Chapter 22 Minns #3
I didn’t even have the chance to knock before Mom swung the door wide.
She looked older, her hair greyer but still cut in the severe bob she’d had since I was young.
Her fashion choices hadn’t changed either.
From the same style of sensible flat black shoe she’d worn since I was a kid to the pencil skirt, buttoned blouse and cardigan, and pearl necklace, Mom always looked like she was dressed for Sunday Mass.
She stood there on the threshold, her arms open wide for me and a toothy smile lighting up her face. “Chris, love, it’s good to have you home.”
I hugged her, holding her tight for a moment longer than I normally would, then pulled back. “Good to see you, Mom.”
“Kamirah,” she greeted with a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Mom,” I warned.
“Come in,” she said to me, that overly bright smile firmly back in place.
Kam pressed her lips together in a forced smile and gestured for me to go first, probably so she could hide behind me. I had no problem with that. If I could make this any less uncomfortable for her, I would. It was what I should have done right from the very beginning.
We entered, and memories hit me, knocking me back a step.
Photos lined the long corridor and all the way up the stairwell, documenting mine and my brothers’ earliest memories, as well as all their kids’ milestones.
There was a cacophony of noise coming from the living room, but one voice stood out above all the others. It was my niece, Bella’s.
“Go, Uncle Chris! Kick butt.”
“Bella,” my brother, Luke warned.
“You called everyone,” I muttered under my breath.
“Of course,” Mom responded, her brows furrowed and head tilted in question.
In her eyes, it was a stupid observation, but I’d spent so much time actively distancing myself from my family that I’d assumed none of them would even bother coming. The only people I spoke to on the regular were my nieces and nephews.
It shouldn’t have surprised me, though. Sunday lunches were the norm for Mom and Dad. It wasn’t surprising for Mom to have the full cohort of my brothers, their wives and kids, as well as Kam’s family here, so why would it be any different today?
“Chris is here,” Mom called out as we walked through the archway into the living room. The flat screen they had mounted to the wall was new, highlights from the Seals’ last game playing.
Mom’s words started a stampede of nine kids from toddler to teenager jumping up and careening toward us. The floors vibrated and walls shook from the noise, and I held my arms out, bracing myself for their enthusiastic welcome.
“Kiddos!” I shouted. They’d all grown so much in the years since I’d last seen them.
I wasn’t as present in their lives as a decent uncle should be, but I also needed the distance.
The thought of seeing them was a double-edged sword, painful no matter which approach I took. That’s why I called every chance I had.
William, the eldest of my nephews, was the spitting image of his dad, my eldest brother, David. He and I looked so much alike that there was no mistaking us as anything but brothers. Will could easily be my son, except that at fourteen, he’d already surpassed my height.
I was the runt of the family. The shortest amongst my dad and brothers, Luke, stood a good six inches taller than me, each of them closer to seven feet tall than my measly six foot.
I was also the black sheep—the only one who’d left Boston, the only one who hadn’t followed in my father’s footsteps and gone into the family business.
He’d started a small carpentry company a few decades ago, and with the addition of my brothers, they’d grown it into a thriving construction firm.
As if that wasn’t enough of a disappointment, our lack of kids was appalling to them, as was our distance from the church.
I squeezed every one of my nieces and nephews tight, and Kam did the same. If nothing else, those hugs had been worth the trip out here.
Martin had glasses now, and Josh was literally three feet taller than the last photo I’d seen of him.
At nine turning fifteen, Bella was out of pigtails and dressed like she was on her way to a grunge concert, while her cousin Trixie looked miserable out of her sweats.
She was a point guard and had a hell of a lot of talent, but James was already talking about her needing to do something more ladylike if she wanted to find a decent husband. Apparently, we lived in the 1500s.
“Runt,” David greeted me with a gruff slap to my shoulder.
I stood up and smiled, then held out my hand.
His engulfed mine, his grip crushing, and he pulled me into a rough hug before rubbing his knuckles over my hair.
I batted his hand away and rolled my eyes.
He wasn’t even the tallest of my brothers, but he never failed to make me feel like the smallest.
I gestured to Kam, and he forced a smile. “Kamirah, how are you?”
“Fine, thank you,” she responded, equally cold.
I’d been holding onto a kernel of hope ever since I’d seen V’s message, knowing that if I could tell my parents, if we could make it through today’s lunch, then we could call him.
But this was already going about as painlessly as a wisdom tooth extraction without any drugs. It was going to be a long few hours.
The payoff would still be worth it, though.
I greeted the rest of our family seated around the table with a wave.
None of my other siblings or their wives got up, and most of them ignored Kam altogether.
It set my teeth on edge, my temper flaring that they would be so disrespectful.
But what did I expect when she’d never been able to tell her side of the story?
I really had made a mess of things for Kam.
Kam’s armor cracked when her mom barely showed her any emotion, merely touching her arms and air kissing her cheek before turning away.
The only reason I moved over to the table and didn’t turn right around and walk out the way we came was John, her dad.
He stood up slowly but greeted his daughter with a warm smile and a long hug.
He held her tight and whispered something to her that I couldn’t hear, but the way she held him right back had the tension seeping out of my shoulders.
With Kam’s hand in his, John limped over to the table and pulled out her chair. “Come, sit.”
I looked around for Dad, but he was nowhere to be found. Was he even home?
“He’s cleaning up after bringing in some more firewood,” Mom explained, seeing that I was searching for him.
“Right.”
Everyone was sitting down around the table, the tension in the air thick. We needed an icebreaker, but when I looked to the kitchen, it was spotless. “Mom, did you need any help?” I asked, hoping it would spur some conversation.
“No, love. You’ve just had a long flight. Sit back and relax.” She cast her gaze over the table and gestured to James. “Why don’t you see if your brother would like a drink?”
“I’m fine,” I answered. “Kam, baby?” She shook her head. Her lips were turned down, her eyes sad. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, then kissed her hair. “We’re fine, thank you.”
Fuck. This was going to be a really long day.
The silence stretched out, and when I opened my mouth to ask about the weather, my sister-in-law, Jenny asked, “How long are you in town for?”
“Just until tomorrow morning. I need to be back on Tuesday for a game. We’re headed to San Francisco for a few days.”
“Where’s Krystal?” Kam asked quietly.
“She couldn’t make it,” her dad responded, patting her hand as Kam drummed her blunt fingernails on the table.
“So, wouldn’t. Got it.” Kam nodded and she exhaled heavily.
Guilt swamped me and I hated myself for being so damn selfish. Kam hid it well, but losing her sister had gutted her. They were best friends. They used to speak every day. But since the TMZ debacle, Krystal had cut off all contact. At least Kam had Carina now, but it wasn’t the same.
“Chris,” Dad called as he walked in from the mudroom. His face was flushed, his nose and ears red from the cold. “Good to see you, son.”
I stood up immediately and hugged him, bracing myself as he knocked the wind out of me with his hearty back slaps. He gave Kam a perfunctory hug too—minus the thumps on her back—and moved to the head of the table.
The timer on the oven went off, and it was the signal for Mom, Kam’s mom, and my sisters-in-law to get up. Kam stood up, but Mom waved her help away, saying, “Sit, Kamirah. We have it under control.”
They had the food dished up in minutes, and once the kids were fed, were back at the table. Kam pressed her lips into a tight smile. Twelve months ago, she would have been expected to help. Now she was an outsider, locked out of their clique.
Conversation started up as Mom’s lasagna, baked meats, and platters of vegetables were consumed.
I was glad the attention wasn’t on us for most of it.
David spoke incessantly about work and how well things were going, Dad agreeing and singing his praises.
Luke talked NFL—he wasn’t a fan, but it was his way of saying fuck you to me—and James stayed quiet, watching the kids at their picnic setup in the living room.
“Turn that garbage off, Junior,” James ordered his eldest son.
“They were watching the game,” I said, looking over my shoulder.
“Post-game interview with Hux,” Kam murmured just loud enough that I could hear. He’d played a brilliant game, scoring a hat trick and assisting two other goals.
The table went silent, and I looked around, then placed my cutlery on my plate.
“I don’t understand—why are you still together?” Jenny asked, her lips pinched into a frown.
“Do you believe everything you see on television?”
“We do when you don’t explain why it’s untrue,” Kate shot back.
Kam quietly laid her cutlery down and placed her hands in her lap, not looking up from her plate.