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"But you're her favorite son," I said, grabbing him by the ear and playfully pulling him towards the door.
He winced in pain and tried to wiggle free. "Ow, ow, ow!" He protested, his voice a mix of irritation and amusement. Eventually, Kenneth relented and opened the door, rubbing his ear in retaliation.
"Good morning, Mom!" Kenneth chirped, coming to my mother's aid as she struggled with her bag. I watched them with a mixture of awe and envy. They had always been close, their bond unbreakable.
"Good morning, sweetheart," Mom replied, shutting the door gently behind her. Her eyes landed on me, surprise evident in her expression. "Skye, darling, I didn't expect to see you here," she said, her voice filled with a blend of joy and skepticism. She turned to Kenneth. "Is it really Skye, or am I hallucinating?" she asked, half-jokingly.
"No, Mom, it's Skye you're seeing!" Kenneth replied, his voice tinged with exasperation.
Mom looked at him with confusion, her brow furrowing. "Do you mean the endless expanse of the blue sky above us, or are you referring to my dear daughter, Skyelynne?" she asked, seeking clarification.
"It's Skyelynne, Mom," Kenneth said, a soft smile playing on his lips.
Mom's gaze returned to me, scrutinizing me as if searching for any signs of deception. "Well, I guess it truly is you," she conceded, her tone a mix of relief and surprise. "You said you'd never come back, after all."
"She's home because Tresa kicked her out!" Ken chimed in, because God knows I didn't even want to say a word to Mom at that moment.
Mom let out a sarcastic laugh and stretched her aching back before settling down on the couch. "I should have known..." she muttered under her breath.
Her tired eyes turned towards me, and she mustered a weak smile. "Skye, could you do me a favor and get me some water? A cold one, please." She paused, her eyes moving towards the fridge.
But before she could finish her sentence, Kenneth, ever the dutiful son, had already sprung into action and returned with a chilled glass of water. Well, that was impressively quick. Mom thanked him and hungrily gulped down the water.
"So, Mom, how was work today?" Kenneth inquired, a concerned crease forming on his forehead.
"Fine," Mom sighed, handing him the empty glass. The conversation seemed to revolve solely around Kenneth and his life.
As usual, Mom drifted past me without really acknowledging my presence, and I followed suit, heading straight to the dining room where a prepared breakfast awaited me. Coming back home wasn't my intention, but I suppose I should be grateful that she didn't throw me out. Though, it's not like she cares much about me anyway, so why should I care?
But something caught my perceptive gaze that made me pause. I squinted at the glimmer on her finger, and upon closer examination, I realized it was a ring, delicately adorning her left hand's fourth finger. My heart sank as the realization hit me - my own mother was betrothed, and I hadn't even noticed.
From my seat, I couldn't contain my curiosity, so I blurted out to both Kenneth and Mom, "What's the deal with the ring?" My question instantly grabbed her attention. The ring was undeniably extravagant, emitting an air of opulence. So Mom managed to snag herself a man who could afford such a ring, huh? Naturally, I was curious about his identity. One thing I knew for sure: this mysterious man was far from being poor, quite the opposite in fact.
Mom's face lit up with glee as I posed the question. "Well... I'm getting remarried, of course!" she announced.
"And who is he?" I probed.
"No, darling, I can't reveal that just yet. It's going to be a surprise. A colossal surprise!" Mom exclaimed.
"I hate surprises... just tell us who he is. Is he wealthy?" I pressed.
"I won't disclose his name yet, but I can confirm that he's rich. Exceptionally rich, in fact. A multi-billionaire who will transform our lives for the better," Mom boasted.
I asked once more, my curiosity unabated. "I'm asking again, who is he, Mom?"
"I'm not revealing his identity just yet..." Mom deflected.
"Can you at least give us a clue?" I implored.
"I did mention he's rich!"
"And?"
"Well, that's all I'm saying!" Mom abruptly cut me off, refusing to address my question. I had to silently signal Kenneth, hoping he would ask Mom the same question to see if she would respond to him instead. After all, he was always Mom's favorite.
"Well, Mom, can you give us any indication about who he is or perhaps what he does for a living?" Kenneth finally interjected, granting my plea. And guess what? Mom chose to respond to him over me.
"Well, he happens to own one of the most luxurious hotels in the entire city," my mom replied with a hint of pride in her voice. "I consider myself incredibly fortunate to work for him."
