Beautiful Oblivion (12 page)

“Dad!” I yelled.

“Did you just raise your voice to me in my house? I oughta come across this table and slap your sass mouth!”

“Felix, please,” Mom begged.

“I remember her,” Trenton said. He was showing an exorbitant amount of control, but I could hear the strain in his voice. “Mrs. Camlin’s memory is accurate.”

“So you work with her at the Red?” Chase asked, unmistakable superiority in his voice.

I’m not sure what expression was on my face, but Chase lifted his chin, defiant.

Trenton didn’t answer. Chase was corralling us into a trap, and I knew exactly why.

“Which job, then?” Chase asked.

“Stop it,” I said through my teeth.

“What do you mean which job?” Dad asked. “She only has one job, at the bar, you know that.” When no one agreed, he looked to Trenton. “You work at the Red?”

“No.”

“So you’re a patron.”

“Yes.”

Dad nodded. I sighed in relief, grateful Trenton wasn’t giving any more information than necessary.

“Didn’t you say you were working a second job?” Chase asked.

I pressed my palms flat against the table. “Why? Why are you doing this?”

Coby caught on to what was happening, and stood up. “I just remembered. I have a . . . I have to make a phone call.”

“Sit down!” Dad yelled. “You don’t just stand up at the dinner table! What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“Is this true?” Mom asked in her quiet voice.

“I took a part-time gig at Skin Deep Tattoo. It’s not a big deal,” I said.

“What? You can’t pay your bills? You said that bartending job makes you a month’s worth in one weekend!” Dad said.

“It does.”

“So you’re spending more than you’re making? What did I tell you about being responsible? Damn it, Camille! How many times have I told you not to get the credit cards?” He wiped his mouth and threw his napkin on the table. “I didn’t whip your ass enough as a child! If I had, you might listen to me once in a goddamn while!”

Trenton was staring at his plate, breathing faster, and leaning a bit forward. I reached over to touch his knee.

“I don’t have credit cards,” I said.

“Then why in God’s name would you get a second job when you’re still in school? That doesn’t make any sense, and I know you’re not stupid! No daughter of mine is stupid! So what is the reasoning?” he asked, yelling as if I were across the street.

Mom looked over at Coby, then, who was still standing, and the rest of my family did, too. When recognition lit my father’s eyes, he stood up, pounding the table as he did. “You’re on that shit again, aren’t you?” he said, holding a shaking fist in the air.

“What?” Coby said, his voice raised an octave. “No, Dad, what the fuck?”

“You’re on that shit again, and your sister is paying your bills? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Dad said. His face was red, and there was a line so deep between his eyebrows, the skin around it was white. “What did I tell you? What did I say would happen if you got near that shit again? Did you think I was joking?”

“Why would I think that?” Coby said, his voice shaking. “You don’t have a sense of humor!”

Dad ran around the table and attacked Coby, and my mother and brothers tried to intervene. There was yelling, red faces, pointing, but Trenton and I just watched from our seats. Judgment and shock were absent from Trenton’s face, but I was sunk back against my chair, completely humiliated. No amount of warning could have prepared him for the weekly Camlin circus.

“He’s not using again,” I said.

Everyone turned to me.

“What did you say?” Dad said with labored breath.

“I’m paying Coby back. He was short bailing me out a while back.”

Coby’s eyebrows pulled together. “Camille . . .”

Dad took a step toward me. “You couldn’t say anything until now? Let your brother take the blame for your irresponsibility?” He took another step. Trenton turned his entire torso toward my dad, shielding me.

“I think you need to sit down, sir,” Trenton said.

Dad’s face morphed from anger to rage, and Coby and Clark held onto him. “Did you just tell me to sit down in my own fucking house?” he said, screaming the last bit.

Finally Mom yelled, her voice breaking. “Enough! We’re not a bunch of wild animals! We have a guest! Sit down!”

“See what you’ve done?” Dad said to me. “You’ve upset your mother!”

“Felix, sit!” Mom yelled, pointing at Dad’s wooden chair.

He sat.

“I’m so sorry,” Mom said to Trenton. Her voice was shaking as she nervously situated herself in her seat. She dabbed her eyes with her cloth napkin, and then put it gently in her lap. “This is very embarrassing for me. I can just imagine how Camille must feel.”

“My family is pretty rowdy, too, Mrs. Camlin,” Trenton said.

Under the table, his fingers began to ease up from where they had dug into my knee. I hadn’t even noticed until that moment, but my fingers found their way to his, and I squeezed his hand tight. He squeezed back. His understanding made a wave of emotion crash over me, and I had to choke back tears. That feeling vanished quickly when Dad’s fork scraped against his plate.

“When were you going to tell us that you were mooching off your brother, Camille?”

I looked up at him, suddenly angry. I knew the blame was coming, but having Trenton beside me made me feel a surge in confidence I’d never felt around my father. “When I thought you would behave like a mature adult about it.”

Dad’s mouth fell open, and so did Mom’s.

“Camille!” Mom said.

Dad put his knuckles on the table and stood.

“Save your voice,” I said. “We’re leaving.” I stood, and Trenton stood with me. We walked to the front door.

“Camille Renee! Get your ass back to this table!” Dad said.

I pulled opened the door. It had chips and dents in the bottom of the wood where my father had kicked the door open or closed during his many tantrums. I paused before pushing the lever on the screen door but didn’t look back.

“Camille! I’m warning you!” Dad said.

I pushed open the door and tried not to sprint to the Intrepid. Trenton opened the passenger door, I got in, and then he walked around. He was rushing to get the keys into the ignition.

“Thank you,” I said, once he pulled away.

“For what? I didn’t do a damn thing,” Trenton said, clearly unhappy about it.

“For keeping your promise. And for getting me the hell out of there before Dad came out to get me.”

“I had to hurry. I knew if he made it out there and yelled at or threatened you one more time, I wouldn’t be able to keep my promise.”

“That was a waste of an afternoon off,” I said, staring out the window.

“Why did Chase push the issue? What was the point in starting all that shit?”

I sighed. “Chase has ongoing resentment toward Coby. My parents have always treated Coby like he could do no wrong. Chase loves to rub Coby’s addiction in everyone’s face.”

“So why did you bother going if you knew that he knew?”

I looked out the window. “Because someone needed to take the blame for it.”

It was quiet for a few moments, and then Trenton grumbled, “Coby sounds like a good candidate.”

“I know it sounds crazy, but I just need one of us to think they’re good parents. If we all hated the way we were raised, it makes it more real, you know?”

Trenton reached over for my hand. “It’s not crazy. I used to make Thomas tell me everything he remembered about Mom. I just have a few vague precious memories of her. Knowing his memories were more than just dreamlike, fuzzy moments made her more real to me.”

I pulled my hand from his and touched my fingers to my lips. “I’m so embarrassed but so grateful that you were there. I never would have spoken to my dad that way if you weren’t.”

“If you ever need me, I’m just a phone call away.” He snapped his fingers a few times, and then began singing—horribly—a very loud and heartfelt chorus from “I’ll Be There” by the Jackson 5.

“That’s a little high for you,” I said, stifling laughter.

He kept singing.

I covered my face, and then the giggling began. Trenton sang louder, and I covered my ears, shaking my head and feigning disapproval.

“ ‘Just look ova ya shoulders!’ ” he squawked.

“Both of them?” I asked, still giggling.

“I guess.” He shrugged. “Mikey really does say that.”

Trenton pulled into the parking lot of my apartment, and pulled into the spot next to my Jeep.

“You going out tonight?” I asked.

He turned to me, an apologetic frown on his face. “No. I need to start saving more money. I’m going to get a place of my own soon.”

“Won’t your dad miss your help with the rent?”

“I could move out now, but I’m saving up to help him, too. His pension ain’t that great.”

“You’re going to keep paying rent to your dad after you move out?”

Trenton picked at his steering wheel. “Yeah. He’s done a lot for us.”

Trenton was nothing like I thought he was. “Thanks again. I owe you one.”

One side of Trenton’s mouth turned up. “Can I make you dinner?”

“In order to pay you back, I would need to make
you
dinner.”

“You’re paying me back by letting me cook at your place.”

I thought for a minute. “Okay. Only if you bring me a list of groceries, and you let me buy.”

“Deal.”

I climbed out of the car and shut the door. The headlights painted my silhouette across the front of my apartment as I twisted the key in the dead bolt and then twisted the knob. I waved once to Trenton as he backed away, but then he pulled back into the parking spot, hopped out, and jogged to my door.

“What are you doing?”

“Isn’t that . . .” He nodded toward a car driving fast in our direction.

“It’s Coby,” I said, swallowing hard. “You’d better go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Coby’s electric-blue Camaro jerked to a stop behind both my Jeep and Trenton’s Intrepid, and he hopped out, slamming the car door. I wasn’t sure if I should insist he come inside so the neighbors wouldn’t hear, or keep it outside to prevent my apartment from being trashed.

Trenton steadied himself, preparing to stop whatever Coby might do. Coby stomped toward me, his face severe, his eyes red and puffy, and then he crashed into me, wrapped his arms around me so tight I could barely breathe.

“I’m so sorry, Cami,” he said between sobs. “I’m such a piece of shit!”

Trenton watched us, looking as surprised as I felt. After a short pause, I hugged Coby back, patting him with one hand. “It’s okay, Coby. It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

“I got rid of everything. I swear. I won’t touch it again. I’ll pay you back.”

“Okay. It’s okay,” I said. We were rocking back and forth, and probably looked a little silly.

“Dad’s still on a rampage. I couldn’t listen to it anymore.”

We both pulled away. “Come in for a little bit. I have to get ready for work soon, but you can hang out here until I leave.”

Coby nodded.

Trenton shoved his hands in his pockets. “You need me to stay?”

I shook my head. “No, he’s just upset. But thank you for sticking around to be sure.”

Trenton nodded, glanced behind me, and then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, leaned over to kiss my cheek, and then turned to walk away.

I stood in the doorway for a moment. The part of my skin where his lips touched still tingled.

“What happened to the guy from California?” Coby sniffed.

“He’s still in California,” I said, closing the door and leaning against it.

“Then what’s the story with Trent Maddox?”

“He’s just a friend.”

Coby raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never brought a guy to the house. And I don’t kiss my friends. Just sayin’.”

“He kissed me on the cheek,” I said, sitting next to him on the couch. “I think we have more important things to talk about, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” Coby said, deflated.

“Did you find a program?”

“I’m just going to quit cold turkey.”

“That didn’t work out so well last time, did it?”

Coby frowned. “I have bills to pay, Cami. If bill collectors start calling the house, Dad’ll find out.”

I patted his knee. “Let me worry about that. You worry about getting clean.”

Coby’s eyes lost focus. “Why are you so good to me, Cami? I’m such a loser.” His face compressed, and he began to cry again.

“Because I know you’re not.”

Depression was one of the side effects of anabolic steroids, so it was important for Coby to get help with quitting. I sat with him on the love seat until he was calm, and then I got ready for work. He flipped on the television and sat quietly, probably glad to be away from the constant war that waged inside my parents’ home. If Dad wasn’t yelling at Mom, he was yelling at one of the boys, or they were yelling at each other. Just one more reason why I couldn’t wait to get out of there. Living with that was enough to get depressed. Coby wasn’t quite ready to move out on his own, so unlike the rest of us, he was stuck there.

After changing clothes and freshening up my makeup, I grabbed my purse and keys, and reached for the doorknob.

“You’re just going to stay here?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Coby said. “If that’s okay.”

“Don’t do anything that will make me tell you no the next time you want to come over.”

“I’m not staying long. Just maybe until Dad goes to sleep.”

“Okay. Call me tomorrow.”

“Cami?”

“Yeah?” I said, jerking to a stop, and poking my head back in.

“I love you.”

I smiled. “Love you, too. It’s going to be all right. I promise.”

He nodded, and I jogged out to the Smurf, praying that it would start. Thank God it did.

My drive to work was spent worrying about Coby, and T.J., and Trent, and still trying to psych myself up for a busy Saturday night.

Raegan was already behind the east bar, prepping and wiping things down.

“Hey, lovey!” Raegan said. Her bright smile immediately fell when her eyes met mine. “Uh-oh. You went to your parents’ today, didn’t you?”

“How did you guess?”

“What happened?”

“Trent went with me, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Chase found out I had a second job.”