I give Ada a nod since she still thinks I have cooties or something, then I eye Jay. Just like Jacob, I don’t trust him. He seems like he’s a good match for Ada, from what I’ve seen, but he’s one of them, forever a thorn in my side. Plus, there’s the fact that he’s like hundreds of years old or something, and Ada is technically still a teenager, even if she’s now quite mature for her age.
“You going to just stand there having a pissing contest with your eyes?” Ada asks me. “Come the fuck inside.”
I shake my head, realizing that I’ve been staring down Jay this whole time. Also just realized that he’s wearing a leather jacket and white tee, like he’s trying out to be a Ginger James Dean. Beats Ginger Elvis, I guess.
At that thought, a wash of sadness comes through me, but I immediately push it away. I’m good at that. It’s the only way to get through.
Jay just squints at me, then lifts his giant jaw in subtle defiance and turns, heading back into the house.
Behave, Perry says, injecting her thought into my brain. She had promised not to do it too often, and she usually only does it when I’m being a dick.
I will, I tell her in my head, though I can’t tell from her expression whether she’s heard me or not. Probably, because she doesn’t believe me either way.
We go inside. It smells comforting, like Ada’s lit a bunch of scented candles called Pumpkin Spice Princess or something.
My father-in-law is standing in the kitchen with a glass of red wine filled up to the rim, the bottle next to him.
“Ah, here’s the lucky couple,” he says to us, and for once I don’t feel his usual begrudging tolerance toward me.
“Daniel,” I say to him as Perry goes over and hugs him. We aren’t quite on the “dad” level yet, and our affection usually consists of a nod, sometimes even a smile. I have to admit, the man still terrifies me. He looks harmless, balding, with a pasta gut, glasses, on the short side. But I know from personal experience he has a mean right hook. Sometimes I get a phantom pain in my nose when he’s around.
“Wine?” he asks us.
“Yes, always,” I tell him as he grabs two glasses from the cupboard.
“Just thought I’d make sure,” he says, peering at me as he uncorks the bottle of Pinot Noir. “I know it’s not always recommended to drink when you’re on medication.”
I give him a stiff smile. Always a cheap shot somewhere.
“It’s not a problem,” I tell him, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.
He gives me a look I can’t read and hands me my glass. “That’s good to hear. I know it took you a lot of trial and error to find the right ones.”
“Dad,” Perry admonishes. “Why are we discussing this?”
“We’re family, aren’t we?” he says.
Perry’s eyes dart over to Jay who is standing off to the side with Ada.
That red-headed cockwaffle is definitely not a part of the family.
“It’s fine, Perry,” I tell her. “No secrets here.”
Unfortunately.
I’ve been on meds for about two years now. It’s been a hellish process, to put it mildly, to get it just right. I know I’m no stranger to medication, and I had gone off it for a while there, which in turn opened my mind up to the supernatural again and so many other fucking things.
But the truth is, I do better on them. I’ve been seeing a therapist—a good one—who recently diagnosed me with ADHD. None of us were surprised in the least. I’ve always been ADHD personified and the writing was on the wall for years. It’s just that when you’ve come from a fucked-up family and have gone through some pretty crazy things in your life, it’s easy to blame it on other things.
So, I’m on medication for that, which has helped immensely. So much so that I was able to be weaned off my anti-depressants (which were a total boner killer, so good riddance to that period of my life). I’m still impatient, impulsive, reckless, brash, and distracted, but at least it keeps me grounded, and in turn it’s helped me become a much better husband. I hope so, anyway.
I’m also on anti-anxiety medication. The question always was whether being on meds again would affect the way I see the supernatural.
At this point, I have no idea. I haven’t really seen anything since I went to Hell and back and we stopped EIT. Sure, there’s been a few times where I’ve felt things that weren’t technically there, but it’s not like it used to be.
Which is yet another reason why I want to take Harry Balls up on his offer. I want to see what happens when we seek them out. I want to see if it still remains, this ability I have, or if it’s been buried again.
I know Perry says she’s happier pretending they don’t exist.
I’m just not sure if it’s the same for me.
Dealing with the dead had a way of making me feel the most alive.
“Well,” Daniel says, clearing his throat and raising his wine glass. “I’m glad to see you’re doing better, Dex. And even though I’m sure this is the last place you want to be for your anniversary, I have to admit I’m really grateful you’re spending it with me.”
Damn. Guess I do feel for the old man. I mean, I have no choice, there’s nothing but emotional chaos inside him, and it’s nearly impossible to keep it at a distance.
I raise my glass anyway, along with Perry, and cheers him.
“Ahem, and where’s my wine?” Ada says from behind us.
“You’re not twenty-one,” he reminds her sternly.
“Jay is,” Ada says.
I snort. Daniel gives me a funny look. I’m not about to tell him how ageless Jay really is.
“Fine,” he concedes. “Would you like a glass of wine, Jay?”
I can tell
