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“Move on? Ahh, that’s what we’re calling this now”—I wave my hands between them, then around the house to strengthen my point—“Yeah, I’m not sure shacking up with your dead husband’s best friend is considered moving on, but more of a ‘what the actual fuck’ kind of moment.”
“Pack it up or get out, Kennedy. You might be my daughter and I may have missed you, but you will not waltz back into my house after six years and dare be so damn rude to my guest.”
I’m stopped in my tracks a little, and despite wanting to tell her that most people don’t fuck their guests, even I realize that’s taking it too far.
“I think perhaps I’ll leave you two to it. I need to head into the office anyway. I’ll see you later,” Stu tells my mom, looking at her sympathetically before leaning down and giving her a kiss.
I look away and don’t turn back until I hear the front door close. I check to make sure he’s gone before looking to my mom.
“You don’t think you could have told me about you andStu?” I ask, unable to keep the disapproval from my tone.
She rises from her seat, taking our cups and rinsing them before refilling them both with more coffee.
“I could and should have told you, yes, but I think having a conversation such as that is best done face to face. The fact that I’ve not seen you in almost six years and have spoken to you only a dozen or so times in that time has made that more than a little difficult to do, Kennedy.” She places my cup in front of me and sits back down. “If you had told me you were coming instead of turning up in the middle of the night and taking yourself off to bed then we could have talked first.”
“Yeah, well, I had my reasons.”
“Yes, I’m sure you did. Am I to assume those reasons no longer exist if you are here?”
Her tone is a little sarcastic, and I’m not even a little offended because whilst my reasons were valid, they were nowhere near good enough to run away from what’s left of my family. The only person left in my family. I had no right to monopolize grief like I was the only one experiencing it, to have ever grieved for someone they love—two people I loved.
I let my grief consume me, take complete control. So much so that I abandoned my own mother.
I look up at her as tears well in my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mom.” The tears break free, falling like a stream down my face as I finally allow some of my guilt and sorrow a release.
She’s immediately on her feet and wrapping me in a hug—a hug I didn’t realize I needed until now.
“Oh, Kennedy, my baby girl.” She holds me while I sob, allowing my vulnerability freedom.
But it’s short lived as I pull away, swiping at my face and putting the mask I’ve grown accustomed to back in place. I feel naked without it. It needs to be solid and unbreakable, unshakable even, if I’m to remain here and try to move on, make a life for myself.
“I’m okay, Mom.” I move back away from her. One slip up is all I’m giving myself.
“That’s a lie if ever I heard one, but let’s go with that for now. So, do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Nothing. I just thought it was time I came home. I missed you.” I find it incredibly hard to not let my emotions run free with my mom. It’s one of the reasons I’ve stayed away so long. “Enough soppy stuff, tell me about you. What have I missed apart from the obvious?” I need her talking about something other than me.
She frowns, and I know she’s cottoned on to my avoidance tactic, but she lets it slide. “Well, you know how it is here never a dull moment.”
Mom fills me in on the biggest changes and gossip in the time I’ve been gone. There are a couple of things she doesn’t mention, the coffee shop being one of them. I know she had it practically rebuilt and it’s doing well, but I’m not sure how she steps foot in there every day. The other is a someone, and they are someone I’m hoping to avoid altogether. In a small town like Silverbell, it’s going to be a tough ask.
ChapterTwo
“Hey, Ash you coming down the Iron Giant tonight?” Blake asks, as I pull my t-shirt over my head and grab my jacket from my locker.
“Nah, not tonight. I need an early night.”
“Burning the candle at both ends finally catching up to you?” he jokes, putting his jeans and t-shirt on.
“Something like that,” I say, slamming the locker door closed. “See you later,” I call to Blake and Eli as I go.
Outside, I head toward my ride, throwing my jacket in as I slide into the driver’s seat. Every time I get in this car, a shiver runs down my spine, but not in a creepy way. You’d think after all this time I’d be used to it, but it still gets me.
Nolan loved this car, a blue 1967 Shelby Mustang GT500, pouring every cent into fixing it up after his dad picked it up for his eighteenth. We spent more hours than I can count in his parent’s garage, then our own after we moved into our place. I get the exact same feeling around the house, and I’m almost certain he’s there still sometimes.
Turning the key, I rev the engine before pulling out of the station parking lot and heading toward home. I shake off thoughts of Nolan, even though they are never far from the front of my mind.
The fact that I still drive past his mom’s house every day doesn’t exactly lend itself to forgetting any time soon. Not that I’d ever forget that night. It was the worst of my life, and there have been more than enough shitty ones before and after, but not one has come close to the pain and loss of that night.
