I arrived at work with only moment's to spare, the clock on the dash reading 3:59PM. Usually Matt got off around sunset, but today was the last day of his current project, so all the construction workers got off early. I could see Matt off in the distance, loading excess materials onto a trailer to haul off to the next job.

Once the trailer was full, he walked towards the makeshift dirt parking lot, waving to me from afar. He was hard to miss in his highlighter yellow safety vest and matching hard hat. He looked like something straight out of a cartoon. I'd seen him in his uniform many times, but something about him standing out in a sea of construction debris made me giggle to myself. 

As he neared the truck, I slid across the bench seat to the passenger side so he could drive us home. I didn't care for driving at the best of times and with the events of the last week, any excuse for Matt to drive for me was welcomed.

The elder Wooding brother swung the door wide, the elderly hinges on the door creaking in protest. Climbing in to sit beside me, Matt looked completely exhausted, tossing his safety hat and sunglasses onto the dash and groaning with relief as the cool air hit his sweat-soaked hair. He was completely coated in sweat, dirt and other debris, the only part of him not caked in dirt was a stark patch of clean skin where he usually wore his sunglasses.

"You'd think I'd sweat less in the winter." He grumbled, cranking the truck and listening to it roar to life. Throwing an arm over the back of the bench seat, He looked over his shoulder as we reversed. The acrid scent of sweat mixed with earthy undertones of dust rolled through the cab and I subtly cracked a window to let it out. Matt tended to sweat through his deodorant by the end of the day, making riding with him after work somewhat unpleasant. 

As we settled into the drive, Matt's brow was furrowed, worry swirling in his blue eyes. He let out a longsuffering sigh which caused me to glance at him with worry. "What's wrong, Matt?"

"Worried about money, as usual. How'd the interview at Galaxy Coffee go?"

I winced, remembering my earlier mishap with the truck horn. "Uh, it didn't go well. They're only hiring for mornings."

Matt groaned. "Fuck. I don't know what to do anymore, Luna. We were just starting to be able to keep our heads above water, start living beyond paycheck to paycheck. Now we're worse off then when we started."

I brushed off the pang of guilt. Rationally, I knew it wasn't really my fault Kris got hurt, but it didn't convince my irrational, self loathing thoughts. I tried to focus on my words, carefully mulling over what I wanted to say before making my next suggestion.

"Uh, Matt.. It might be time to let Dylan find a job." I saw his grip on the wheel tighten as we went over a hill, his jaw clenching in irritation. His eyes didn't move from the road, but I knew if he wasn't driving, I would currently be on the receiving end of a death glare.

I expected him to erupt on me, but instead his voice was barely over a whisper. "I know.. I just hate it. I worked so hard for so long to give my little siblings a better life then I had. I hated it when Kris dropped out, but I couldn't argue with her anymore. I hoped Dylan would be the one of us to finally make something out of himself, not get dragged down into this cycle of scraping by." 

His eyes never left the road, but I could see they were glassy and he was blinking away tears, his lips set in a hard line.

"He's 16, he should be breaking hearts and studying for the SAT, sneaking out and getting into trouble. He shouldn't be having to grow up like I did... " He trailed off as we came to a stop at a 4 way intersection. He stared up at the blinking yellow light, waiting for another car to turn. I patted his shoulder awkwardly.

"Matt, he's not growing up like you did." I looked at my hands for a moment, fidgeting with my nails. "You grew up in a very harmful environment and worked your ass off to get your siblings out of there. Dylan has grown into a great guy, he doesn't have to worry about your mom screaming at him and treating him like shit. Will he have to take on more responsibility because Kris got hurt, yes, but he has wanted to start working for a while now. Maybe this is what he needs."

Matt fell silent, the only thing penetrating the silence was the steady rumble of the truck as we turned onto our road. As the truck came to a stop in our yard, we could see the soft glow of the tv behind the living room curtains, signaling Dylan was home from school. 

I glanced at Matt. "You should go talk to him. I'll stay out here for a little bit so y'all can have some privacy."

To my surprise, Matt shook his head. "No, you're part of this family too, you should help me. I get all fucked up when I try to talk feeling anyways."

I swallowed the lump of emotion in my throat. I continuously felt like an outsider within our little band of misfit. The term family had always been a bit of a loaded gun for me, as the family I'd been born into wanted nothing to do with me anymore. Hearing Matt consider me one of his siblings, while not explicitly stating it, filled me with a joy. 

The whirlwind of feeling threatened to spill from my eyes, so as we exited the truck, I threw my arms around Matt and hugged him tightly. He tensed initially, but returned my hug after a few moments of trepidation. 

We parted and made our way through the chain link, up onto the porch and into the house. A strange smell permeated the air and looking to the kitchen I could see a rather nervous Dylan anxiously stirring a pot. Upon closer inspection, the pot contained slightly overcooked Beef Assistant. It was meant to be some kind of stroganoff flavor, but it currently resembled sickly white sludge. 

It was decidedly not gourmet dining, but Dylan going out of his comfort zone to make dinner for us warmed my heart and made me smile. "Hey, Dylan, me and Matt wanna talk with you, why don't we come sit in the living room and let this cool down before we eat?"

Dylan, understandably, was apprehensive. "Is Kris okay?"

Matt chuckled, patting his shoulder. "Kris is fine, she get out tomorrow and is cleared to come home. She'll need some physical therapy at the hospital twice a week, but she'll be ok. We wanted to talk to you about the whole... job thing."

Matt's explanation only made the gangly teen more wary, Dylan shifted, crossing his arms in a defensive move. "I told you, I want to go get a job. With Kris not working, we need the money!"

Matt put his hands up in the universal sign of submission, trying to tame the stress radiating from his younger brother. "I hear you, and I'm willing to let you try, for now, with some ground rules."

You could have knocked Dylan over with a feather, disbelief dripping from his features. His expression changed from defensive to shocked and then landed on skeptical. "Okay... what's your stipulations?"

Matt crossed his arms, uncomfortable. He tried to sound stern, but what came out sounded more like a question. "Uh... well, I want you to prioritize your studies over working. No staying out late on school nights and no more then 20 hours a week!"

Dylan looked floored. "Okay. I think I can live with that. Anything else?"

Matt nodded. "You need to save a little out of each check for getting your driver's license.  Once Kris is back to work, we'll see about getting a car for you and Luna to share. After we get Kris back on the road, of course. I don't know about you, but I'm sick of playing Musical Drivers getting everyone to work."

It was my turn to look shocked. I wasn't expecting Matt to go that far, but I was thankful for his kindness. I had to swallow that lump of emotion again, the damn thing threatened to make my eyes water. 

Dylan snatched Matt up into a bear hug, The tears brimming in my eyes was my cue to leave.

 I turned and walked to my bedroom, flopping on the bed. I would have to leave my sanctuary to eat soon, but in the quiet moments to myself, I dared to reflect on the day's happenings.