Last Christmas (Bound Together) by Marie Coulson Page B

shoulder. “Well, I’m back now. Let’s go inside and see her. Yeah?” Grabbing my overnight bag, I headed for the house as Patrick ran ahead of me.
    I reached into my pocket and saw a text from Kate.
    Hey Ollie.
    I got your message. Too bad you had to bail. Maybe next time. Thanks for last night. I had a lot of fun. Maybe we can do that next time you’re around too.
    Kate xx
    I walked into the house and saw my mom sitting on the couch. She immediately got to her feet and wrapped me in a hug.
    “Oh baby. I’m so glad you’re home.”
    Baby? Was she serious? She clung to me for dear life but I remained cool toward her. I still wasn’t ready for affectionate encounters with her. Pulling away she turned to Patrick and asked him to leave the two of us alone. I eyed her suspiciously.
    “What’s going on? Patrick said you’ve been all sad and shit since I left. I’ve only been gone like two days.”
    She shook her head and I could see tears in her eyes.
    “Come and sit down Oliver. I need to talk to you.”
    I walked over to the couch and slumped down onto the plump cushions. She sat beside me and took my hand in hers.
    “Ollie. There’s no easy way for me to tell you this. Your father is very sick. He’s dying.”
    What!? I stared at her in total silence. My expression was so dead I think it shocked her.
    “Did you hear me Ollie?”
    I nodded. “I heard you. I just don’t care.” She gasped and held her hand to her mouth. “Oliver, that’s an awful thing to say. He’s your father and-“
    I stood abruptly and walked across the room, away from her.
    “I don’t care. He may have been the asshole that knocked you up, but he was never a father to me. Was he my father when he was drinking his way through a bottle of Jack instead of being at my school play? Was he my father when he was beating the shit outta me for knocking his beers over on the carpet? Or maybe he was my father when he was carving the words little prick into my arm with a broken bottle. That bastard never did anything but make my life hell. I have nothing to be upset about.”
    “ It’s a goddamn service to society that he’s sick or dying and I won’t be attending any shitty funeral when he does croak either. So don’t even ask.”
    She opened her mouth to speak but obviously decided better of it. I hated that man with every bone in my body. I didn’t care that he was suffering but curiosity got the better of me and I had to ask.
    “What’s wrong with him?”
    Mom gazed at me and wiped at her tear stained face. “He has cancer Oliver. You need to know something. He made me promise not to tell you but now with all that’s happening, I see no reason for it to be a secret.” She patted the seat beside her and begrudgingly, I sat down.
    “Last year your father called me. He asked me to come see him at the state pen. He’d hired someone to track me down and said he had to talk to me, that he needed me to do something. So, I went to see him. For a long time I considered not going but he sounded pretty desperate and I felt bad for him. We were so young when we had you kids. I was only sixteen when I got pregnant with your brother. With my parent’s being Catholics, abortion wasn’t an option. So, your father and I had to get married. Neither of us wanted to, but we didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t a happy marriage and when I got pregnant with you, I was eighteen. I was a screwed up kid who had no idea what she was doing. Your father wasn’t much different. He worked all day and I was pretty much on my own. My family wouldn’t help me and your father’s family had shunned him the day we announced I was pregnant. When he lost his job, things just went from bad to worse. He started drinking and we drifted further and further apart. That’s when I met Andre.”
    I scowled at the mention of his name. Andre, or Uncle Andre, had been a friend of my mother’s for a long time before they ran off together. He was the reason she started