The Preston Playboys

chapter four - summer nights and mommy issues

chapter four – summer nights and mommy issues

"Wow, I haven't seen all that since middle school" Dad leaned against my door frame.

My entire room was filled with all my old photo albums, diaries and random crap I made. All filled with memories of the triplets and I. Right now I was looking at the photos we took the summer before high school when our families went camping together. That's actually one of the few memories I have where Marc wasn't being an ass or ignoring me.

"Yeah, I pulled them out from the back of my closet" I laughed.

Dad walked into my room and sat on the edge of my bed, making sure not to crumple any of the other photos.

"Does this have anything to do with the 'Preston Playboys' coming back into your life?" Dad asked and my face must have shown pure mortification.

"Dad. Do not call them that ever again" I fake shuttered at my father's choice of words.

"That's what the girls call them nowadays? No?"

"Yes, but it sounds weird when you say it" I laughed.

Dad's green eyes found the group photo we took that summer and I saw the sad look in his eyes when they saw himself with Mom.

Her death wrecked him. It wrecked all of us. Especially since it came with no warning. She woke up at 3 am, her water had broken. She was past her due date so there was no fear. We were all excited. The drive to the hospital was exciting. Wyatt and I argued over whether we would have a new sister or brother since Mom and Dad decided they wanted to keep it a surprise.

I remember the way she laughed when Wyatt announced that if it was a boy he wanted it to be named after him. A struggled laugh through her contractions. Her golden-brown eyes squinted and her brown hair falling into her face. The thin layer of sweat on her forehead and the biggest smile showing off her teeth.

My last memory of her alive was when they wheeled her into the delivery room. She kissed Wyatt and I on the forehead and told us that the next time we would see her, we would have a new brother or sister. Sometimes I can still feel her lips on my forehead.

Barely an hour later Dad was in the waiting room, holding us in a death grip. He was crying but we didn't realize that it wasn't tears of joy until the sobs started wracking his body.

"We realized we wanted another baby on that trip" Dad's thumb rubbed over the photo of him and Mom. "Being around such a big family made Mom want so many more babies"

The tears started pooling in my eyes and I could feel my lip quiver.

"I miss mommy"

Dad looked up, with his own tears and cupped my cheek.

"So do I, baby girl. I don't know why god took them from us but he must have had a good reason. One day we'll be with them again but not for a while. I promise the wait will be worth it" Dad smiled through his tears and I could tell her was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince me.

Dad struggled with thoughts of suicide for a while but he always said that Wyatt and I were the ones that made him hold on. He never outright spoke to us about it, but Grandma told us. Or more so, Wyatt. For a year after their death, Wyatt blamed him. I'm not sure why, but I think he was just confused and angry.

"I heard you and that boy have been getting sweet on each other" Dad turned his focus on the photo of Marc and I sitting on a peer. We were in our bathing suits, drying off from swimming in the lake. I don't remember what we were talking about but I remember it was the first normal conversation we had ever had with no arguing or teasing.