She heads through a misleadingly small doorway into a giant kitchen with green-and-white checkerboard flooring, white cabinets, and a backsplash of yellow tile. It smells like tangy tomato sauce and zesty Italian spices. The place is so cheerful and happy that I almost feel like I need to double-check this is the home Karson grew up in.
The woman grabs the refrigerator handle and stops to look at me as if wondering how much he’s told me. “Half sister. We have different dads.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean …”
“It’s okay. I know we don’t look alike. I’m part Korean.” She opens the door and has to move bowls around to fit the root beer inside. She continues talking with her head inside the fridge. “My birth father died fighting in Iraq when I was in kindergarten. Mom couldn’t handle the pain and resorted to drugs. Her life was a train wreck after that. Karson doesn’t have the good memories of her that I have.”
My heart tugs even more for the man I’ve only adored from a distance until now. I picture him as a kid Phillip’s age but already mourning the loss of his parents. He told me he’d never met his dad, but it sounds like he didn’t really know his mom either. I’m not sure which sibling had it harder. Was it worse to lose parents who loved you or parents who didn’t have the ability to love? “I’m sorry.”
“Can you believe after all that, I’m now married to a man on deployment?” The woman emerges with a container of spring mix and a self-deprecating smile. “I’m so thankful Karson is here for Phillip and me.”
I’m reminded of the scene in the original Superman where the superhero catches Lois Lane, and says, “I’ve got you.” She looks down to see they’re flying, and responds, “You’ve got me? Who’s got you?” That’s how I see Karson. He’s been doing it alone, and I don’t want him to have to save the world on his own anymore.
“I’m Taylor, by the way.”
I refocus on the woman chopping vegetables in front of me. She just shared some pretty intimate details with a complete stranger. Though how cool that she’s free to do so. Her family secrets don’t hold any power over her. “It’s nice to meet you, Taylor.”
She squats to tug a bowl from a cupboard. “That’s probably a lot to take in at once, but I wanted to make sure I had a chance to tell you before things get too insane tonight.”
I wonder what exactly she means by insane. The Nerf war was called off, so what else could there be?
“My brother is a jellyfish in armor. You need to know that if you’re going to have a relationship with him.” She stands and faces me. “Of course, if you made it to our pizza night, you probably know that already.”
I’ve never thought of Karson like a jellyfish before. Maybe more like Sully fromMonsters, Inc.He’s a softy who scares people for a living. “Yes.”
She smiles her approval. “Finally.”
Again, I’m a little worried by her wording. I’d like to think “finally” means she’s glad Karson finally found a woman who isn’t afraid of the way he growls, but I don’t get a chance to ask before the insanity she spoke of ensues.
It starts with a tinny siren that grows louder. An RC cop car races into the kitchen. The cute little vehicle with flashing red and blue lights is followed by an RC dune buggy. Then by Grandma Patricia.
“Outside.” She swats toward the miniature cars even though their drivers can’t see her.
Phillip runs through the kitchen to drive the dune buggy onto the back deck.
Karson follows with his RC controls. He slows to let his thirsty eyes drink me in, and I note the cool flecks of concern.
There’s the jellyfish Taylor was talking about. I was right to see Karson’s fierce nature as protective, but part of his fierceness is about keeping a distance to protect himself. At his grandparents’ house, he’s not taking down the scum of the earth. He’s dealing with the people he cares about the most and who have the ability to hurt him the most—his family.
I’m honored to be let inside this inner circle. I thank him with a slow, promising smile.
His chest rises and falls with a deep breath, and I feel its satisfaction to my toes.
“The fire’s almost hot enough,” Karson’s grandpa yells from outside the French doors, reawaking me to the world around us.
His grandma leans over the sink to shout out the window. “Make sure it’s seven hundred degrees.”
“You’re not the only one who knows how to cook a pie,” his grandpa hollers back.
The little siren grows louder again, and Phillip’s RC car zips back in the room, ramming into a cabinet. He appears in the doorway. “You’re losing the race, Uncle Karson.”
And so the night goes. It’s a good thing Taylor took the time to talk to me when she did. There’s not another moment’s peace until after dinner at the picnic table, a million car races down the driveway, my first cribbage lesson, and multiple attempts to get Phillip into his mom’s car.
Karson steps behind me and reaches past to the porch railing, locking me to him and causing goose bumps. We watch Taylor climb behind the wheel of her hybrid SUV. Even then, Phillip’s window is rolled down to reveal his big-toothed smile in the fading purple twilight.
“You’re not going to kiss her, are you, Uncle Karson?”
I bite my lip, awaiting his response. I want him to kiss me, but our kisses still feel fragile, like dreams, and talking about them might be the same as pinching ourselves to wake up.
