Callie—”
    “Shut up, Lise. He’s a big man, he can speak for himself.”
    Moisture glistens in my father’s eyes, and I find myself hoping, desperately, that he’ll say no, just this once. I want this to be a storybook world where he takes the can and dumps it down the sink. At least, I want him to be shamed enough to turn around and walk away, coming back for his beer when Callie is elsewhere.
    But the beer draws him in, one step at a time. As he takes it from her hand, he says, “Nobody asked you to get pregnant. If you’re grown up enough to talk to me like that, you can go be someplace