Mom’s sober when I get back to the house, which is a relief, though she’s not impressed that I’m home an hour later than expected. Both her and Dad have already eaten the mac ’n’ cheese she’s actually made for once, but there’s a plate left for me to heat up in the microwave, which I eat as Mom washes dishes in the sink, her back to me.
“I’m going out again,” I tell her after I’ve filled her in on how my shift went, claiming that Lynsey asked me to stay back an hour. I don’t want to tell her I went bowling with Jaden and his grandparents. She’ll ask too many questions.
There’s the squeaking of a wine glass as Mom cleans it thoroughly. “With Holden and Will?”
“No,” I say. There’s a small amount of pasta on my plate that I’ve given up on finishing, so I move it around anxiously with my fork, staring at the plate rather than at Mom. “I’m going over to see Jaden.”
There’s a pause. Mom sets the wine glass down on the drying rack and turns around, the soapy water dripping from her hands and onto the floor. “Hunter?” I nod and she reaches for a towel to dry her hands on as she studies me for a moment with confusion written across her face. “I didn’t know you were talking to him again.”
“Me either,” I say with a forced, awkward laugh. My chair screeches against the floor as I stand up, picking up my plate and bringing it over to Mom. I stop just in front of her, shrugging. “I don’t really know what’s going on right now, but I figure there’s no harm in finding out.”
“Hmm,” she says, taking the plate from me and turning back around again to scrape the leftovers into the trash can under the sink. Her hair is clipped back, but loose strands frame her face. There’s no sign of makeup tonight. “He was a nice boy,” she muses. “I always liked him better than Darren anyway.”
“Who’s a nice boy?” Dad cuts in, approaching from behind as he enters the kitchen. He opens up the refrigerator and scours its contents for a moment, before finally grabbing a can of Coke and cracking open the tab. He crosses his arms across his chest, staring at me with a teasing expression.
Dad’s always been pretty laid back when it comes to guys. When I was thirteen, I had my first kiss with Ethan Bennett—who now sits behind me in AP Statistics, chewing gum way too loudly—in the parking lot after school when both our parents were late to pick us up. When Mom did finally collect me, I told her exactly what had just happened, confiding in her about such a crucial and, at the time, life-changing event. Six months pregnant and highly hormonal, Mom got so happy that tears broke free and she rushed home to tell Dad. I felt humiliated and terrified back then at the fragile age of thirteen, half expecting Dad to yell at me before he hunted Ethan down, so I ran upstairs in tears and hid under my comforter. A minute later, Dad knocked on the door and sat down on the edge of my bed.
“It’s okay, Kenzie,” he told me, pulling the comforter back to reveal my swollen, red eyes and damp cheeks. I still remember the smile of reassurance he gave me, back at a time when we were all so happy. “You’re allowed to grow up. Soon, you aren’t going to be the baby anymore!”
But three months later, I was still their baby. I was still their one and only. I didn’t want to grow up after that. I wanted to stay young and innocent just for them.
“Kenzie’s seeing Jaden again,” Mom announces, and my eyes fire up from the floor, pulling my thoughts back to the conversation at hand.
“We’re just friends,” I quickly add when Dad appears surprised. “If even that. I don’t really know.”
Dad takes a sip of his Coke and then straightens up, scratching the back of his bare head. “I imagine they have a lot going on right now.”
Like we don’t? I think. I certainly don’t say it out loud, though. Instead I just shrug. “I guess, but they were my friends.”
Dad studies me for a moment longer, then presses his lips together. “Well, okay,” he says, and then turns and leaves the kitchen, heading back to the living room, where the TV is blaring.
Mom has returned to finishing up the dishes, her hands back in the sink, glasses clinking together. “You can take my car,” she tells me before I even have to ask. “But don’t be too late. I’ve invited the family over for lunch tomorrow, so no sleeping until noon. I need you to help me with the roast.”
“Okay.” I spin around to leave so that I can head upstairs to change out of my work uniform, but before I even take one step forward, I spot a bottle of red wine on the counter by the coffee machine, pressed back against the wall as though that’ll put it out of view. Mom hasn’t had a single drink today, I can tell, but that doesn’t mean she won’t resort to it later.
I throw a quick glance over my shoulder. Her back is still to me, the dishes still splashing in the water. I stretch forward, swiping the unopened bottle from the counter and slipping it under my hoodie, holding it against my stomach.
I dart out of the kitchen and past the living room door without either Mom or Dad noticing, and I run up the stairs to my room so quickly that I’m surprised I don’t break an ankle en route. The moment I get into my room, I stash the bottle under my pillows and then actively try my best to forget about it completely.
It’s almost 8PM by now, but there’s no way I’m going over to Jaden’s place still looking the way I am. It was embarrassing enough having to bowl in my uniform after sweating off half my makeup during my shift, so I slip out of my red polo and pants and toss them into the corner behind my door that has become home to an ever-mounting laundry pile. I let my hair down and pull on my favorite black, ripped denim jeans, then quickly fix my makeup. I hate stepping foot out the front door with a bare face, not because I’m trying to impress anyone, but because I feel much more confident when the freckles across my nose and cheeks are hidden and when my eyelashes are much more defined. Concealer and mascara have been my best friends since freshman year. I throw in a pair of earrings and spray on perfume, and just as I’m slipping into a pair of black sneakers, my phone vibrates in my hand. Will’s name lights up my screen, so I answer on the first ring.
“Hey, Will.”
“Hey,” he says. “We’re going for a drive. Should I pick you up?”
I reach for Mom’s car keys on my dresser and hook them around my index finger, flicking off my bedroom light. As I descend the staircase, I quickly mumble, “I’m actually just heading over to see Jaden.”
“You’re kidding?” I feel as though I have done nothing but surprise Will the whole weekend. “Really?”
“Really,” I confirm. The thought of spending more time with Jaden sends warm shivers throughout my entire body, and not in a bad way.
“Good for you, Kenzie,” Will says after a minute, and he sounds genuine and sincere, almost like he’s proud of me. He knows how hard this is. “I hope it goes well.”
“Me too,” I say, and then we exchange quick goodbyes before hanging up the call.
Downstairs, I peer around the living room door to tell Mom and Dad that I’m leaving, and they wish me a nice evening. I inconspicuously scan the room at the same time, and I feel at ease walking out the front door knowing there isn’t a single wine glass to be seen within a one-room radius of Mom.
I slide back into the Prius and I head off, feeling surprisingly relaxed. It’s growing dark outside and the streetlights are slowly flickering to life, brightening up the streets of Windsor. I drive a little over the limit, and I’m across town and rolling along Ponderosa Drive within a matter of minutes. Small towns have their benefits.
I drive to the intersection, hunching over the steering wheel as I pull into the driveway behind the Corolla, studying the house through my windshield. The porch lights are on again, inviting me inside, and most of the lights inside the house are on too, creating a warm glow in the darkening night. I cut the engine and throw a final glance at myself in the rearview mirror. When I left for work at 9:30AM this morning, the last thing I expected was spend my Saturday night with Jaden.
As I’m walking up the driveway to the porch, I pass the boat again. It’s still got its protective cover on and I wonder to myself if it’s been sitting there for an entire year, untouched and abandoned. I try not to think too much about the day I got to ride in it, and instead, I hurry up to the porch. As I adjust my hair, I exhale a long breath of air, and then ring the doorbell. I hear it shrill around the house and I take a step back, waiting.