Desolate(3)

“Cereus, show Stacy to your room and come back down so we can have a little talk,” I say.

“She’s been my best friend for four years, Dad. She knows where my room is.”

Stacy smirks in my direction, lifting her hand and waggling her fingers in a mock goodbye as she leaves the kitchen. I don’t like her or the influence she has on my baby girl. She’s a little bitch and her father is a worthless piece of shit who owns a liquor store and has been caught numerous times selling alcohol to underage girls. Mel has a soft spot for her though; due to the fact they both lost their mothers.

“Sit.” I gesture to a chair at the table, and in response I receive a scrunched up nose and a headshake from my daughter.

“It wasn’t a request, Cereus.” I raise my voice a little to show her I’m not playing around or in the mood for her disobedience.

“Gross.” She huffs and throws herself into the seat.

“Don’t be immature. We both know you’re not. I need to lay down some ground rules for you.”

I sit in the seat opposite and place my hands on the table in front of me, waiting for her eyes to clash with mine.

“Go on then,” she says with a head jerk.

“When you leave this house in the future, you will tell me or your mother what time you’ll be home and tell us where you’re going. Do you understand?”

Her mouth pops open and her arms fold across her chest. “I haven’t done anything wrong! Why am I being punished for you two going at it like a pair of college kids?”

Melody walks to the coffee pot to pour herself a mug. I slam my palm down on the table then point my finger at Cereus.

“That, right there, is why! You have too much attitude, and I don’t want you staying at Stacy’s house. I’ve made this rule before, Cereus, and it’s clearly been broken.”

I glare, warning her against questioning me. I don’t usually shout at her, she’s my baby girl, but I have rules and they’re there for a reason; to protect her. I expect the rules to be followed. I’ve already told both Melody and Cereus this before, and both apparently took no notice because Mel was still allowing her to stay there. It’s part of my job to know social and criminal behavior, and to be aware of others’ actions and reactions, understanding why they do the crimes they do. All my little red flags are flying when it comes to Stacy’s father. He likes his women young and barely legal, which is why he serves alcohol to underage girls. My old killer instincts are like an itch when faced with people like him. The burning need to embrace old solutions and kill that disgusting pervert is always inside me, scratching at the surface, but the risk of losing myself or being caught and losing everything outweighs them. Unless he ever crosses the line if he does, I don’t know if I could control the fire inside me, or the consequences of letting them burn freely.

“Why are you picking on me? Your getting as bad as Mom.” Cereus huffs.

Melody slams her cup into the sink and stalks over to the table. “Picking on you, as bad as Mom? I didn’t realize I was so bad, Cereus. Please tell me what I’ve done that is so awful to warrant your attitude towards me?”

“Whatever. Can I go now?”

God, who is this person wearing my baby girl’s face?

“No. You’re grounded,” I tell her, and both sets of green eyes look at me with surprise.

“You can’t ground me,” Cereus says, but it’s stated like a question. She looks over to Mel for confirmation. “Mom’s never grounded me,” she continues more firmly, standing up.

I look at my wife who shrugs her shoulders and bites her lip with guilt at being so lenient.

“Well, maybe that’s why you treat her so poorly, Cereus. The way you talk to her is unacceptable and will stop or I will be handing out more punishments, do you understand me?”

“But, Dad-”

She looks so defeated that I want to take it back and hug her, but I need to set some rules for this behavior or things will escalate between her and her mother and I can’t take it much longer.

“No buts. Go to your room and tell Stacy she needs to go home.”

The chair shrieks over the tiled floor when she pushes it to storm past us, squinting at Melody as she breathes, “Thanks a lot” at her.

I raise my hands with a defeated sigh. I can’t win.



A hot shower can cure most things, and right now it’s soothing away the stress from the confrontation with Cereus and Melody. Being a parent is the hardest job in the world. I had some practice with my kid brother, Ryan, but the way things turned out with him still plagues me.

I have so many regrets about him, but regrets are just the pain of the past haunting you. It’s seeing it replaying in your mind and never being able to change the outcome.