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“This is a nice bottle,” she said, turning it to look at the brand. “Better than I buy.”
“It’s New Year's Eve,” he said. “Why not splurge?”
See, he could and he did. Some of it was to impress Kendra and the other was, he did enjoy this so why buy something cheaper if it tasted like shit?
“That’s true,” she said. “I don’t drink often. It’s going to go great with dinner. So, do you want to talk or play games to start? We’ve got all night.”
She blushed when she said that, but he didn’t let on. “We can talk. Tell me more about you as a kid.”
“Oh,” she said. “I guess. It’s boring. Or I was. Well, that’s a lie. My mother pointed out I used to be more outgoing and fun. I used to pay more attention to fashion and friends.”
“What made you stop?” he asked.
She shrugged and leaned against the kitchen counter. “You can’t keep up with the Joneses,” she said. “I learned that the hard way.”
“You’ll always be chasing the pot of the gold at the rainbow if you do try and I’ve never heard of anyone finding it yet.”
“Exactly. It’s so hard to fit in, but I tried. I didn’t play sports so that took me out of that group of kids. I wasn’t smart like the real kids that were called nerds. I think I just… was. I existed. That middle ground that was hard to blend in.”
Interesting. “Are you trying to blend in now?”
“That might be some of it. I couldn’t wait to get out of school. When I was younger, life was different. I don’t think my parents had a wonderful marriage, but I didn’t think my father would leave either.”
“I’m sorry you went through that.”
“It happened.”
“Do you talk to your father now?”
“Nope. He lives in Charlotte, but I’ll never forgive him for what he did.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” She’d mentioned before it had something to do with her mother and caring for her.
“I don’t mind. I just don’t want it to put a damper on our date. Maybe a few minutes to get it out in the open.”
“It’s up to you,” he said. “I don’t want to push you.”
“It’s fine. My mother started to lose her sight or have issues in her early thirties. My father didn’t believe it. He thought she was making it up for attention or something. That she wanted him to wait on her. My father liked to do his own thing. He had friends he hung out with and went to sporting events. My mother was fine with it. She wasn’t into the same things as my father so when it came to stuff like that, they lived their own lives and seemed happy enough.”
“It can work for some people, not for others.” He wasn’t going to judge.
“That’s right. It did. It was years before my father finally realized what was going to happen to my mother. I think he thought deep down it’d stop. She could still drive, she was doing things around the house. She wasn’t helpless.”
“I get the feeling she isn’t helpless now either.”
“She’s not. She tells me that all the time. More so this week.”
“Why this week?” he asked.
She shrugged again. “Doesn’t matter. Little by little my mother was struggling at work. She was making mistakes. She finally told them what was going on and they felt horrible they didn’t know.”
“Why wouldn’t she have told them?” he asked.
“Because my father made her feel like shit that she’d need help. She’d always been independent and she didn’t want to believe it herself. I guess denial was a huge part.”
“I can understand the second part.”
“That was hard. Not everyone wants help from other people. As much as my father hated doing things, my mother detested more needing it.”
