Dominic returned to the table and sat. David and Jared, uneasy, shifted in their seats in silence.
“Well, she’ll certainly sleep through the night,” Dominic said.
“Yeah, what a sight she was. Glad she wasn’t like that four days ago. I wouldn’t have known what to do,” David said. A nervous laugh escaped him.
“And just what have you done for her, boy?” he asked David. “What have you done at all in your life?”
“What do you mean?" asked David. “I helped her when you died.”
“I mean why did she have to resort to your sarcastic she-devil of a sister for rehab money?" Dominic’s fury spun like the beginning winds of a tornado. “And while we’re at it, how dare you stop playing music? We moved here from Tulsa for you, and you go and break my heart giving up on those songs. They were the most beautiful things I ever heard. I thought about them as I was dying.”
“Dad…” David trailed off.
“Speak up, you little mouse! Nothing comes of silence.”
“I knew about mom, but I couldn’t pay for her to go to rehab.”
“It’s because you work at some streaming service shuffling around other people’s songs instead of your own. You’re better than that. You should be writing your own music. I always thought you were a genius, but I guess I was wrong. You’re just an idiot,” said Dominic, sloshing his wine glass aloft.
“Dad, stop drinking. You’re not supposed to have alcohol until the doctors clear you,” said Jared.
He growled, “And I’m not supposed to do drugs either, am I, Jared? But they got me on all sorts of drugs at the hospital, and they’re working. So those doctors are hypocrites, and you are as well. If you try to take this wine away from me, I’ll eat you alive.” He gulped it down as his sons stared. “I’m not a drug addict like your tubby mommy seems to be, but you boys already knew that, thanks to your substance abuse counselor of a sister. How sweet she is, just a peach. What in the sanctimonious hell does she think she’s doing, sending my wife to rehab?”