by E. K. Blair
I smile over at her. “I can’t believe this. I move away, and you get your first boyfriend.”
“Girls, dinner!” Her mom, Suzanne, calls from downstairs.
I eye the spread of food on the dining table. “I’ve missed your cooking.”
I’ve always been able to count on coming over here whenever I’ve wanted a home-cooked meal. With my mother’s career being so demanding, restaurants and takeout have always been the main staple in our household.
I dig into the enchiladas and guacamole while Suzanne asks me about Florida, my new school, and my mom’s job. When I can’t put off going to my dad’s house any longer, I thank her mom for dinner and get back into Molly’s car.
“Call me tomorrow, okay?”
I reach over and give her a hug. “I will.”
I pull my suitcase out of the trunk, and watch as she drives away before walking toward the house. You know you’ve become estranged from your parent when you have to knock on their front door to be let in.
“Well, there you are,” Gwen says as I stand on the porch. “We were starting to wonder if you’d show up.”
I step inside and she takes my bag before pulling me into a hug I don’t want. This woman tries much too hard to pretend to like me, but only when I’m in her presence. Any other time, I’m nonexistent.
“Garrison, Ady is here,” she calls out to my dad, but Parker beats him into the foyer.
“Ady’s here!” he squeals as he barrels into me with a big hug, and I can’t help myself when I hug the little squirt back. I can’t hold it against him that his mom and my dad are too self-absorbed to make any real effort with me.
My dad makes his appearance and wraps one arm around me in a side hug. “Hi, sweetheart.”
“Hey, Dad.”
“How was your flight?”
“It was fine. How was the soccer game?” I ask. Not that I care.
He takes his hand and musses Parker’s hair, saying proudly, “The little guy scored three goals and made some impressive blocks.”
Gwen steps behind her son and places her hands on his shoulders. “We really wish you could’ve been there, but you’ll be able to see him play Tuesday night.”
“Great,” I mutter before we all fall into an unpleasant silence. I drop my eyes to my feet as I shift uncomfortably, and I almost want to thank Gwen when she breaks the tension, asking, “Have you eaten dinner?”
“Yeah. I ate over at Molly’s house.”
She nods before turning to my dad. “Honey, why don’t you help her with her suitcase. I’m sure she’s tired from the plane ride.” Looking to me, she adds, “Let me know if you need help settling in.”
She could easily fool you into believing she actually cares, but actions speak way louder than her words ever could. I’ll always think of her as the woman my father left my mother for instead of the stepmother she sucks at being.
I follow my dad up the stairs and into the room they set aside for me to stay in for the week.
“There are towels in the bathroom for you.”
“Thanks.”
I lift my suitcase onto the bed before turning to face my father, who stands stiffly next to the door.
I wish he would smile.
I wish even more that he would hug me. A real hug. The way he used to before the woman downstairs came into our lives and ripped our family apart.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he finally says before ducking out and shutting the door behind him. It doesn’t stay closed for more than a minute before Parker comes barging in.
“Knock much?”
“What are you doing?”
I drop a handful of pajama tanks into a dresser drawer. “What does it look like?”
He walks over and jumps up on the bed. “Want to hang out?”
“Not really,” I sigh as I carry my toiletry bag to the en suite bathroom, and when I walk back into the bedroom, he’s messing around on my phone. “Do you mind?” I swipe it out of his hands.
“You got any games on that thing? I keep asking Mom for a cell phone, but she always says no.”
“You’re seven. What do you need a phone for?”
He looks at me as if I just grew a second head and exclaims, “So I can play games.”
“Out,” I announce, pointing toward the hall, and when he rolls off the bed with a groan and leaves the room, I lock myself in for the night.
Once I’m completely unpacked, I take a shower and get ready for bed. I pick up my cell, turn off the lamp on the nightstand, and shoot my mom another text.
Me: Gwen puts lavender in the dresser drawers. My clothes are going to smell like an old lady.
I flip through my contacts while I wait for her to text me back and come across Kason’s name. My finger hovers over the icon that would start a new text thread. I want to push it and send him a message, but what the heck would I even say? His number has been in my phone for over a week now, and I still haven’t used it. Not that I haven’t wanted to, because I have. He just makes me nervous, and I hate that I’m so uncertain about how I should be with him.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I click on the notification that holds my mom’s return text.
Mom: We’ll get everything laundered when you get back. In the meantime, try not to be too judgmental while you’re there. Make the best of it.
Me: She folds the toilet paper into a point, Mom. How do you expect me not to judge a person based on that alone?
Mom: Promise me you’ll try to enjoy your trip.
Me: Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.
Mom: You’re my favorite, you know that?
I smile because she has always been the one person there for me no matter what.
Me: You’re my favorite, too. G’night.
Everyone is already in the kitchen, dressed, and eating when I drag myself downstairs.
“Oh, you’re still in your pajamas,” Gwen notes when I walk into the kitchen.
I look over to the clock on the stove. “It’s only eight.”
“Which means it’s nine o’clock in Florida. A tad late to be rolling out of bed. We need to leave in fifteen minutes.”
“To go where?”
She opens the fridge and hands my dad a carton of organic milk so he can pour some into his coffee thermos. “It’s the first day of registration for the summer camps at the children’s museum. We need to get there early before the classes Parker wants fill up.”
I look over to Parker, who’s sitting at the bar top and shoveling heaping spoonfuls of some all-natural, gluten free, dye free, taste free cereal into his mouth.
“I think I’ll pass on this particular family outing.”
Gwen looks to my dad and then me before landing back on my father.
“Let her stay,” he tells her.
She picks up her purse and keys. “You ready, Parker?”
He hops off the stool, saying, “Bye, Dad,” as he runs to the garage, and I swear my hearts palpitates in the worst way possible.
When I hear the door close behind them, I turn to look my dad dead on, but he’s oblivious to the reason behind the menacing sharpness in my eyes.
“He calls you dad?”
“Could you go easy on Gwen? She’s trying to make sure you feel included.”
“Like she did when she picked me up from the airport yesterday?” My voice reeks of annoyed sarcasm before I return to the other situation. “Why does Parker call you dad?”
“Because I’m married to his mom. Because I’m raising him. Because we’re a family. Give the kid a break, he’s only seven.”
“And what about me? Where do I fit into this family?”
Irritated, he grabs his briefcase and coffee. “I’m wondering the same thing, Ady. Because your attitude toward us makes it seem like you don’t want to even try to be a part of our family.”
“The fact that I have to try to be a part of anything is so messed up. It shouldn’t be a matter of trying, Dad, I should just be.”
“The
n just be and stop making it so difficult on everyone,” he states before walking out of the kitchen, and when he leaves for work, I’m determined to be gone before Gwen and Parker return from the museum.
Me: Can you come pick me up?
Molly: Be there in twenty.
The next few days pass with uneventful tension. Conversations with my dad and Gwen are artificial and underlined with unspoken discomfort. My dad has been at work every day, leaving me here with the step-family. I’m trying to stay in the background, so when I’m not hanging out with my friends or spending time with Parker, I’m hiding away in my bedroom.
Tonight, I won’t be able to get away with that since my dad has insisted that I stay in for a family dinner. I scoffed when he called it that. He wasn’t amused.
I can smell the roast that Gwen’s been tending to in the kitchen while I lie in bed and text Micah, who’s still in Tampa. He said he’d rather stay home alone than go on vacation with his parents. So they left, and he’s been at the beach every day while I’m being subjected to the horrors of teenage angst.
“Dinner’s ready,” Parker announces when he bursts into my room.
“Any chance I can get you to smuggle a plate and bring it up here? I’ll pay you ten bucks.”
“Maybe for twenty,” he counters with a mischievous grin.
I set my phone on the nightstand and get off the bed. “What do you need twenty dollars for anyway?”
“To buy the cell phone mom won’t get me.”
“That’s going to cost you a lot more than twenty bucks, squirt,” I tell him as we head downstairs.
My dad is already sitting at the head of the table when I walk into the dining room. Since Gwen is sitting to his left, I sit next to Parker, who’s between my father and me.
“I hope you like roast,” Gwen says, and I respond with a light, “Mm-hmm.”
We eat, and I listen while the three of them talk about a trip to Colorado they’re going on to visit Gwen’s family during summer break. Plans to go hiking in Estes Park and cherry picking are discussed, without a single mention of my inclusion. At this point, I’d almost rather not be involved to avoid constantly feeling as if I’m the outcast. My time here hasn’t felt good at all. It’s the never-ending heaviness in the pit of my stomach, reminding me that I’m not wanted. I can’t seem to figure out what it is about me that has my father distancing himself so much when we used to be so close.
After Gwen clears dinner from the table and brings out the icebox cake she made earlier, I get an uneasy feeling in my gut when my father says, “So, there’s something we wanted to tell you kids.”
Gwen looks at Parker with a big smile as she serves us slices of cake. When she takes her seat, my dad covers her hand with his. The doting expression he gives her makes me want to regurgitate the roast I just ate.
While Parker inhales his dessert, mine remains untouched.
“What is it you want to tell us?” I ask.
She shoots an exciting smile to my dad again, and when he gives her a nod, she beams, “We’re having a baby!”
My eyes dart to my father, and his prideful smile sickens me. “Are you serious?”
Gwen’s excitement deflates as all attention redirects to me, but I can’t hide the shock I wear so blatantly on my face.
“You’re pregnant?” I fume with distaste in my mouth, and before she can say anything, Parker perks up at my side.
“I’m going to be a big brother!”
“Don’t get too excited.”
“Ady!” my father scolds.
“What? Seriously, Dad, you can barely pick up the phone to call me, yet, you’re going to have another kid?”
“That’s enough, young lady.”
“I know this is a lot to take in,” Gwen interjects, her voice needling on my nerves. “But you’re father and I are very excited to be—”
“Can you stop,” I bite out harshly. “I’m so sick of your fake Disney-sweet voice, talking to me as if you’re so delighted I’m here when we both know the truth.”
“Then why the hell are you even here?” My father’s voice booms loudly when he stands, and I meet his stance, seething in my own anger. “You apologize right now.”
“Apologize? You can’t be serious.” Fury for what these two have done boils beneath my skin. “She should be the one apologizing to me for being a home-wrecker.”
“I beg your pardon.”
I glare at her. “You had no right doing what you did.”
She instantly turns to Parker and tells him to go to his room, and when he’s out of earshot, she stands and tosses her napkin onto the table. “How dare you come into my house and talk to me with such disrespect.”
“This is what I’m talking about, Dad. Her house. Not yours . . . not ours. I don’t even know why I’m here when I’m clearly not wanted.” I turn back to Gwen and lash out, “And I’m not some random houseguest you’re hosting, I’m family, whether you like it or not. So, can we all agree that you’re only pretending to like me to appease him?”
“I’ve had enough of this. She is my wife, and I will not tolerate you speaking to her like this. You either apologize this instant or you can find someplace else to stay.”
“You’re seriously going to kick me out?”
He stands cold with his fists on his hips and doesn’t say another word. His silence is a knife to my heart. The realization that my biggest fear isn’t some illusion I’ve built up in my head is devastating.
Sadness cuts through the anger, and when I blink, tears fall, but he still doesn’t budge.
He doesn’t want me.
He isn’t affected at all.
So, why on earth would I stay where I’m not wanted?
The moment I walk into the backyard is the same moment I see her lying on the wicker couch that’s on the covered veranda. She doesn’t make a move as I walk across the yard and set my supplies at the edge of the pool. I watch her, knowing that she shouldn’t be here because she’s supposed to be in Texas for another two days. Yet, here she is.
Something isn’t right, and the feeling unsettles me. This is the girl I haven’t been able to shake for a month now, the girl I gave my number to but has yet to use it. The girl that doesn’t have to do a single thing to pull me toward her. I step closer until she comes into complete view. She sleeps behind a pair of sunglasses and is wearing sleep shorts and a tank with her hair tied back.
I take a seat on the side of the stone fire pit and debate waking her, but the sound of the sliding doors opening alarms me, and I jump to my feet.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“That’s okay, ma’am, I’m here to treat the pool and saw Adaline—” She tilts her head in question, and I clarify, “We go to school together.”
“Oh, you’re Kason?”
She knows my name?
Adaline rustles awake on the couch and sits up. “Mom?” She pushes her sunglasses back on her head as her mother walks over and takes a seat next to her. When Adaline looks at me, I see her eyes are dark, swollen, and exhausted.
“I was coming out to check on you and see if you were hungry.”
“I’m fine.”
Her mother gives her a sympathetic smile before standing. “Well, I’ll be inside if you need anything.” She then looks at me. “It was nice meeting you, Kason.”
“You, too, Mrs.—”
“Cheryl. No misses or ma’am, they make me feel old,” she says with a wink, and I give her a nod before shoving my hands into my pockets as she walks back inside.
“What are you doing here?” Adaline asks, drawing my attention back to her, and she quickly catches herself. “Never mind. Stupid question.”
“Better yet, what are you doing here? I didn’t think you’d be home until Saturday.”
She releases a soft groan and drops her head to her palms.
“That bad?”
She nods, and I move to sit on the couch with her, leaving space between us.
>
“When did you get back?”
“I took the red-eye last night.”
I want to know more, but I’m cautious about asking too many questions. I don’t know if her puffy eyes are due to being tired or if she’s been crying.
“You want to talk about it?”
She pulls her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and it’s now that I see she’s visibly upset when she tenses her lips and shakes her head.
I fight the urge to band my arms around her, not only to comfort her from whatever it is that’s causing her pain but also because it’s killing me to know how she’d feel pressed against me. Aware that I shouldn’t be presumptuous enough to cross any boundaries she may have that I don’t know about, I take a chance on her when I ask, “How about a distraction?” Her brows lift. “Would you want to go hang out at the pier when I get off work later this afternoon?”
The corner of her mouth lifts but just as quickly drops with a heavy sigh. “I can’t. It isn’t that I don’t want to, but my mom rearranged her schedule to stay home with me today. She works a lot, and I never get to see her, so as much as I really want to go, I also really want to spend this time with her.”
“You don’t have to explain. My mom works a lot, too, so I get it.”
She gives me a nod, and as silence stretches out between us, I’m unable to stop looking at her. There’s so much she’s clearly hiding, which only makes her that much more intriguing. I wish she’d open up and tell me what it was that made her jump on a plane last night and come home. I want to know what happened that’s too painful for her to talk about. But also, I want to know if she feels what I feel that’s making me contemplate running the risk of her finding out who I really am.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
She shrugs and her face drops in defeat. “I’ll be fine.”
I can tell she doesn’t believe her own words, and I wish there were something I could say to make her feel better. She doesn’t give me enough time to conjure up anything worthwhile before she stands.
“I should probably go get cleaned up,” she says before heading inside.
She stays with me in my mind, as she often does these days, and when I finish her pool and hit the next house, it’s all I can do to fight the craving that burns wildly beneath my skin. The ever-constant hunger I can’t seem to fully satisfy into abeyance screams at me from the inside. I work quickly to finish at this house before jumping into the company truck and driving until I find myself tucked obscurely behind a vacant warehouse. With thoughts of Adaline and the thirst for my next orgasm, I unzip my shorts, spit a few good times into my palm, and close my eyes as I get myself off.