“Go to sleep, Ron. I’m too drunk to have this conversation with you.”
“Fine,” I huff, reaching over and turning off the lamp. “Just promise me something.”
“Anything,” he mutters, sleepily.
“Promise you won’t forget this conversation in the morning.”
He kisses my shoulder in response. “Sleep.” And because there’s nothing else to say, my eyes close and I drift off into a dreamless sleep.
11
Chapter 11
Devin, age 10
Good days don’t visit my house very often. Actually, since Roni’s mom left, it’s like good days don’t exist anymore. Mom’s sad because her best friend is gone, and Roni’s sad because her mom is gone, and Dad and Noah spend all their time at the basketball court and I’m left here all alone.
But today is a good day. Red and green wrapping paper fly past my head as I tear into my last gift. It’s Christmas morning, and everyone is sitting around the tree in our matching PJs. Well, Mom and Dad’s match. I had to share mine with Noah; he got the top and I got the bottoms. Mom forgot to buy him a pair, which of course caused a big fight.
Dad made us go upstairs, and after they yelled at each other for a little while longer, he stormed up the stairs and made me give Noah my shirt.
“What is it?” my brother asks, tying the laces of his new basketball shoes.
I tear the last of the paper off and squeal like a little piglet. “It’s a guitar!” I shout, holding it by its neck and lifting it in the air like a trophy. I’d been begging for this for the last year, but Dad said it was too much money even though he spends way more on hotel rooms traveling for Noah’s away games.
I run my hand down the wood grain in awe. I can’t believe they actually got me the guitar. I set it down and run over to them. “Thank you.” I smile and wrap one arm around each of their necks. Dad runs his hands through my hair and bops me on the nose. “You earned it, buddy.”
I run back to my guitar as Noah slips his other foot into his new shoes. “Do you know how to play this thing?”
I drop to the ground and pick up my newest favorite thing. I settle it onto my lap like I’ve seen them do on MTV and pluck at the strings. Thwang. The guitar makes a godawful sound and everyone laughs. I pluck it again and it makes the same noise. Noah claps me on the back. “Sounds like you should have asked for an instruction manual to go with it.” He stands and grabs the blue and gold basketball he also got for Christmas. “Dad, can I go outside?”
Dad nods. “I’ll come with.”
“But what about my guitar?” I ask. “Maybe we can look up some videos on how to play?”
“Come out and play with us,” Dad says slipping his shoes on. “We can look up videos after breakfast.”
I frown. “We always do what Noah wants.”
Noah stands by the door, shuffling from one foot to the other. “It’s okay, Dad. I can go out by myself, and you and Devin can watch guitar videos.”
Dad frowns at Noah, watching as he slips out the front door. Once the door closes behind him he returns his attention to me. “Dev, I know you’re excited about the guitar, and I promise we can spend the rest of the evening practicing, but Noah’s mom and Richard are coming to pick him up in a little bit, and then we won’t see him until after New Years.”
“But we always do what he wants. Why can’t we do what I want, just this once?”
“Buddy, I know it seems like when Noah’s here he gets all my attention, and I’m sorry, that isn’t fair to you, but he doesn’t get to spend as much time with me, and your mother isn’t always exactly welcoming.” He shakes his head. “I just want him to feel at home here.”
“But this isn’t his home. He lives in a mansion on the other side of town. He has everything, Dad. Everything. Why can’t I have this, just this once?”
Dad’s eyes drop to the ground. “I’m trying, Devin.”
I huff. “It's fine. Go play with your favorite son. I snatch the guitar by the neck, jam my feet into my slippers, and stomp towards the back door.”
“Where are you going?” Mom asks as I storm past her into the kitchen.
“To show Roni my guitar.”
“You should go outside with them.” She looks over her shoulder and narrows her eyes at Dad as he retreats out the front door.
“I don’t like basketball,” I snap. “Why won’t everyone just leave me alone about it, already?”
Mom shakes her head at me. “That boy is coming in between you and your father, and you’re just going to let him.”
I stare at the door as it shuts behind them, and then look back at mom. “Noah wouldn’t come between Dad and me. We’re brothers. Plus, he’s only here every other weekend.”
Mom cups my face. “My sweet boy. My stupid, naïve boy.” I blink at her, as she straightens. “Breakfast will be ready in forty-five minutes.”
I shake off her words and bound down the back steps. It’s cold out and the wind whips through my pj’s. I jog across the yard and knock on Roni’s door. Her dad answers with a sleepy grin on his face. He glances down at his watch and the movement causes the brown liquid in his mug to slosh over the sides. “I was wondering when you’d turn up.”
I hold up my gift. “Look what I got!”
He chuckles. “Nice.” He tips his head inside the house. “Roni’s in her room.”
“Yes, sir.” I race past him into the house, and down the hallway to Roni’s room. The door is open and I can her banging around inside. I push my way in and she’s standing in front of an easel. There’s a case full of markers laying open at her feet and pages are scattered all around her. She has her lips pursed at the page in front of her. “Wow!” I say motioning to the sketch of the flower she’s drawn. Her head swings my way. Her brown hair is pulled back into two pigtails on either side of her head and her glasses sit low on her nose. Her unicorn onesie is a light blue swirled with purple, and I assume they are her Christmas pajamas because I’ve never seen them before. “You’re getting really good.”
She frowns at me. “I messed up the stem. Plus, I don’t know which color to make it.” She holds up a yellow marker and a blue one. “Sunflowers are usually yellow, but I really like the blue.”
I walk over towards her and flick one of her ponytails. “It’s your art, it can be whatever color you want.”
She grins at me and uncaps the blue marker. Her eyes fall to my guitar and she squeals. “You got it?”
I hold it up proudly. “Yup.” She sets the marker on the easel’s edge and holds her hand out. I hand the guitar over for her to inspect. “I don’t know how to play it yet, but Dad promised he'd help me once Noah leaves,” I sneer.
Roni arches her brow at me. “Why do you sound angry about it?”
“Dad always puts Noah over me.”
She scrunches her nose and I can’t help but bop her on it. “No, he doesn’t, you dumb dumb.” She runs her hand down the back of the guitar and I watch her movements. “Noah is sad, and I think sometimes your Dad goes a little overboard to make him feel better.”