LISA

He'd lost his damn mind.

I made my way to the shop, where Alex was trying his best to contain Dad's drunkenness. I glanced around and saw broken glass everywhere. When my eyes made it to Jennie's car, I cringed. All the windows were shattered, and the hood had marks on it that had probably come from the bat Alex was trying to pry out of Dad's hand.

"For fuck's sake," I muttered, rushing over to them. "Dad, what the hell are you doing?!" I barked.

"I told you to get that shi-shit outta my shop!" he shouted, slurring heavily.

I wrapped my hands around the bat and yanked it from his grip then tossed it to aside. I didn't even try to talk to him because I saw his level of gone in his eyes. He was seconds away from blacking out. In the morning, he wouldn't recall a thing.

There were many problems with what he'd done to Jennie's vehicle, but the main issue was that he took his drunkenness out on more than just her car. He'd messed up all kinds of things in the shop. Each breath I took only pissed me off more as I wrapped my arms around my father and forced him to walk away. I took him to his house and tossed him into his bedroom.

He kept grumbling about the Kims family and how much he hated them. He went on about me, how much of a pain in the ass I was in his life, and then he passed the hell out.

Finally.

I went back to the shop and sighed as I looked around, resting my hands on top of my head. Alex already had a broom in hand and was sweeping up some of the shattered glass.

"Sorry I had to call you, man. It's just…he snapped. I was working on Jennie's car when he walked in and blew up out of nowhere," he told me.

"Yeah, well, sounds just like good ole pops to me," I sarcastically remarked. "You don't gotta clean it up, Alex. I got this."

"Nah, it's no big deal."

"But it is," I groaned, looking around. "This is gonna cost us a lot of money in repairs. Of course, he'll never even know the damage he caused."

"He needs help, man—like real help, or one day he's gonna end up…" Alex's voice faded away, but I knew what he was hinting at—dead.

My greatest fear was getting that call, someone delivering the news that my father was dead, and with every day that passed, the fear seemed more valid.

I helped Alex straighten up the shop the best I could, but then I told him to call it a day and we'd get back to it tomorrow. He headed out, and I went over to Dad's front porch. I sat on the top step, listening closely to make sure he wasn't making too much of a fuss inside. I stayed there for minutes, hours, and the only time I moved was to go check on him in the bedroom to make sure he was still breathing.

Then I'd return to my spot on the porch where I'd probably end up spending the night. I couldn't go back to my cabin out of fear of what I'd wake up to come morning.

"Lisa?" a small voice said, making me look up from my hands, which I'd been staring at for the past few minutes. Jennie was standing there, giving me a soft grin.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I wanted to check in…I know you said not to, but I waited a while and wanted to make sure you were okay."

I took a deep breath. "I'm fine. I'm always fine."

She grimaced. "Can I sit with you?"

"If you want to."

She walked up the stairs and sat directly beside me. She didn't say anything at first. Maybe she didn't know what to say, or maybe she felt as if I just needed silence for a while. Having her sit there felt weird, like a comfort I hadn't even known I wanted.

"I hate apples unless they're cut into slices," she finally said, making me tilt my head in her direction. "I know magic isn't real, but whenever I see a good magic trick, I feel totally shocked. I suck at playing Uno, but I'll destroy you at Monopoly."

"Random facts?" I asked her.

She nodded. "To make you more comfortable."

Each moment, I liked her more. I took a breath. "I love hip-hop and country music in equal amounts. I sing in the shower. I eat Mexican food at least three times a week, and sometimes when I have a bad day, I sing 'Tubthumping' by Chumbawamba."

She inhaled. "I can't whistle."

"I can't snap."

"I cried during every Marvel movie," she whispered.

"I still tear up at The Lion King."

She smiled the kind of smile that could make even the saddest person feel better. "I think you're a good person."

"I think you're a better one," I replied. I swallowed hard and looked down at my hands. "And I think my life is easier when you're around."

"Oh." She said softly, tilting her head toward me. "So I guess that's a mutual thing. More facts?"

"Real ones or stupid ones?"

"Real is good," she replied. "I like real. I just didn't know if you liked to share that kind of stuff."

"I don't."

"Okay, then share whatever you want."

I took a deep breath and felt her arm lightly brush against mine, but I didn't say a word. There was an extended moment of silence before I built up the nerve to speak again. It was as if my brain was debating how real I wanted to get with her. We'd pretty much skated the surface of truths without ever really digging into them.

"Kai was the last gift my mother ever gave me," I confessed. "She gave him to me a few weeks before she decided to leave my father and start her life with another man. I remember it like it was yesterday. My parents didn't let me have pets when I was little, said I was too young, but when I turned ten, they said I could get a dog. I think it was because I was bullied so badly and had no friends. They felt bad for how lonely I was as a kid. Then a few weeks later, she was packing her bags to leave."

"How did you find out she was going?"

"I saw my parents fighting in the living room. They fought for what felt like forever until Dad was just exhausted. I remember the defeat in his eyes. I think that was the exact moment he realized she was never going to be his again. She had chosen someone else, and he had a hard time with that. She was his everything—our everything—but, well, just because someone's your everything doesn't mean you're theirs. I'd begged her to stay. I literally threw myself at my mother and sobbed, pleading for her not to run away. My father had left the room because it was just too much for him. He'd checked out, I think. He'd already given up, and his heart was already so bruised, but I was just a kid. All I knew was that I wanted my mom to stay with me. I sobbed against her, pulling on her clothes, clawing at her, and she kept promising me it wasn't forever, that she would never leave me and we'd find a new normal. You know the last thing she said to me?"

"What?"

"She kissed my forehead, looked me in the eyes, and said, 'Take care of your father.'"

"Wow…"

"Shortly after, we learned about the car accident with Momo's father. My mom died instantly. We hadn't even had time to hate her for leaving before we were forced to mourn."

"Lisa, I'm so, so sorry," Jennie said as she breathed out. "I cannot even imagine what that would do to a person's soul."

I felt my chest tightening, and as I spoke, I remembered why it was a subject I never opened up about. It was hard—too hard to relive those memories. It was too hard to face that guilt all over again. Whenever I thought of the night of Mom's death, I swore it felt like I was right back there, drowning all over again.

"Maybe if I had begged for a few seconds longer, then she wouldn't have been on that road at that exact moment. Maybe if I'd held her tighter…" I whispered.

Jennie shook her head. "It's not your fault, Lisa. There's no way it was anyone's fault."

"I could've fought harder to make her stay."

"No. That's been a hard lesson for me to learn. It turns out it doesn't matter how much you beg someone to stay. If they want to go, they are going to leave regardless. All we can do—all anyone can do is learn the art of letting go, and no matter what, it's clear she loved you."

"She was my world, and after I lost her, Kai became my best friend. I felt as if somehow, he was a part of her." I lowered my head and closed my eyes. "Say something to change the subject," I begged. "Say anything to make my mind stop spinning."

Jennie cleared her throat for a second, and then she began to sing "Tubthumping" by Chumbawamba.

Almost instantly, I laughed. I needed that. I needed her there with me to ease me away from the darkness. "Great timing," I told her, releasing a breath. I allowed my shoulders to roll back and relax.

"I am really sorry, though, about your mother."

"It's all right. It's just the main reason I don't believe in love."

"You don't believe in love? Like at all?"

"Nah. I've just seen what love can be when it's found, and what it can become when it's lost. My father is who he is because of a broken heart, because he lost the love of his life. For months, he wouldn't get out of bed. He turned to the bottle to try to feel better. He tried to drink my mother out of his memory, and when that didn't work, he kept drinking and now he's just…broken."

"What was your father like? Before he changed?"

"Happy," I said. "That's the only word I can think of. He had the deepest laugh, you know, the kind that would rocket through your system and make you laugh yourself, and he was so in tune with cars. He could fix pretty much any and everything. I remember being young and watching him in awe."

"And now he's the way he is because she broke his heart."

"Exactly. I hate who he is right now, hate seeing him in this light because he pisses me off daily. I don't know who that man in that house is anymore, but I can't really blame him. The love of his life died in a pretty awful way right after telling him she didn't love him anymore. If I were him, I'd be crazy, too."

"Do you think someday he'll be okay?"

"I don't know. I hope so, but I really don't know. I've tried to get him into rehab clinics, but he doesn't want to hear it. I think he feels like what's the point? No matter what, she'll still be gone, sober or not. Plus, he'd still be sad sober—probably even sadder."

"Do you think broken hearts can be fixed?"

"Yes," I said matter-of-factly. "They just beat a little differently."

"So maybe someday your dad's heart can be fixed."

I shook my head. "For a broken heart to be fixed, the person has to want to repair it. It's kind of like a car engine—you can fix it if you take the time to work through the broken parts, but I think my dad's gotten used to how it feels—the hurt. I think that's where he's most comfortable now."

"What about your heart?" she asked. "Is your heart okay?"

"My heart left me the day she passed away."

"Oh, Lisa…" Her voice lowered, and my chest ached. "It hurts me that you're so sad."

We didn't say another word, but she didn't leave my side for a good while.

Jennie didn't know it, but at that moment, I was so happy she stayed.

I was in desperate need of someone staying with me.