“Are we talking about something else now?”
Bogs chuckled. “No, we’ll get to exactly what I want when we get to my place later. For now, let’s keep it PG.”
“Okay, well, my dad is a bit of a hard ass but he’s amazing. My mom died when I was younger, so he kinda had to take that role of Mom and Dad.” She chuckled. “Poor man. Bought me my first tampons when I was too embarrassed to go buy them myself. Took me to get my first bra. I think he’s still scarred from the experience. But, uh, he’s always been there, ya know, for me and my brother.”
“Was your mom sick?”
She stared back at him. This had always been a hard topic, not just because she died, but how she died. She’d come to terms with it years ago, but most people became unnerved and uncomfortable when she talked about it. Kenzie shook her head, uncertain if she should tell him.
“Don’t like talking about it?”
She wasn’t even sure how to answer him. She didn’t know if it made her uncomfortable to talk about her mom because she never got the chance. Once people found out how she died, they immediately shut down the conversation. Maybe it was out of respect for her, or their own uneasy feeling about it. Either way, the conversation always ended.
While most families were able to reminisce about someone they lost, her family seemed to shut out the memory. It washard on her dad and her brother was so young, the only memories he had of her were in pictures.
“I don’t know…” She shrugged. “No one likes to talk about it. It makes most people uncomfortable.” She sighed. “She was murdered when I was twelve.” She expected surprise and shock. Instead she got silence. This was another common response she had grown to expect, then sympathy, then an immediate change to the subject.
“I’m sorry.”
She pursed her lips and nodded. She always hated when people said they were sorry. Saying thanks seemed awkward. She shifted in her seat, glancing up.
“You must miss her a lot.”
She nodded, fighting back tears. Losing her mom cut her in ways she hadn’t thought possible, and the first year without her was heart wrenching. To say she had come to terms with it was true, mainly because she pushed her mom and her death to a dark corner in her mind. The tears welled in her eyes and she drew in a deep breath.
“You look like her?”
The question caught her off guard. Aside from Taylor, no one had ever asked about her mom. Sure, there were questions about exactly what happened, but those usually came from people who were only interested in the sensationalism of murder. They didn’t care about her mom personally. She dodged those questions.
Bogswasdifferent. He wasn’t asking about the murder, he was asking about her mom. She sat back in her chair thinking about her mom. Whenever she did, which wasn’t very often, the memory of her on the beach during vacation popped in her head. Sitting on a chair with a book in her lap though she wasn’t reading, enthralled with the pitiful sand castle Kenzie had constructed. It was awful but the best she could do at nine. Her mother’s wavy hair flying around her face.
Kenzie didn’t even realize until she looked back at Bogsand he was smiling at her that she, too, was smiling. “Yeah, I look like her. Same hair, same eyes.” She chuckled. “My dad always said I was her mini me.”
“Then she must have been beautiful.”
“She was,” Kenzie whispered wondering what she would have looked like today. Older, definitely, a few gray hairs, maybe a few more pounds and wrinkles, but in her head, she would have been beautiful.
Remembering the beach trip again she giggled.
“What?”
Kenzie glanced up at Bogs. His head was tilted watching her, his face calm. She shrugged. “I don’t know, I was just thinking of her and…” She stopped. This was the most she’d talked about her in so long.
“Tell me.”
“It’s nothing really.”
“If it gets you to smile like that it must be something. Tell me.”
She chuckled. “I was just thinking about a beach trip we took. My dad was bummed because there wasn’t any wind to fly our new kite. My brother and I were so excited, and then it was a major let down, too. My mom kept insisting the wind would pick up we just had to be patient. But seriously,” She smirked, shaking her head, “No wind, the air was still, hell, not even a friggin’ breeze but she kept insisting that the wind would come. Hours later when we were packing up, she announced it was time to fly the kite. Her and my dad went back and forth bickering but like they always did. With a bit of humor.” She grinned. “Then boom, it got windy. Like outta nowhere.”
Bogs chuckled. “Mom was right, huh?”
Kenzie laughed, feeling her wide smile spread. “Yep.” She bit her lip and stared down at her feet. “We flew that kite for hours. Probably my most vivid memory of the four of us together.” She gazed back up at him. “Now, every time I feel abig gust of wind, I think of her. Like she’s nudging me saying, “Hey baby girl.” Kenzie snorted. “Kind of silly, right?”
“No.”
She glanced up to see him staring at her without any mocking just a soft smile.
