“Patrick, we needed that money!”
Sam wraps himself tighter in the blanket. He needs his mother, her soothing touch and soft words, but he can’t call for her.
“Shut up, Edie.”
Charlie can’t sleep. He can’t bear to stay awake, either. He envisions his parents’ wedding picture. Mom is smart and pretty. How could she end up with such a jerk?
“What about the kids, Patrick? What about them?”
Sam clutches his stuffed dog close to him. He’d like to yell out, to tell his daddy that he needs to stop talking to mommy like that, but he knows he should keep quite.
Charlie rises up in bed. He grits his teeth, punching his fist into the other hand. He swears that one day he’ll get his revenge. Someday he’ll get his dad for this. He will. He stands up, peeking over the bunk bed and looking at Sam.
Sam is scrunched into a corner. Charlie climbs up the ladder and sits beside him. He holds his arms open and gives Sam a long hug, patting his back as Sam sobs gently into his shoulder.
Charlie looks to the side and slowly allows a tear to escape his eyes. Why, dad, why?