After we buried Mom, Dad played a few shows to get us some money. Destruction Band had become so famous.
My friend at school says that her parents had their first dance to Sophia, Destruction’s love song. About Mom. The chorus is my favorite part. No more asking, or wondering, no more lying awake. The whole world for your laughter, for the sound of your name.
My dad tells me to put on an old shirt. He doesn’t ask me to help paint, just tells me to. Laura gets down on her knees, a paintbrush in her hand. Dad bends down by Laura. He holds his breath, lets out a grunt like it hurts, and then he picks up a brush.
The screen door slams behind me. I sneak into my bedroom on my tiptoes. The kid hears everything and never sleeps. The door to the kid’s room, all decorated with finger paintings and macaroni art from day care, is right across from mine. Laura’s kid, that she had with my dad. Usurper.
In my room I peel off my long-sleeve shirt and pull on my old Destruction Band T-shirt. My finger gets stuck in a hole in the armpit. Dust and…