Page 14 of From the Start

They shut the door behind them, leaving me with the mess to clean up. At least I’m still Pearl’s favorite uncle.

Chapter 5

“I don’t want to see another box of Fruit Loops in my life ever again.” ~ Harper

Harper

“Where are my Fruit Loops?”

I jar awake at the shouted question.

“Harper!”

I blow out a breath and search for some patience before I scream back. Trust me. Screaming back at my dad doesn’t help.

I roll out a bed, grab a sweatshirt from the floor, and stumble my way to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Dad.”

He grunts in response. And everyone says I’m the grump. Ha! They obviously haven’t met my father.

“What’s the problem?” I ask.

“There aren’t any Fruit Loops.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t make it to the grocery store yesterday.” My jaw aches to remind me why.

“You should let me go to the grocery store by myself.”

Ugh. Not this again. Dad suffered a moderate stroke shortly after Mom died. He did rehab and has regained quite a bit of his mobility, but his right arm and leg never fully recovered. He gets around with a cane pretty well, but the grocery store is too far for him. And he refuses to use a motorized wheelchair.

“You can go to the grocery store by yourself,” I begin and he smiles, “if you use a motorized wheelchair.”

“I am not using a motorized wheelchair ever again.”

“You can’t walk to the grocery store from here. It’s too far.”

“Bullshit. I can do it.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Did you forget what happened last time?”

His cheeks darken. “You shouldn’t shame a man for having an accident.”

“I’m not trying to shame you. I’m reminding you of how the police called me because you were caught relieving yourself in the neighbor’s rose bushes.”

“It was fertilizer.”

“And then you sat down on the chair inside the other neighbor’s playhouse and couldn’t get back up.”

“Damn chair was tiny.”

“Because it was a child’s playhouse.”

“If your mother was here, she’d let me go to the grocery store.”

His shot hits me straight in the chest where he aimed. I struggle to breathe for a second. Mom was the sweetest, kindest person to ever walk this earth. She was also a pushover for my dad. Whatever he wanted, she gave him.

I’ve never seen love the way my parents loved each other. It was beautiful to behold. But then my mom got sick and died when I was a freshman in high school. Dad had a stroke a year later.