The drive home to Windsor is a lot more comfortable than before. Holden has eased up a little and he’s slumped against the passenger seat, his head tilted to the side as he stares out of the window and into the darkness. He’s still listening, however, and I hear him laugh under his breath every once in a while when one of us says something even remotely funny. Will’s tired; I can tell by how quiet he’s gone as he focuses on the road with strained eyes. I’m in the back seat again, but this time Dani is in the center, separating Jaden and me.
Just as we’re driving along Main Street, Will casts a nervous glance at the Hunters in the rearview mirror. His eyes shine, glossy from the streetlights that glare in through the windshield. “Where do you live?” he asks slowly, his voice barely audible. It’s an awkward question to ask and I realize as soon as he says it that I don’t know the answer either. A year ago, Will would have been dropping the Hunters off at their house on the northern side of Main Street, on a quiet, small street that overlooked the lake. But a new family lives there now.
“Ponderosa Drive,” Jaden answers without missing a beat. “It’s by the ball parks.”
“Ah,” Will says after he thinks for a moment. “Got it.”
Even though both mine and Holden’s houses are closer, Will doesn’t turn off Main Street to drop us off, and I know it’s because he doesn’t want to be left alone with Jaden and Dani. He’d rather waste his gas by driving back and forth than drop us off first, but I don’t mind. I’m in no rush to get home.
Holden releases a yawn then, most likely exhausted after the game. He buries his head further into the passenger seat and runs his hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes. “I can’t wait to sleep until noon tomorrow,” he mumbles. He’s lost interest in controlling the music, so we’ve all been listening to terrible chart remixes for the last ten minutes. The heating is on too, filling the car with warmth.
“Lucky for you,” I say. I’m pushed up against the door by my shoulder, and it’s not exactly the most comfortable of positions. My hand is in my hair, slowly massaging the back of my head. It has been a long week, and tonight has left me with a lot of questions, like: What does Jaden think of me now? “I have work at ten.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Jaden leaning forward only slightly, peering at me over Dani. Her eyes are closed, but she’s awake. “Do you still work over at The Summit?” he asks.
I lift my head, shifting my tired gaze to look at him. He seems genuinely curious whether or not I still work five shifts a week. Does he still feel the same about me as he did a year ago? Probably not, and I can’t expect him to after the way I let him down, but it still hurts to realize it. “Yeah.”
“Long shift tomorrow?”
“Until six, so yeah.”
Jaden pulls a face and leans back again, out of view behind Dani, so I sit back too, weaving my fingers back into my hair. I look out at the quiet streets of Windsor. It’s not that late for a Friday night, but for the most part, the roads are still pretty empty. We pass the ball parks at Chimney Park, which I’ve never once used in my entire seventeen years of living here, and then Will pulls around onto Ponderosa Drive. It’s a nicer part of town. It’s not a wealthy area like Water Valley, but still the houses are of a nice size and better maintained than the houses on my side of town. Jaden quickly sits up again, sliding forward to the edge of his seat and hooking his arm around the headrest of the chair in front. He leans forward between Will and Holden, pointing out the windshield with his free hand.
“Just up there,” he tells Will. “The one with the boat.”
Will steps on the gas a little and we speed up toward the house on the corner of the intersection. He pulls up against the sidewalk and brings the Jeep to a stop outside Jaden and Dani’s grandparents’ home. The porch lights have been left on, but the rest of the house appears to be in darkness. The lawn looks overgrown, but it’s hard to tell for sure, and the perimeter is lined with small shrubs. The house is much bigger and much nicer than my own, though smaller and less lavish than the Hunters’ previous home. I spot the black Toyota Corolla in the driveway, the one that Jaden sometimes drives. Just behind it, however, tucked into the corner of the driveway on a patch of gravel is a small boat, hidden beneath a bright blue protective cover.
I remember that boat.
It belonged to Jaden and Dani’s dad, Bradley. He and Kate used to take it out on the lake all the time. I went with them once but it feels like such a long time ago now, that first day in August out on the water with the sun burning down on us, Brad and Kate in the front, Jaden and I in the back, enjoying the refreshing splash of water as we cruised around for what felt like hours.
Two weeks later, Brad and Kate were killed.
It was never confirmed what exactly caused the accident. My uncle, Matt, was one of the first cops on the scene that night. He once told me it was one of the worst accidents he’d ever been called out to. They know for sure that Brad and Kate were on their way home from a late night at the office. They both worked for the Fort Collins Press. Kate was a journalist, Brad was an editor. Apparently, that’s how they met. They would often stay behind to finish up new features, so their late drive home was nothing unusual. But on that night, sometime before midnight, their car flew off the dark, empty road. They hit a tree at such a high speed that the front half of the car was crushed instantly. They didn’t stand a chance.
There were no witnesses to the crash, so the cause of the accident was determined through the process of elimination. There was no ice on the roads at that time of year. No mechanical faults in the car. No alcohol in Brad’s system. All the police know is that something caused Brad to swerve that night, most likely an animal. Those fields are full of suicidal deer.
“Kenzie,” I hear Jaden say, his voice loud and forceful, and immediately I snap back to reality. I hadn’t even noticed that I’d zoned out, my mind in a completely different place, and as I quickly blink to bring myself back up to speed, I realize that Dani and Jaden are already out of the car. Jaden’s hovering by the door, holding it open as he looks back in at me, perplexed. “I said ‘I’ll see you later’?”
Did he? I didn’t even hear him, and now I’m slightly thrown off as I murmur, “Yeah,” and give him a quick nod. Was it a real question, as in he really plans to see me later? Or just a casual goodbye?
Behind him, Dani has her arms wrapped around her shoulders, hugging herself to keep warm in the chilly air. Her blue eyes meet mine, and for a fraction of a second, she smiles. I don’t know if I’m still zoned out or not, but I’m pretty certain it was a thankful smile, and then Jaden pushes the door shut with a thud, and it puts me fully back on track.
Will waits out front for a few seconds as we watch Jaden and Dani make their way straight past their parents’ boat and up to the lit porch. They linger for a moment as Jaden fumbles in his gym bag for the keys, but as soon as he finds them and slides them into the lock, Will takes off.
“Okay,” Holden says blankly, finally sitting up, more alert than before. He twists around in the passenger seat so that he can peer around the headrest, looking unhappy. “Way to catch us off guard! Some sort of warning would have been nice, you know.”
“Nobody ever invites them anywhere,” I tell him, defending my actions. I know I didn’t get a chance to let Holden know that the Hunters might have joined us, but it’s not that big a deal. I am the one who has an issue with the Hunters, not him, so if I can be around them without it being too awkward, then so can he. I invited Dani along to Cane’s with us because I thought she might like some company, and judging by the smile I think she just gave me, I’m pretty sure she appreciates the gesture, so I feel slightly better about myself now.
“Um, nobody invites them anywhere because Dani looks as though she is going to burst into tears any second,” Holden continues quietly, “and Jaden freaks me out because he acts like nothing happened, so I don’t know who’s worse. Some time to prepare would have been great. I thought you didn’t want anything to do with them?”
Will removes a hand from the steering wheel and gently slaps Holden on the arm. “Dude, you’re acting like Kenzie threw you into the damn lake,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Now get out of your pissy mood and lighten up. Kenzie was just being nice.”
Holden grinds his teeth and turns away from me, slumping back into the passenger seat. He’s not the best at keeping his thoughts to himself, especially when he’s already in a bad mood after losing the game earlier. Shrugging off his words, I turn back to the window, closing my eyes. Tonight might have been a bit of a shock; Jaden might have shown up and Darren might have been a jerk, but I still feel like I’ve done something good.
Will drives me home first, all the way back to the other side of town in the direction we just came from. It’s 11:30PM, but I know my parents will still be awake. They often stay up until all hours of the morning at the weekend, watching Friday-night TV until they eventually doze off on the couch together. That’s why it’s no surprise when Will pulls into my cul-de-sac that I can see the flashing of the TV from the living room window.
“We’re going golfing tomorrow, by the way,” Will tells me. His gaze meets mine in the rearview mirror and he flicks his sandy hair out of his eyes. “Are you hanging with us tomorrow night after your shift?”
“I’ll let you know,” I answer, then reach for the car door. “Thanks for the ride. Again.”
Will just laughs as I shut the door behind me. I receive no goodbye from Holden, so I don’t say anything to him either. In all the years I’ve been friends with the two of them, I’ve had a lot more disagreements with Holden than I have with Will. It’s never anything serious and it’s usually not a big deal. We end up acting as though nothing has happened the very next day, so although he’s pissed at me right now, I know by the time we’re sitting in Dairy Queen again on Sunday we’ll be back to normal.
I listen to the sound of Will’s engine fade away into silence as I run across the lawn. I rarely use the footpath, and as soon as I step through the front door that’s left unlocked for me, there’s a strong aroma of spices in the air that wafts over me. There’s laughter too, bouncing around the house from wall to wall, emanating from the living room. I kick off my shoes and make my way down the hall, pausing as I pass the small hall table. Grace’s frame has been moved forward, positioned exactly in the center, the frame freshly cleaned. I run the tips of my fingers along the edge of the table, careful not to touch the frame. I knocked it over by accident a few years ago and Mom shrieked so loud I thought she was in pain. I don’t touch it anymore.
The laughter dwindles as and I peer around the door, taking a single step into the room. My dad is on one couch, dressed in his nicest jeans and a decent shirt, a can of beer in one hand. Mom is down on the floor, sitting by the low coffee table, wine glass in her hand, the drained bottle of Chardonnay almost buried beneath the takeout containers and plates with leftover Indian food that takes up most of the table. Mom’s dressed up too with jewelry to match her blouse, her hair styled in a nice blow-dry for once, her cheeks pink with too much blush.
“Kenzie!” she says, grinning wide as she holds up her wine glass to greet me. “You’re home early.”
I look back down at her suspiciously, trying to gauge whether or not she’s still sober. “It’s almost midnight, Mom . . . ” I state. My expression is blank and I know I must appear sullen, but I just can’t hide my annoyance. Accusingly, I shift my narrowed eyes to Dad instead.
For once, he doesn’t look worn out and exhausted. He is slumped back against the couch, relaxed and carefree. A bead of sweat runs down his temple. Normally, whenever Mom pours herself a glass of wine, he will frown and then swiftly leave the room, claiming he needs to shower, or he has a call to make, or a new job has just come in. Sometimes I think he likes being called out on emergency jobs just so that he doesn’t have to stick around here watching Mom drink away her sorrows. He doesn’t approve of it—definitely not—but I have noticed over the past year or so, as Mom has begun to work her way through more bottles each week, that it is easier for him to just ignore the problem. He can understand why she does it, so I don’t think he wants to confront her about it. However, I am not pleased with him having a drink with her.
“Midnight?” Mom echoes. “Wow, we’ve definitely lost track of time!”
“We sure have!” Dad agrees with a laugh.
There’s some cheap made-for-TV movie on in the background, though I doubt they’ve actually been watching it. It seems the pair of them have been having too much fun ordering takeout and drinking. For anyone else, this is a pretty average Friday night: a few beers and a couple glasses of wine to unwind and relax after a busy week. But in this house, the empty bottle of wine on the coffee table is a cause for concern.
“Dad,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. He can probably hear the frustration in my voice, because I’m not even trying to hide it. I narrow my eyes at him. “Can I talk to you for a sec? In the kitchen?”
The smile on his face immediately disappears and he stares at me. Mom doesn’t seem to notice that I’ve even said anything, because she has grabbed the TV remote and is now flicking through different channels. Dad glances over to her, and then pushes himself up to his feet, taking his beer with him. I am angry at him right now, but I’m trying to stay calm as he follows me to the kitchen. The lights are off, and I don’t bother to turn them on.
“What are you doing?” I hiss at him, my arms still folded across my chest. I stare up at him as I wait for an answer. Recently, it feels as though every time I come home I find Mom either drinking or drunk. I don’t know why I am still surprised every time. I should be used to it by now, but with each day that passes, the more concerned I become.
“We’re just having a drink, MacKenzie,” Dad says, heaving a sigh. He doesn’t like to talk about Mom. We don’t talk about anything in this house, and I hate that I’m the only one who seems to realize what’s going on. And I’m the damn kid!
“Yeah, you’re just having a drink,” I mutter. Doesn’t he get it? Doesn’t he see it? “But Mom’s not. You know it’s more than that. You’re just encouraging her.”
“MacKenzie . . . ” Dad leans back against the counter and rubs at his temple, his beer still in his hand. “Not tonight. Please.”
Not now, not ever, I think. “I’m going to bed,” I state blankly, shaking my head at him. I don’t have the energy to stand here and argue with him over this right now. I’m tired, and I will probably lose this battle the same way I always do. Slowly, I back out of the kitchen, fixing Dad with one final glare. It must be hard for him too. He doesn’t get much of a break from all of this. But joining in is hardly the answer. There’s nothing I can say now to change anything, so I bottle up my true thoughts and instead tell him, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Kenzie,” he calls after me.
A minute later, just as I’m climbing the stairs to my room, I hear him and Mom laugh amongst themselves once more, and I decide that I’m not going to be mad at Dad tonight, because although Mom’s been drinking, at least she seems happy.