So, in honor of hitting 800 Likes yesterday I decided to do an extra long teaser today. This one will introduce a little of the other half of the book, what Chloe is dealing with when she goes home every night. Marlee, of course, did an amazing job modeling so I had to include a little picture of that as well. Don’t forget to pre-order your signed paperback today! I am putting the order in Wednesday so hurry! Email me at email@example.com with how many copies you want, an address, and who you want to sign it. The models, Ross and Marlee, and my photographer, Emily are all available.
“Chloe Ann Delaney,” bellowed Chuck Delaney’s stern voice.
“Dad?” She had pulled herself up and was sitting in the bed with her hand covering her eyes to block the stream of light he was letting in from the hall.
He stumbled a little to the left until his shoulder hit the doorframe and he was able to steady himself again. “Where did you put it?”
“What are you talking about, Dad? Where did I put what?” She had thrown the covers off herself and was making her way to the door where he stood or, rather, slouched.
“My scotch,” he slurred. “I know I had half a bottle left last night, and I know you threw it away. Now I can’t go get anymore because the liquor stores are either closing or too far away for me to drive.”
Chloe hadn’t thrown away any scotch that morning. As a matter of fact, she had thrown away an empty bottle he had forgotten finishing the night before. Telling him that was only asking for trouble, so she used her standby. “Oh, Daddy, I didn’t throw it away,” she soothed. “Look. I’ll go get it for you. Why don’t you go on into your room and lie down. I’ll be in with your drink in a minute.”
He grunted a response and headed down the hall toward his room. If she could just get him through the door and to his bed, he usually fell asleep within minutes. He wouldn’t even remember this tomorrow. Sure enough, after waiting the allotted ten minutes, she returned to his room with a glass of water and some Tylenol to find him asleep diagonally on his bed. She put the best hangover cure she could get where she was sure he would see it the next morning and shut off the lamp, leaving for her own room.
“I just wish she could hold my hand one more time, you know?” he whispered. She could barely make out the words but knew them all too well as they were her own thoughts on a daily basis.
“Yeah, I know,” she whispered from the doorway.
“Why her, Chloe? Why does she have to be gone so soon? Every day I have to talk about murderers who get parole and convicts who escape. Why does she have to be gone and they get to be here?”
Chloe wanted to speak, to tell him what she thought about everything, to explain that it was her mother who had it better than any of them. She was in a place where she would only know happiness while they were still here feeling pain and loss. Her mother was the lucky one, but her father was too far gone to understand. She just backed out of the room and shut the door behind herself, shutting out the first chance for true communication she had had with her father in over a year.
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