Darling by Brad Hodson Page A

“You should hold that against your face. It’ll keep the swelling down.”
    Mike nodded and placed the bag against his jaw. He hissed at how cold it was, jerked it away. Grimaced. Reapplied it. “Burns.”
    “Yeah. Don’t hold it there for more than thirty seconds, then reapply it every minute or so. There’s a bag of broccoli up there, too, when that starts to thaw.” Dennis slumped down in his brown leather chair, one of the few things he still had of his mother’s. It always made him feel good, no matter what he was sick with or what problems bothered him. The chair soaked these worries up like it did his body heat.
    Aside from the chair, all he owned of hers was a silver crucifix, an old rocking chair she used to scoot next to the fire and knit in, and a framed picture of her and his father on her prom night. He loved that picture most of all; she was so young and vibrant in it and he could almost hear the laugh that had been captured on her face every time he looked at it. Her long hair hung down over her green dress, tangling around the white corsage she wore. Her eyes were brilliant and smiled with the rest of her face. Behind her his father stood in his Marine dress blues, the lights glinting from his gold buttons and creating a thousand tiny lens flares. His hair was cropped close and his face gentle; smiling in response to her laugh, unable to hide while in her presence the way he would later in life, after she had gone and all he had were anger and tears. They were happy in that picture, before Dennis came along, and he cherished it.
    He wondered if Mike’s family was ever that happy?
    They weren’t at any point he had known them. Even before Allison had died, the Pritchett family was… off. That was the best word he could think of to describe them. Just off . He knew they loved their children, and he assumed they loved each other, but there was always a stream of acid flowing through that home.
    He was going to mention it to Mike, but thought better of it. “So,” he said, “the car.”
    “Yep.” Mike pulled the ice pack away and grinned.
    “How does it feel? The car, the apartment, school…?”
    “Good.” He nodded, and then shrugged. “I don’t know. A little scary, too.”
    “Yeah. I understand that. It’s always a little frightening to take control for the first time.”
    “It’s not just that. I mean, that’s a big part of it and everything, but what if…never mind.” He reapplied the ice pack.
    Dennis leaned forward. “What?”
    “Well…it’s just…what if I fuck up?”
    He laughed. “And how would you fuck up?”
    “I don’t know. Forget an insurance payment, fail a class, break a leg. Hell, get into a car accident. I don’t know.”
    “You’re not gonna fuck up.”
    “But what if I do?”
    “Then you’ll deal with it.”
    Mike shook his head. “But what if my parents never want to talk to me again? If I fuck up royally and need their help or have to move back home or—”
    “Stop it. Okay? You’ll be fine. And you’re not going to have to move back home. Alright?”
    “I guess.”
    Dennis sunk back into the chair. “Your parents aren’t going to disown you, anyway. They love you. They’re just…”
    “Assholes?”
    He smiled. “Yeah. Assholes.”
    Mike nodded and leaned his head back onto the arm of the couch. He closed his eyes. He was silent for a moment, long enough for Dennis to wonder if he’d fallen asleep. Then: “Do you think I’m an asshole?”
    “You’re not an asshole, Mike.”
    “Hmph.”
    “A dipshit, maybe. But not an asshole.”
    Mike threw the peas at him. Dennis plucked them out of the air with one hand and jumped from his chair. “These are thawing already? I’ll get the broccoli.”
    As he passed he ruffled Mike’s hair. Mike smoothed it back into place.
    Dennis traded the bags of vegetables out. “Here. You want me to bring you a pillow and a blanket?”
    “Huh?”
    “You’re sleeping on the couch, right?”
    Mike