@addiesbirch Birch Family Home
Benji could count on one hand the amount of times he’d set foot in Katie’s childhood home. It wasn’t like he had much cause, Sylvia Birch wanted nothing to do with their kid, and it wasn’t like he was looking for wholesome family fun time with Satan and Beelzebub (his favored nicknames for Sylvia and Addie). But it wasn’t every day that Sylvia Birch called (no, seriously, she’d never once called him), so Benji took the call. Something about a clogged garbage disposal, and if Benji ever considered himself less than a waste of oxygen, etc., etc.
It felt like Addie wrote the script.
Benji, surprisingly, was pretty handy. After his dad had left, the Hastings hadn’t had the luxury of hiring someone every time something broke, so they got smart. And between him and his mother, they could fix (or at least tape over), pretty much anything. He knew Sylvia would leave him to crawl under the kitchen sink and right what was wrong with his box of tools, but the same hope couldn’t be relied upon where Addie was concerned. On his back with half of his torso beneath the sink and adjoining cabinet, Benji leaned to his side so he could glance up at the face that belonged to the feet that hovered near.
“You’re like a specter, y’know? Fuckin’ silent steps.”
