Tyler
“Your dad won’t be able to make it tonight.” Mom said that morning, a glass of wine balanced between her fingers. “He had an emer—”
“Emergency at work.” I finished for her. “Cargo problem. Has to be in Miami by midnight. The world ends if he isn’t there.”
“Tyler.”
I looked at her for the first time since I walked downstairs, catching that familiar look she gave me when she felt I was spiraling again.
“I don’t like your tone.”
“By now you should know I’m used to him never being around, Mom.” I said dryly. “He’s never available.”
“Tyler,” she called again, a little sharper this time.
Then she watched me for a moment before dropping the glass.
“He wanted to be here, okay?” She said calmly. “It’s just not his fault he moves around so much.”
I nearly groaned.
Maybe throw my
