Our Kind of Love

by Shane Morgan

  “Yeah,” she smiles back. “Listen, I’ve been meaning to tell you something. I didn’t before because you were still with Nate, but now that you guys have broken up…”

  “Just say it,” I urge her, more than curious now.

  “Well,” She glances at the wooden railing, inhales and exhales, and then turns back to me. “The reason why I don’t like Nate is because, he and my roommate hooked up. She went to a party a few days after you guys graduated and he happened to be there. She said he kept flirting with her and she’d had too much to drink. One thing led to another and they…ended up sleeping together.”

  I can’t help but laugh short. “You should have told me sooner,” I say, not in a way that I’m upset with her, because I’m not.

  “Sorry, you seemed like you wanted things to work with him so I thought I’d keep out of it.”

  I shrug. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter anymore. I would have broken up with him, anyways.”

  A smile peeks at the corner of her mouth before she asks, “Can I tell you something else?”

  Dropping my hands to my hips, I giggle at her. “You’re all for confessing today, huh? Go ahead.”

  Aislin glances across at the bar and eyes John. Looking back at me, she combs her fingers through her pixie cut and says in a girlish way, “I’m scared I’ll lose him to Claudia.”

  I narrow my eyes, cut over to John, and then carry my gaze back to Aislin. “Oh my, how did I not see it before?” The soft glances, the way she’d defend him to Mom when he was late for work, the way she’d smile for no reason when she walks by him at the bar, and the way she watched him with Claudia at the barbecue like a jealous girlfriend.

  Aislin likes John.

  “Aislin, you have to tell him,” I urge her.

  She fidgets and bites on her bottom lip, rocking back and forth on her heels.

  “I can’t,” she says. “I’m scared. What if he doesn’t like me in that way? What if I ruin our friendship by confessing? And Claudia’s really hot, I’m sure he’ll go for her—”

  “Okay, first of all, Claudia’s not interested in John. She’s already preoccupied with trying to win back a previous boyfriend. Secondly, how will you know that he doesn’t feel the same, if you don’t make a move?”

  She twists her mouth to the side and glances over at him again. As if he senses her watching, John peers up from the drinks menu in time to catch her gaze. Aislin glides back to me fast. I want to laugh. She’s so cute, so vulnerable, so not the tough girl she’s used to portraying.

  “I can’t,” she muttered, “I’m not that brave.”

  “Neither am I,” I tell her.

  Aislin lifts a brow as if I’m full of shit. “Yeah right, you dropped Nate for Micah.”

  Something plunges in my stomach. I want Micah here with me so bad. I want him to hurry and make up his mind, take care of all this and return to me.

  “Yeah, well…” I mutter under my breath. “I didn’t want to stay unhappy with Nate. I made a choice, and I don’t think I’ve made the wrong one either.”

  “Good for you,” she says with a smile. “I hope I’ll find my courage, too.”

  “You will.”

  I glimpse Dean at the corner of my eye. He starts out to the deck. As he draws closer, he says, “Ladies, how bout we save the girl talk for later and actually get some work done?”

  Aislin looks over at him with a scowl. The tough side I’m familiar with resurfaces as she parts her lips to say something.

  “Listen, you—”

  “Sorry,” I cut her off. “We’ll get back to work.” I know her remark would have been snarky so I’m probably saving her from being fired.

  She flashes him a fake smile before turning to go back to wiping off tables. I do the same.

  Later that night, Claudia comes over to my house. We sprawl out on my bed as she rambles on about our trip to Miami; where we’ll be staying, and when we can go shopping for bathing suits.

  “Now that you’re over your fear, I think it’s time we get you some skimpies.” That’s her word for sexy bikinis.

  “I don’t feel like wearing a bikini. I don’t want to send the wrong message to guys down in Miami,” I tell her.

  She knocks my arm lightly. “It’s not even about that. It’s about celebrating your liberation and expressing your sexuality. You have a great bod. Flaunt it, even if you’re not single.”

  “Humph….” I mumble.

  “What does that mean? Humph?”

  I pick up the extra pillow and huddle it to my stomach, muttering, “I spoke to Micah today. I think you were right about him not coming back.”

  She pushes up on her elbow and rests her head in the palm of her hand. “I told you to forget about what I said—”

  “He’s already seen Lewis, the thing is his father’s back and he might reunite with his mother for the first time.”

  “Oh, that’s…interesting. And what did you say after hearing this?” she asks.

  “I told him to take some time to think about it.”

  “True…he should. So what’s he gonna do?”

  I turn my head and look up at her. “He doesn’t think he should leave yet. Guess he’s gonna meet her after all.”

  Claudia sinks down on her side. “Oh…I see why that worries you.”

  “I feel selfish, because I’m hoping he’ll stay mad at them and leave, but at the same time…”

  “You want him to be happy because you’ve noticed something’s been missing in his life.”

  I nod. “There’s definitely a missing piece in his heart.”

  After a brief pause, she squeezes my hand and says, “Let him do this and then he’ll come back to you. I’m sure he’ll even make it back in time for your birthday.”

  I sigh and mutter under my breath, “Hope so. If he doesn’t, then I don’t think he’s coming back. Ever.”

  Thirty-Five

  Micah

  I’VE KEPT my distance from Dad for the past few hours so I can think long and hard about what he said about my mother. I feel like I should just leave today, but part of me wants answers to questions I’ve secretly asked all these years.

  At the crack of dawn, I hear him banging on my door. “Mitchel, we need to talk, son. I won’t let you take off today without settling things.”

  What the hell! He won’t let me take off?

  Throwing the sheets off me, I spring out of bed, haul on a tee over my sweatpants, then fling the door open. “Where is she? Where has she been all my life? Why now?”

  He backs up a tad with his hands raised. “She’s going to answer all your questions when you see her.”

  “So she’s been in Haxtun all this time and hasn’t tried to see me once?”

  “Mitch, please.” Dad slants and gestures toward the living room. “You’ve been cooped up in this room all of yesterday, at least eat something then we can talk about her.”

  I pause for a fraction of a second then start out of my room, following Dad down the hallway and over to the little dining table.

  “I remembered you didn’t really care for eggs, so I made you bacon and toast. Is that okay?” he asks over his shoulder, lifting a frying pan off the stove.

  I nod and say dryly, “Yeah, that’s fine.” At least he remembers something about me.

  He scoops bacon onto a plate with toast and brings it over to the table, setting it down before me.

  After fixing a plate for himself, he comes and sits down across from me. “There’s coffee in the pot, milk in the fridge. Whichever you want, just help yourself.”

  I can’t even eat, I’m so curious about her. I’ve always been.

  Dad bites into his toast and peers up at me. “Eat something,” he urges.

  “Did you know where she was all this time?” I ask. “Did Grams?”

  He places the rest of his toast back on the plate and swallows what’s inside his mouth before answering, “I didn’t. I can’t speak for your grams though. She kept things from me.�
��

  “Oh gee, I wonder why,” I snort, picking up bacon.

  Dad wrinkles his forehead and glances over at the kitchen counter, falling into deep thought. A few seconds later he mutters, “I really let her down, huh?”

  Turning his head back to me, he resumes eating his breakfast, saying before he shoves the rest of his toast inside his mouth, “You should bring flowers to her grave since you’re here.”

  I stop eating, get up and walk over to the coffee pot. I should do that. I felt so bad about not being at home when she was sick that I didn’t have the courage to walk over to her gravesite when I was released. Dad’s right about one thing, I need to bring her flowers and get that guilt off my chest.

  “Are you still leaving today?” he asks me as I stride back to the table from pouring myself some coffee.

  “I don’t know,” I tell him, sitting down.

  “So, you’ll meet your mother then? I mean, you say you want answers, and only she can give you them.”

  I drink a little then put the mug down next to my plate. “Where does she live?”

  He dips his head, appearing regretful. “She…um…only five minutes from here.”

  “What?” I scoff in my amazement. “Has she always been that close? Did you know?”

  His thick brows shoot up. “Mitch, of course not. I wouldn’t keep that from you.”

  “Right, cause if you knew then, you would have just dropped me back at her doorstep and get one little trouble off your hands, huh?”

  Dad scrunches up his face and falls back on the chair, seeming exhausted. “That’s not true.”

  “Seemed that way when I was a kid,” I retort, sipping more coffee.

  “I was happy to have a son, and I wanted to be a good father to you—”

  “But you just couldn’t,” I cut him off. “You had to choose between me and the bottle. I wasn’t worth it.”

  He releases a razor-sharp breath and leans forward, resting his elbows at both sides of his plate. “I had a disease, Mitch. I needed help. Since I’ve gotten it I’ve been a better person. All I’m asking for is a chance to prove it.”

  “Just give me her address so I can go see her. Then I’ll be out of your hair and hers.” I finish the rest of my toast and bring the plate over to the sink.

  When I wash up and start to head down the hall towards the bathroom, Dad calls out from the table. “I hope you’ll consider staying. This is your home, Mitch. You belong here.”

  “Maybe if Grams was still here,” I reply with my back turned.

  Dad pulls up at a light blue painted house with white picket fence and clean-cut grass.

  “This is it,” he tells me. His voice makes me shudder, unleashing a bunch of nerves in my stomach. I can’t believe I’m actually going to meet my mother, after so many years, I’m going to see the face of the woman who didn’t want me.

  What do I say to her? Do I even want to give her the chance of getting to know me now? What’s the point? She’s lost nineteen years.

  Without looking at Dad, I open the car door and step out, taking a breath before walking up to the gate.

  “I’ll be here waiting,” he calls out, as if he’s assuring me of his support. I never had it then, and I certainly don’t need it now.

  Glancing back sideways, I snort and give him the ‘really’ stare, before turning to continue up the entrance.

  When I reach the red painted front door, I lift my hand, lingering for a second before I finally knock three times. I step back, stick my hands inside my pocket and wait.

  Shortly after, the door clicks open and a girl answers. She stares at me with curiosity in her sea blue eyes. They’re the same shade as mine, like my mother’s.

  “Can I help you?” she says, tilting her head to the side.

  “I…ahem,” I stop to clear my throat and say the name I haven’t spoken since I was ten, since the day Dad told me in one of his drunken episodes that she didn’t want me. “I’m looking for Karen.”

  She twists and calls over her shoulder, “Mom! Someone’s here to see you.”

  “Who is it?” I hear the woman answer, her footsteps approach from around the corner.

  My whole body tenses. My heart starts to race. I consider bolting to the car and pretend like I never came here, but when she ambles up to the door and looks me dead in the eye, I’m crippled in spot.

  “My God…” she covers her mouth with both hands and stares at me wide-eyed.

  “Mom, you okay?” asks her daughter, my sister. “Who’s this?” She glances between me and my mother.

  “Please, come inside,” Mom says, opening the door wider. My sister steps aside so that I can enter, confusion imprinted on her porcelain face.

  I walk into the entryway and peer around. So my mother’s been living nicely, it seems. She has a lovely home. A family. So why didn’t she want me?

  “Would you like some coffee?” she offers.

  I shake my head and say flatly, “No thanks.”

  My sister is still looking from our mother to me, trying to decipher what’s going on. She crosses her arms at her waist and eyes me down intently.

  Touching her daughter’s arm, Mom says calmly, “Why don’t we all sit down first?” She looks at me as she adds, “Then we can talk.”

  Obediently, I follow them into the living room and sit down on the couch, squeezing my knuckles. I’m boiling over with questions yet I decide to be considerate of my sister who clearly doesn’t know she has a brother.

  Mom sits down in the armchair and my sister settles on an ottoman beside her. She creases her forehead and brushes back her long blonde hair behind her ears, crossing one leg over the other.

  “Okay, what’s going on?” she asks, her soft voice laced with concern.

  “Cassie, this is Mitchel,” Mom introduces. “He’s my son…your brother.”

  My sister raises her thin brows and angles her head in wonder. “Brother? How can that be?”

  Glancing at Cassie, Mom explains, “I had Mitchel before meeting your father.” She looks back at me as she continues, “I wasn’t in a position where I could take care of you, that’s why I gave you to your father and grandmother.”

  “But why didn’t you ever come see me? Why did you wait all these years to reach out?” I ask sharply.

  She shakes her head, remorseful. “You looked so happy with your grams. She loved you and took much better care of you than I could…I just…I didn’t want to interrupt your lives and take you away from her.”

  I run my hand through my hair, displeased with her answer. “So, you pretended I was never born then went and marry, not to mention had a daughter, yet you couldn’t even bring yourself to see me once? You didn’t have to come get me. I was fine with my grandmother. But at least just to see me, so I’d know what you look like or to tell me that it’s not because you didn’t want me.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mitchel. Truth is, I was afraid, and I felt like I didn’t deserve to see you,” she says, tears stinging her eyes. She reaches a hand out and strokes Cassie’s cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner,” she mutters to her.

  Cassie pulls away from her touch, glances at me, and then stands. “I can’t…I have volleyball practice.”

  She turns and starts out of the living room. Mom slants on the chair and calls out to her. “Cassie, please stay. We should talk about this.”

  My sister’s out the door regardless of Mom’s pleas. She shuts it with a thud and I hear her frustrated footsteps bustle down the front steps.

  Straightening back in the armchair, Mom fixes her gaze on me. She glides over my face, studying my features. “You hardly look like me,” she utters. “You have my eyes, but everything else is your father.”

  I turn away from her so I can find the strength to ask, “Why were you looking for me now? Why after so many years?”

  She sits out and reaches a hand to touch mine. “Because I finally found the courage to see you,” she tells me. “I know I’m terribly late,
but I still want you to know that I didn’t just give you away. I loved you and I wanted the best for you. I still love you, Mitchel. Seeing you now, I don’t feel guilty anymore because Annie raised you right. You turned out pretty good.”

  The guy I am can’t hate her. I don’t even know what I wanted from her in the first place, because it certainly wasn’t for her to fall into the role of mother. I already had that from Grams. I guess, maybe I came to her house for the answer she just gave me. I feel like that’s enough.

  I rise to my feet to take off. Mom gets up as well. I start to leave when she touches my arm and says, “Will you come by for dinner tomorrow? My husband will be back from his business trip by then and he’d love to meet you. I’ve told him about you a while back.”

  Peering at her, I start to refuse when she cuts me off. “I’d love for you and Cassie to talk.” She’s asking for a lot. What should I do?

  “I don’t know,” I mutter. “I have to go back to Rhode Island.”

  She blinks in her surprise. “That’s where you were? Are you going to school there?” A smile crosses her lips in spite of how flabbergasted she is now. “Gosh, I should have asked you all those things, like what you’re into, favorite food, if you’re dating anyone—”

  “I am,” I blurt out. “She’s waiting for me back there.”

  “Oh, I see…”

  I make to reach for the front door. Mom stops me again. “At least stay a few more days. Please, Mitchel. I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but please, this is all I’m asking, that you stay a few more days, for Cassie…for me?”

  Reign will be upset. I promised I’d return to her soon. But I’ve met my mother, found a sister I never knew I had. Dad’s back in my life. Maybe I should stay a while longer, at least until I feel contented to leave.

  Inhaling deeply, I press my eyes shut for a beat then open them as I tell her, “Okay, only a few more days.”

  Smiling up at me, Mom hesitantly reaches in for a hug. She decides against it when she realizes I’m not reciprocating one. I slant to walk out the door but then figure why not, I’m tired of being mad at people when someone like Lewis could forgive after what happened to him.