“Uh.” Once more, she scans our faces like she’s weighing her words. Odd. “Mom wants me to sleep here tonight. She’s upset and doesn’t want to be alone.”
Reed scoffs audibly, not bothering to conceal his reaction.
With a hearty roll of her eyes, Kenzie whacks his arm with the back of her hand. “Shut it, asshole.”
Bristling, he throws the sponge into the sudsy sink water, slopping dishwater onto the counter. He casts a side-long glare at Kenzie. “She’s playing you for sympathy. Because that’s what narcissists do.”
Kenzie protests in righteous defense of her mother. “She loved Dad too. We aren’t the only ones who lost him. Don’t be such a selfish prick.”
Oh boy.Once again, I’m wondering where the nearest exit is.
“She hasn’t seen Dad in more than two years. Even when he begged her to come to the hospital when he knew his days were numbered.” Reed puts his hands on his hips and responds, carefully keeping his volume in check. “If she had given two shitsabout Dad, she wouldn’t have cheated on him and driven him into the bottle in the first place. He’d still be here with us.She’sthe reason he’s dead. You get that, don’t you?”
“You’re a broken record. I’m not doing this shit with you again.”
Reed shakes his head dismissively. “Of courseyou’dtake her side. You’re just like her.”
Kenzie puts her palms out as she backs out of the room. “Whatever, dickhead.”
“Watch out for the attack chair,” I toss, unable to stop myself.
She furrows her brow at me, likely confused by my comment. Totally fair. “Lila, you can head on home. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She turns a sharp sneer at Reed. “I’mstaying withmymother.”
Kenzie departs in a huff, taking the drama with her. Or perhaps she left me alone with the drama.
I chance a look at Reed. He’s cast in stone with a click of his jaw as the only visible movement.
This time, I don’t diffuse the tension in my typical fashion. It would cheapen what this family is going through. Sometimes tension is necessary.
A few seconds tick by, with Reed’s fuming breaths as the only sound. Finally, he turns his focus to me. “Sorry you had to see that.”
“Don’t apologize. Family stuff is hard.”
His head slants to the side. “Say shit, Lila.”
“Huh?”
“Familyshit. Calling it stuff is too gentle a term. That’s what this fucking family is. A big pile of bullshit.”
Inching forward, I retrieve my towel from the counter. “You know I don’t cuss.”
“Yeah, I remember. The soap.” He returns to his post at the sink. “Too bad the statute of limitations has run out, or I’d have already arrested your uncle for thatshit.”
One summer when I was about nine, I stayed at my extremely strict uncle’s house for a few weeks. A single curse word slip was all it took to set him off. I was yanked by the arm down the hall into the bathroom, and a bar of soap was shoved violently into my mouth. And I do mean violently. It chipped a tooth, which I swallowed, and I was certain I was going to die. Never swore again.
“No retribution needed,” I whisper. “He’s dead now.”
“Good.”
A snort-laugh escapes me. I hold no grief for his passing, that’s for sure.
All residual weirdness from the family drama fizzles as we resume dishes. In the silence, my mind wanders. I suspected infidelity was the reason for his parents’ divorce, but to be honest, I wasn’t sure who cheated on whom. The other bomb he dropped was more shocking, though.
Reed blames his mother for his father’s alcoholism returning. That’s a tough pill to swallow. And clearly, Kenzie disagrees, which probably makes Reed feel alone in that grieving fog. In time, I hope Reed realizes that his mother’s actions, while unacceptable, were unlikely malicious. His father was an adult. He made his choices, and he paid the price.
Eventually, the dishes are done, the counters are sparkling, and all the leftovers are put away—including Mrs. Hayes’ legendary cookies. Regrettably.
All evening, it’s been killing me not to devour them. Those things are like crack, though. You can’t have just one. That’s like trying to pee only an ounce when you’ve been chugging water all day. Not gonna happen.
