Chapter Five
I can’t stop thinking about yesterday. Kyle has been constantly on my mind like a biblical plague. He’s causing all kinds of mental and emotional damage, and I can’t seem to pull it together.
How did I manage it the first time? I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to figure out how to wall that part of my mind off again, but so far, nothing has been successful.
Worse? My mom recognized my distraction the moment I stepped through the door, and in her own little way, pushed relentlessly until I finally caved and told her everything. Now, she latches onto every opportunity to tell me to explore this path, to consider giving Kyle one last chance.
She’s a lot like Bianca in that she loves love. In her desire to see her children happy, she will stop at nothing to turn over every rock and leaf to ensure that it happens. I never should have told her about Kyle. Now she’s like a dog with a bone and just will not let it go.
Raising her glass of wine in a toast, Mom addresses the table. “I’m so thankful that everyone could be here today. To be surrounded by family and love, old and new,” she says with a meaningful look down the table toward me, “is a true blessing. Your smiling faces bring me so much joy. To many more happy days to come.”
Everyone lifts their glass, says “hear, hear,” and takes a drink. As dishes are passed around the table and everyone begins eating, the conversation is a dull roar that I gladly avoid. Food is my distraction today, my sole focus. I just want to stuff my face and fill my stomach to bursting, then go home and sleep the rest of the day away.
That’s not something that’s going to happen, though, apparently.
Clearing my dinner plate, I serve myself a slice of pumpkin pie and heap it with cream until only the barest hint of orange peeks through. My stomach is already full, but as they say, there’s always room for dessert. Before I can eat my way into heavenly bliss, I see my mother heading my way.
She pulls out the chair one of my first cousins recently vacated in favor of watching the football game with the rest of the guys in the parlor and sits down beside me. Her elbows on the table, she clasps both hands together and props her chin on her fists, her eyes dancing with what I would call mischief.
“So...”
I raise my eyebrows and stab my fork into the pie. “So...what?”
“Oh, come on,” she says, giving up the rouse. “I need to know. Have you given what I said any more thought?”
“About giving Kyle another chance? No.” Lie. That’s literally all I’ve been thinking about.
“Sunshine,” she says, her tone disapproving, “it’s been years. Surely, you’ve found forgiveness in your heart by now.”
“He cheated on me,” I remind her, upset that she would even suggest such a thing.
“You were just kids,” she reasons, which is appalling to my sensibilities. “People make mistakes. And he said it was just a kiss. A drunken kiss,” she reminds me.
I never did tell her the whole story. I don’t know why. At the time, I was hurt and confused, and for some reason, I felt as if repeating the words that had been told to me was wrong. I didn’t want to be wrong. But I also didn’t want to be right. So, I never spoke them aloud. Instead, I pushed them to the recesses of my mind and forgot about them. Kind of.
Okay, not at all.
“Mom, I don’t want to rehash all of this. It’s water under the bridge, and I just want to forget it.”
Covering my hand with hers, she gives me that “mom look” that I dread. “Honey, that’s just the problem. You haven’t forgotten, and that’s all the more reason to think this through. I don’t want to see you another ten years from now kicking yourself because you didn’t pursue this.”
Pushing away from the table, she starts clearing the dirty dishes. I stand to help.
“You know, your father and I broke up once,” Mom says conversationally, and I stop in my tracks, staring at her from across the table as if she’s just sprouted another head.
“You what?” I’ve never heard this story before. As far as I knew, Mom and Dad got together when they were teens and have been inseparable ever since.
“It’s not something we run around telling people about,” she says with a nod, her eyes never leaving her task as she continues moving down the table stacking dinnerware. “But there was a time when he did the same, and I dropped him like a bad habit. Susan Laramie,” she says with a scowl. “I’ll always remember that name. Anyway,” she says, as if it’s of no consequence, and continues, “he groveled, and I took him back. The rest is history.”
“Mom, you can’t just whitewash over that,” I tell her. I want details!
She passes me a look as she lifts the dishes and carries them toward the kitchen. Both hands filled with stemware and both arms lined with wineglasses, I follow.
“I’m not going to delve into it. It’s between your father and me. The only reason I brought it up was to make a point.”
“And that is...?” I drop the silverware in the sink and line up the glasses on the counter beside it as she sets her burden down in the basin.
Turning to me, she looks me in the eyes and says seriously, “Honey, sometimes life doesn’t go quite as we plan, but sometimes, those little hiccups are exactly what we need in order to fully appreciate what we have. Maybe this is the universe’s way of giving you two another chance. I think it’s worth finding out, don’t you?”
With a pat on the arm, she heads off, leaving me standing alone in the kitchen to consider her words. Is it worth finding out? I don’t know. I’ve gone over this so much already that I’m not sure what to do anymore.
Maybe Mom and Bianca are right. Maybe I should consider giving Kyle another chance. At the very least, hear him out, see what he wants—assuming he even still wants me. A kiss does not a relationship make.
Clearly, there is still passion and desire between us, but I don’t know what I want, and I definitely don’t know what he wants.
Assuming I did want to try to work things out with him, after running out on him yesterday, he may not want to see me again. I’m not even sure where I would find him, to be honest.
The men in the parlor are cheering. Must be a good game. I stare at the wall separating me from them and find myself wondering if I should follow Mom’s advice.
Maybe. But not today. Today, I’m going to go have a beer with the guys. Tomorrow, I’ll figure out what my next move is.