One of the things I actually appreciate about home is being surrounded by a ton of voices; the chaos and familiarity still make me feel some sense of belonging.

Kids run around the front yard of the big McMansion my father bought about ten years ago at the insistence of my stepmother, Shelly. They throw balls, ride around on motorized toys, all while their two golden retrievers chase them. My sister, Kelly, pushes a stroller around the driveway, watching the two toddlers who play around with chalk on the blacktop.

My brothers shoot the shit on the porch, sipping beers while my dad stands on the front steps, looking over his empire. There may be some tension, but I always enjoy coming home. At least for a few hours, before everyone starts in on each other and we all get sick as shit of one another.

“Samantha, what is it that you do again?” Ian, my middle brother, asks.

“I work for the National Parks Service. I started there in Seattle, and just recently moved back to DC.”

“West Coast, huh? Nothing like the best coast. We took a trip out there to wine country last year for our anniversary, it was awesome. Jake, you have no idea what good wine is until you’ve been out there.” Michael plants a smug smile on his face.

I want to point out that Napa Valley is nowhere close to Seattle, and that my brother has no idea what the West Coast is like as he has barely left Buffalo, but I keep my trap shut. With each word my brothers speak, I feel it grate on my nerves. I just needed to get through the next day and a half, and then it was smooth sailing up to the wineries and lakes with the gracious woman holding my hand.

“And Samantha has a daughter, Lennon.” I pull out a phone and show them a selfie of Lennon and I with a Snapchat filter that makes us look like we have tomatoes on our head.

Ian raises his eyebrows. “Oh, I didn’t realize that. How old is she?”

Michael’s wife, Denise, walks up to our group and begins to listen. “She’s three, going on thirty. It really is true when they say that little girls are like teenagers.”

“Oh, you’re a mother? I hadn’t realized. Is your daughter in school, do you practice organic? Are you into any of those anti-vaccination things?”

The questions were strange and Samantha laughed a little, a nervous tone coming out of her mouth. I laced my fingers through hers to let her know I was there, but this was just plain weird. Why was it that women were constantly trying to compete with each other?

Hell, I could answer that … seeing as my brothers and I were constantly competing for everything from Dad’s love to who had the nicer car.

“Just a regular old mom. Not one of those fancy ones who seems to have time to pose in priceless outfits for professional photos that she posts on Instagram. I never can quite grasp how they do it, I can barely vacuum my area rug and I live in a thousand square foot apartment. Meanwhile these ladies have immaculate white kitchens and fire pits with marble stools.”

Michael and Ian look at each other, then look at Michael's wife. The expression on her face is a sour one, and I swallow the laugh that is about to come out of my throat, causing me to make some kind of choking bird noise.

I should have remembered that Denise was one of those Instagram famous mommies.

“Some of us believe that raising your children in a healthy, beautiful, cultured environment influences them to grow up to be stronger, more worldly people.” Denise sniffs in Samantha’s direction, as if a cockroach might crawl out from under her hair.

“Oh, I’m sorry … I didn’t mean—“ Samantha sputters, and I am about to jump in until someone farther down the porch shouts.

“Dinner! Come in and wash your hands, children, and sit in your assigned seats.” Shelly came out, her diamond studs flashing in the setting sun.

We are literally saved by the dinner bell.

* * *

Forks scrape, mouths chew, bowls are passed and chatter runs on endlessly from the thirty person dinner table in the immaculate dining room Shelly and my father have created.

I’m not sure why I was put to the right of my father, but my brothers were looking at me like I’d pissed in their Cheerios. Looking at the old man, I realize he did look older than the last time I’d seen him about eight months ago. His hair, once the same golden brown as mine, was mostly gray at this point. His face, while still what most would consider handsome, is lined with wrinkles and a constant stern expression. My father has never been a particularly warm man, and his harsh business persona often carried over into his personal life.

“I’m glad you wised up and decided to come home for the new dealership opening. Having the whole family intact for this was one of my dreams … not to mention your mothers.”

Ah, so we were using the dead mom card tonight to guilt, good to know.

“Glad to do it, it’s been a while. Not that I know my Ford from my Hyundai.” I shrug, throwing the little jab in there just because I can.

Samantha stops chewing next to me, and I know she can hear the tension in my voice. It’s funny how well she knows me after just a few months, when my entire life, it’s like I’ve never quite fit into the puzzle that is the Brady family. If I had to come here, had to put myself through this, I’m glad she’s here with me. Part of me hopes I’m showing her the vulnerable part of myself, just like she’s allowed me to become a part of Lennon’s life.

“Maybe you guys can come down for the food truck festival next year … you know you still haven’t seen my trucks.” I cut into my piece of steak, and fork a cube of meat. I need to change the subject, and maybe if I do this for them, they’ll finally come and see my business.

In the years since I’d opened Cones & Corks, none of my family members have come to visit and see how well I was doing. In fact, they barely contacted me down south, a fact that still ate at me.

“Because we have a real business to run up here, son. We don’t have time for vacations or ice cream.” Dad ribs Michael, who then laughs and makes a face at Ian.

“Actually, Dad, I’ve had my own successful business for three years, and we just got picked up to open a retail space.” I could feel my blood pressure rising.

“You did, eh? Well, send us an invite to the opening, we’ll see if it comes to fruition.” He didn’t even look up, just kept chewing his dinner. “So, Kelly, how are the salesmen at the Waterloo dealership doing?”

And that was it. Just like that he fucking dismissed me, choosing to talk about some bumfuck branch of his business.

Samantha leans to me, her hand on my leg taking me down a notch. “Do you want to get some air?”

The conversation continues on around us, and I nod, not able to stomach this charade any longer. I get up, the table looking at me, and simply walk out. They didn’t give a shit about what I had to say just seconds ago, so what was the point of explaining myself now?

Once outside on the porch, I blew out a breath and slammed my fist into the railing a couple of times. My blood still curdled in my ears, all of the things I’d like to say on the tip of my tongue.

“Would it have been better if I blew up at them?” I hear her come out behind me, her toned arms wrapping around my waist as she presses herself against my back.

“We could go back in there, I could get in a mommy fight with Denise and you could battle your father?”

I chuckled under my breath, bitterness tangy on my tongue.

Samantha kissed my back. “But no, I don’t think it would do any good. Sometimes we just have to swallow the bitter pill and know that we are in the right … even when you want to claw someone’s eyes out. Fuck them, you know?”

Hearing the curse word come out of her mouth makes me finally turn, staring down at her and taking her face in my hands. Just feeling her skin was like a balm to my salted wounds, and I could feel my heart opening in a way it never had before. Sure, it sounded so unmanly, but I was falling for this incredible woman and I didn’t care to hide it.

“How come you didn’t tell me about the retail store?” The moonlight streams through her dark hair.

I shrug, suddenly feeling shy. “I’m not sure … I wanted to feel like it was, real or something, first. I didn’t want to jinx anything, and it still could fall through. Was it too much to ask to bring you in when everything was done and knock you on your ass?”

We both smile at my attempt at a joke, and she snuggles into my chest so that we don’t have to make eye contact in this moment. I think she senses that it’s getting too heavy.

“I’d love to hear more about it when you’re ready … and I’ll even help pick paint colors. I’m good at that.”

Everything in me wants to stay out here, alone with her. My body recoils at going back inside, at staying until tomorrow to stand up on the podium at the dealership like some good politician’s son.

“You know what? Let’s get out of here.” Saying the decision out loud only confirmed it in my head as the right thing to do.

Samantha pulled back, her expression not negative but curious. “But what about tomorrow? And your family?”

I shook my head, trying to flesh out my thoughts. “They’ll always be my family, but sometimes family is wrong. If they can’t support me, why should I stick around to do so for them? I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. And we can take one more day to escape reality, go to the bed and breakfast early. If we leave now, we can get there before closing.”

She titled her head, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “Well then, what are we waiting for?”