I watch as a drop of water hits the page and spreads out quickly distorting the ink. I reach up and touch a hand to my cheek and I’m surprised when I pull back and see tears. My whole life I thought I was hated, I thought I was cursed with parents that wanted very little to do with me.
I am sorry I did not tell you sooner, Mr. Greene threatened to cut off my pay and my family in Ukraine they need that money to survive. When he died I had a plan to tell you but you were so sad and I did not know how to do it.
You have a bad childhood, I know this. So many people treat you badly, I tried my best to protect you but even I could not do it properly. Please forgive me, my son.
I love you,
Sonja Koltyk
p.s. I am from a small village in Ukraine called Iza and I hope one day I can bring you there to meet your baba (that mean Grandmother)
I need to find Sonja.
I now know she would not leave to go back to her home because she needs this job for her family-my family. I need to find her and make sure she knows I appreciate every good moment she gave me as a child. If it wasn’t for her, I don’t think I would’ve continued to live past my fourteenth year.
I tuck the letter into my back pocket and cross the hall into my parents room. E and Vin are no longer in here but everything looks like it’s back in order. The bed has been stripped of vomit and whatever else and the vomit on the carpet looks slightly better but I will need to bring in a professional cleaning company for sure. I walk into the bathroom and my gaze immediately locks on the back of the door. It’s bare obviously but E went a step further and even removed the robe hook as well.
I exit the bedroom and head downstairs then out into the backyard. Everyone is walking around picking up lawn chairs and cushions that were either thrown about or the wind tossed them around.
“Bro,” Vin calls out as he holds up our patio umbrella, “where’s the base for this?”
“Base?” I raise an eyebrow, “you mean the like eighty pound weight that’s filled with sand?”
“I guess so.” He shrugs.
“Should be out here.” I do a full circle, looking at the ground as I turn. “Did it break off?”
“No, the bottom is fine.” He calls out.
I walk over to the shed where we keep our pool things and the patio furniture. The base is large and I would be able to see it right away. But the thing isn’t in here either.
“I don’t know,” I call out. “Bring the umbrella in here so it doesn’t get damaged until I find it.”
We load up all the patio furniture into the shed and I go to stand in front of the nasty dark green pool.
“How deep is your pool?” Vin asks.
“Ten feet.”
“Nice, like mine.”
“Are we gonna clean it out?” Adri asks, her nose scrunched in disgust.
“Nah,” I shake my head. “I will come over another day and drain it. It needs to be cleaned before it’s refilled. I’ll get professionals to deal with that.”
Everyone follows me out of the house and I lock it up. We all get back to our cars and Ember hops into mine with me. I pull out the driveway, making sure to close the gate behind me.
“So, what now?” I look to E.
“Now,” she looks at me and grins, “we get to work.”
18
I drove our Aunt and Uncle’s Mercedes to pick up Adri when we all decided to help Travis at his house. Now, as I’m driving her home, all I can think about is her mouth on Travis and him grinding into her. It’s on repeat and the tent I’m making in my pants is borderline embarrassing. Just those few minutes of the three of us together, gave me a teasing taste of what my life could be like constantly. I’ve never wanted something more.
“Ember’s classes are starting this coming Sunday, are you going to join?” She asks, breaking through my continuous fantasy.
“Yeah, I already signed up.” I smile at her.
“I also heard her say she was fighting in New York this weekend. Does she do classes there too?”
Oh fuck, Ember wasn’t careful with what she was saying. Maybe talking to Vin or Travis while Adri was walking by. How the fuck do I explain this one?
“Uh, yeah. Ember fights sometimes in New York.”
“Like legit fights or classes?”
I pull into her driveway and turn to look at her, “I like your house,” I try to distract her from her question. “I meant to tell you that the other day.”
“Oh,” she looks up at it with a shrug. “My mother came from old money. My grandfather was a founder here in Whitsborough along with Travis’ grandfather and yours too. They inherited his money but hate to stay here, so they travel the world and check in whenever.”
“I’m sorry.” I mutter because that’s no life for a kid, practically living alone.
“I’m used to it.” She shrugs, but I can see it hurts her, no matter how hard she’s trying to cover it. “They started leaving for a week at a time when I turned thirteen. I had a cook and a driver and they figured
