Unsocial

by Dykes, Nicole

  I grin at his comment. She had loved to bake. Even when I was in high school and would bring my friends home, she would always have warm cookies and milk. Then I had hated it. I was sure it didn’t earn me any cool points with my football buddies. “Yeah, me too.”

  Deciding to get the call to the lawyer taken care of I pull out the business card and my cell phone. A woman answers, and then I’m connected to, “This is Edward McCullough. Am I speaking to Dylan Monroe?”

  “Uh, yeah. I’m Dylan. The lady from Social Services told me I needed to call you right away to go over my parents will. I just got the kids, and we’re home now.”

  “Do you have time to meet today to speak about their will?” he asks.

  “Yes, today’s fine. I need to find out what it says.”

  “Okay. I can meet you at your house in an hour if you’d like. That way you don’t have to bring the kids here. Does that work for you?”

  “I will be here.”

  I hang up the phone and turn to Jax. “He’ll be here in an hour.”

  “He didn’t tell you any details?”

  I shook my head. “No, just that he will be here in an hour.”

  An hour later the doorbell rings. I open it to a man in an expensive black suit. He holds out his hand, “Dylan, I’m Edward. I’d like to tell you how sorry I am about your parents.”

  I shake his hand and invite him in. I decide to show him to the dining room so we can spread out and read the will. He follows, and we take a seat at the oversized table.

  “Are the children here?”

  “Yeah, they’re resting in their rooms.”

  He nods and pulls papers from his leather briefcase. “Okay. I’ll keep this short. I know that you have had a hell of a day already. As you know, Daniel and Sylvia had no other family other than you kids. About two years ago they both came to the office and had me draw up their will. If anything were to happen to them before the younger children were 18, they made you executor. Each child has an equal inheritance of money when they turn 18 from life insurance. It should be enough to set them up for college, provided that’s what they want to do. They’ve left you the house and cars. Do you have any questions about that?”

  “No, that seems pretty clear.”

  “Good. I’ll leave a copy of these papers with instructions on the amount and distribution of their inheritances.”

  “Fine. What about the kids, though. Does it say I get custody of them?”

  “Since you’re their only living relative, it just goes to reason that you get them, Dylan. We will, however, have to go to court for you to establish legal guardianship. It’s just a formality and shouldn’t be a problem. I know you have your business in Oklahoma, so are you planning on taking the kids there?”

  “I can’t say, Mr. McCullough. I haven’t thought that far. Right now all I can think about is getting their funeral planned and taking care of the kids. I don’t know if it would be a good thing to take them away from their home. They just lost our parents. My business partner can handle things in Oklahoma City until I get things figured out.” In the back of my mind, I think to ask. “So when do we go to court?”

  “Thursday at 2:00. As of right now you have temporary custody until granted guardianship. The judge will decide that, provided there aren’t any concerns. The only concern I see him having would be your age.”

  “My age?” I question.

  “Yes, Dylan. You’re 26 years old, unmarried, and are going to have to become responsible for four minors. For some judges, that can be a red flag.” I do not like this dickhead’s tone of voice all of a sudden.

  I try to keep my cool. “I’m their brother. Why wouldn’t I get them? Plus I’m their only family.”

  “Again, you’re a young bachelor. That doesn’t exactly spin a message of being stable and responsible. And besides being your father’s lawyer, I was his friend. He mentioned on more than one occasion that you have a history of irresponsible choices.” I can feel my jaw tense, I don’t know this guy, but of course, my father has told him about my past. I shake my head and wonder why my father left everything to me when he didn’t trust me.

  I stare him down. “Fine. Court is on Thursday at 2. Got it. Is there anything special I need to bring? Maybe proof that I own a fucking million dollar business? Because, by all means, we need to show the courts that I’m responsible.” I know he can’t miss how bitter I sound.

  “Whatever you want to bring to show you make enough money as well as how stable and responsible you are will be helpful. One thing I suggest is covering up your tattoos. They don’t help send the message that you’re,” he looks at me wearily before saying, “mature.”

  Is he fucking serious? So I have ink. It’s hard to find anybody these days without a tat, or two or ten. My body isn’t covered. In fact, my ink is pretty damn tame compared to say, Jackson. I have half sleeves, some on my torso, and one on my neck. I was “responsible” when I had every one of them designed, well, except for the one of my neck. That was high school bullshit, so it doesn’t count. “My tattoos can cost me custody?”

  He looks at me like he’s irritated. Well, join the club ass wipe. “It’s doubtful the judge will see them favorably, Dylan. Just cover them and don’t chance it.” Seriously, this guy is starting to piss me off.

  He gathers up papers and puts them back in his briefcase then stands to leave. Thank Christ. It’s everything I can do not to throat punch the pompous ass. I show him to the door and head back to the living room where Jax is waiting, and, of course, the fucker is sitting there trying not to laugh, until he does, loudly.

  “How close were you to decking that jerk off?”

  “About three seconds out. He’s lucky he decided to leave when he did. Can you believe that shit? Ink is irresponsible and immature?” I’m watching him continue to laugh his ass off. “At least, I’m not as immature as your ass. You’ve got more tats than I do.” Okay, now I’m laughing. “What the fuck is this, the 1940s?”

  “Maybe because it’s Kansas.”

  “Whatever. Oklahoma’s supposed to be the Bible belt, but damn if there aren’t tattoo shops on every corner since they legalized it.”

  “Just wear a suit and put a bandage over your neck piece. It shouldn’t show that much above a shirt collar.”

  “Yeah, that’s another thing we need to do. Make sure the kids have clothes for the funeral and get some shit for us. Not to mention we need to get food. Are you planning to go to the funeral?”

  “Yup, I’ll go. Funerals aren’t my favorite, but you were there for me when my grandpa died, so I have every intention to help get you through this.”

  “Thanks, man. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with it, though. When are you planning on going home to check on the shop?”

  “I’ll leave after the funeral. How about I help you get things settled with the kids and the funeral out of the way before we worry about the business? I’ll call Joe and tell him that he and Joy will need to step up for a little while longer.”

  I wince when he mentions Joy. She’s been calling my cell phone all day and sending text messages. They started out, what I think she thought was sexy, but not so much. By the time noon rolled around they had gone more to pissed off. Right now I have no desire to go back to OKC. I still can’t decide whether I want to discuss this fuck up with Jax yet. I think I’ll just wait for her to get the message and back off. That’s usually how it works when the chicks get clingy.

  “Sounds good. Thanks. We need to decide on some dinner for us. You want to get us something or are we going to try to cook.”

  “I don’t think we should subject the kids to our cooking. I’ll grab us pizzas and pop.”

  “Get us some beer while you’re out. We need clothes too. We left without anything. Hit that mall we saw coming into town.”

  “Alright, dear. I’m going now.” Did I mention he’s a funny guy?

  While Jackson is gone, I take a seat at the table to look through the papers
the asshole lawyer left for me. One of them I notice are plans for dad’s and Sylvia’s funerals. I go ahead and call the mortuary provided in the information on the paper. Luckily, their bodies are already there, and they’re just waiting for the okay to schedule the funeral. We set it for Tuesday. Since today is Friday, we have a few days to take the kids shopping for clothes as well as us.

  When Jax returns, we round up everyone in the dining room. Conversation is subdued, so Jackson and I do our best to engage them. But with Luke, I’m met with silence and Jax is given short answers. There is definitely some anger there. Cassie and Michael talk, but it’s clear they’re in their heads nursing their grief, so I give it to them. Gabby though is nothing but emotionless and quiet. I can only imagine what the kids have been going through. I don’t know what Gabby saw when she was in that car with her parents, and I don’t have a clue what to say or how to help her because she doesn’t even know me.

  After dinner, the kids head back to their rooms. I wish like hell I knew what to say to them, but I’m lost. So taking the coward’s way out, I stay quiet deciding to try again tomorrow. I am figuring out quickly I may be in over my head with all this. Jax and I drink our beer in the living room and discuss the funeral, shopping, and our business. He throws out there the possibility of opening up a new garage here. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Another discussion I decide to shelve until later. I’m discovering a real penchant I have for avoidance.

  The weekend passes with a shopping trip to buy new clothes for the funeral and a small wardrobe for Jax and me since we hadn’t packed anything before leaving Oklahoma. I keep trying to get the kids to engage, but it’s hard. Slowly Cassie and Michael talk more and more, but Luke hangs on to his piss poor attitude, and Gabby just stays silent.

  With Luke, I think it’s just a matter of proving myself and getting him past losing his parents. Since Cassie and Michael seem to be more forgiving toward me, I don’t worry as much.

  Jax thinks once some of the grief goes away they’ll bounce back more and more. We’re both worried about Gabby. When I asked Michael and Cass about her usual behavior, they told me she was always happy and talkative. Now Jax and I are thinking maybe I should see about therapy for her or all of them.

  Luke is going to be work. I wrack my brain trying to get him to talk and trust me. How do you say, “Hey, I know I haven’t been around for three years, and I’ve been a selfish asshole, but I’m going to take care of you guys now?” He mostly avoids me and hangs out in his room.

  The day of the funeral comes all too soon. After getting myself ready, I go around and help the kids if they need it. I find Michael in the bathroom struggling to tie his tie. Walking in I ask, “Can I help you?”

  He looks up, with a red face. He wipes away tears, and I swear where there’s supposed to be a heart in my chest actually aches. I don’t think his tears are from embarrassment or frustration trying to deal with his tie. His heart is breaking because today he’s attending his parent’s funeral. However, he tells me, “I’m fine.”

  I smile. He’s definitely my brother. Hard-headed. “Humor me little brother.” Grabbing his tie, I patiently show him how to tie it perfectly. “It’s okay to cry, Michael. “

  He wipes another tear, “You and Luke don’t cry. Dad never cried.”

  I finish straightening the tie and smooth it down, “Everyone deals with sadness in different ways, and no way is necessarily wrong. Its okay to express your grief, however, makes you feel better. You don’t have to handle it like Luke or me for that matter.”

  My dad was a hardworking, tough as steel man, and crying was never acceptable to him. That was the reason I ended up getting into a lot of fights in junior high and high school because my sadness turned to anger. I’m afraid Luke is the same way. I don’t want Michael to be ashamed of feelings and am pretty sure that he’s going to turn out to be the best man out of all of us.

  He smiles slightly, “I just miss them.”

  I nod, “I know. I miss them too, but it will be okay. I’m not going anywhere, and if you need anything you can talk to me.” He gives me a big hug before going off to the bedroom he shares with Luke.

  I continue walking down the hall to check on the girls. After knocking once, I open it and find Cassie sitting on her bed. “Can I come in?” She is sitting on her bed in her new black dress holding a Teddy bear. I remember the bear well. She got it from Sylvia when Gabby was born. It’s something my step-mom started with me when Luke was born. Everyone got a new present whenever a new baby came. I believe when Michael was born I got a Kansas City Royals T-shirt since they were my favorite team at the time.

  I sit on the bed next to Cassie, but she doesn’t look up from the bear. “I’m going to miss them too, Cass.”

  A tear slides down her cheek, and she doesn’t bother to wipe it away like Michael had, “I just don’t get it. Dad was a careful driver, and they were just going to the store.”

  “I know, Cass. It isn’t fair.”

  She looks up at me like that was what she was thinking, “No, they’re supposed to be here. I’m going to be a freshman. They’re going to miss my first date, my proms, and graduation. And my wedding, Dylan. Who’s going to walk me down the aisle?”

  Wow, she’s really been thinking into the future. I haven’t even been able to think past the funeral. “I know. I’m sorry that I can’t bring them back and make it right. I know I can’t replace them, but I’m here Cass. I will always be here.”

  She looks at me questionably, “You promise?”

  I can understand why she’s questioning me. I haven’t been here for three years. Nothing from me. No contact of any kind. That doesn’t give her the warm and fuzzies at all. I’ve got to live up to my promises. I need her to trust me, and I know it’s going to take time. “Yes, I promise. I know I haven’t been around…”

  She cuts me off, “And you never told us why. I mean I know you and daddy had a fight, but you just disappeared.”

  Fuck. I hate how I let them down. The hurt is written all over her face, and I know I owe her an explanation, but I don’t want to go into all of the details, especially right before the funeral. “I’m sorry. I was selfish, and it was a mistake not talking to you guys because of my issues with dad. If I could go back and change it, I would.”

  She nods like she’s satisfied with that answer, although still cautious, “We missed you. Especially Luke.”

  I nod. Luke and I were ten years apart, but since we were the closest in age, we did spend a lot of time together. When dad was busy working sixty hours a week, I was the one teaching Luke how to play catch and ride a bike. Almost every Sunday was spent with us watching football on TV. “I missed all you guys. There weren’t many days that went by in the past three years that I didn’t think about you guys.” Which is true because the smallest things would remind me of one member of my family or another throughout the day, but my pride wouldn’t allow me to pick up the phone and call them.

  She smiles and stands, “Do we have to go to this?”

  I also stand, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I think you would probably regret it if you didn’t.”

  She heads toward the door, “Okay, let’s go then.”

  I smile and follow her down the hall to the living room where everyone is waiting to leave.

  Not many people are in attendance, which isn’t a huge shock. The funeral is still emotional. There are four very young lives that have been changed forever in less than a week. They’ve lost their parents and are now under the care of an older brother who has been absent for the past three years. Needless to say, we’re all scared.

  Each one of them handles the day differently. Luke stands stoic. Cassie can’t hold back her sobbing. Michael has a few tears roll down his face, and after our talk doesn’t try to hide it. Then there’s Gabby sitting in her seat staring straight ahead with no emotion. I know I need to try harder to get through to her. Not one word since the accident is starting to worry me more
and more. I decide if I can’t make headway by the end of the week then I’m going to find her a therapist.

  Since Jackson lost his grandfather just last year, I am surprised that he did attend. Jackson has seen a lot of death in his 26 years, and he hates having to deal with it even a little bit. He’s a tough son of a bitch on the outside, but on the inside, I know this is affecting him.

  After the funeral, we all go out for an early dinner. The mood remains somber and quiet, and I don’t try to push for much talking. Even when we make it home I let them go to their rooms to continue dealing with today. Jackson and I decide to go over emails, texts, and notes from the shop. We both look up when Luke walks in the room, “I’m going to go out for a while.”

  He’s sixteen and has his own car. It’s the same piece of shit ’87 Honda I drove in high school, and it’s been passed down to him. It’s already nine, and I know I need to ask questions about where he’s going and when he’ll be back, but it just seems strange to be questioning my brother like a parent. I know somewhere in my mind that it’s going to become my reality to do so, but tonight I go with, “Okay, be careful.”

  He doesn’t say anything, only nods, and leaves. I feel Jackson watching for me. When I look up, he raises an eyebrow, “Does he have a curfew?”

  I shrug. How the hell do I know? I can assume it was the same as mine when I was his age, but really I have no clue. At his age, I was expected to be back by ten thirty and was usually grounded because I never made it back by that time. “I don’t know, but he’s been through a lot lately, and I don’t feel like grilling him.”

  Jackson shakes his head but doesn’t say anything else.

  Luke doesn’t get back until one in the morning which pisses me off, but I let it go. I’m up when he walks in, but we don’t speak a word. He just silently goes to his room. Luke and I are too much alike, and I don’t need a huge fight before court comes up. Did I mention I’ve mastered procrastination? I just hope shit starts taking care of itself.