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A bang wakesme early the next morning and having not fallen asleep till almost 1 a.m., my eyes strain to remain closed. Having forgotten to close the curtains last night, the light from the early morning sun is making it extremely difficult. Stabbing at my lids with razor sharp white light and begging for entry only to burn my retinas when I finally succumb.
Rolling over and away from the light sent to torture my poor, delicate eyes, I attempt to gather myself and prepare to face my mom.
Much like last night, it’s my bladder that forces me from the safe haven of the bed and out to the bathroom.
Still half asleep, I don’t even notice that the shower is running as I walk in. But the gruff holler that follows certainly wakes me up.
“What the fucking hell… Get the fuck out of my bathroom.”
“Arrgh!” I scream, spinning round to avert my eyes as the naked man in my mom’s shower snatches a towel, wrapping it around his hips while continuing to shout at me as I hurry from the bathroom.
“Get out of my house! How the fuck did you get in here?”
“Stu, what’s going on?” comes my mom’s voice as she steps out of her bedroom. “Holy… Kennedy?”
“Hey, Mom,” I say, keeping my back to the guy behind me who has finally stopped shouting for the moment. I take in her clothing or lack of. She’s wearing a flimsy black silk babydoll that leaves very little to the imagination. And now I have nowhere but the floor to avert my eyes unless I wish to be further traumatized.
“I don’t understand, Kennedy. What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” She fires question after question at me while I try to focus on not looking up.
“Err…maybe we should all get dressed before we have this conversation,” I say, moving towards my room, although it’s clear that’s not the case anymore. I’m still desperate to use the bathroom, but I also don’t wish to see a nakedStuagain. Whoever the fuck… Then it dawns on me. He’s still grumbling as I turn around and face him. My mom tries to avert what’s coming now I’ve realized exactly who is in my mom’s house, in her bed.
“Oh my fucking god! I don’t believe this. You son of a fucking bitch!” Without thought I launch myself at Stu Carter, my dad’s best friend. He’s not expecting it and I land a solid punch to his jaw before he gets a hold of my wrists preventing me from hitting him again.
“Kennedy, stop. Stop it,” my mom yells, trying to pull me away from Stu, who I’d like to murder right now.
“How could you?” I snarl in his face, then yank my wrists free from his grip, although I’m sure he could have stopped me if he wanted to, and I walk away. I slam the bedroom door and begin pacing while I hear Stu talking to mom.
“Come on, Maria, just let her calm down. Let’s get dressed, then you can talk to her.”
“I should have told her,” I hear her say as they walk away.
My pacing slows but my heart continues to slam against my chest. My mom and my dad’s best friend. How? When? Part of me wants to just walk straight back out the front door and disappear again, but I can’t do that.
I’ve been away too long, and right now Silverbell Shore is where I need to be.
I wait till I hear them going downstairs then I nip to the bathroom and finally get to pee before taking a quick shower and getting dressed.
Grabbing my phone, I notice a missed call and a voicemail. Ignoring them both because I know who it’s from, even though I blocked him once already, I shove the phone in my back pocket and head down to face my mom.
Now I can see the house in daylight, I realize exactly how much has changed. Even the color of the walls has changed. I mean, I know it’s been six years, but… This doesn’t feel anything like the house I grew up in with my dad and my brother as a family. I feel like a stranger. Truthfully, I am.
I should have stayed six years ago, but I couldn’t. Couldn’t face the truth, the loss, the devastation on my mom’s face and the deep sadness in her eyes. I was a coward. But I’m going to suck it up now, not that I have any other choice.
I find mom and Stu in the kitchen having a hushed conversation that ceases as soon as I walk in the room.
“Kennedy, come and sit. I made coffee and muffins. You’re favorite. Well, they used to be.” Her words tail off a little at the end with the realization that might not be true anymore.
Stepping closer to the breakfast bar, I take a seat opposite Stu, who is watching me closely. When I look up at him, I’m glad to see he has a nice bruise blossoming on his cheek from my punch earlier.
Mom pours me a coffee and places it and a blueberry muffin on the counter.
“Thanks,” I say, picking at the muffin as Mom sits back down next to Stu. “So, Stu, wanna tell me how long you waited before jumping into bed with your dead best friend’s wife, huh?”
“Kennedy Scott! That’s enough,” she scolds, her face turning a lovely shade of red.
“It’s okay, Maria, let her get it out of her system then we can move on,” Stu says.
