Chapter Eighteen
Kami
“ I t’s the next house on the right,” I instruct Ian as he drives through the neighborhood I grew up in. Dated ranch-style homes dating back to the nineties cover the stretch of land. This place hasn’t changed at all. I feel like I’ve gone back in time.
Memories of me riding my bike to and from school come to the forefront of my mind. The summers Sofia and I’d run to the ice cream truck with my babysitting money. Moments in time that were so minuscule in my life, yet they now come to the surface, giving me a sense of bittersweet nostalgia.
But with sweet comes the sour as the sad and painful memories come up, too. The multiple times I did whatever I could to shield my little sister from watching my mother’s poor decisions come to fruition. The nights I’d lay in my bed enraged at my mother’s disregard for our feelings. Emotions like anger and resentment toward my mother that had been long dormant now come back up to the surface and threaten to burst.
“You okay?” Ian’s voice pulls me back to reality. He reaches out his free hand to hold mine. It’s a small gesture, yet it calms the raging fire inside me.
I take a deep breath, then exhale. “Yeah. It’s been…a while since I’ve been back here.”
I’ve never had anything against the town I grew up in. In fact, as I’ve gotten older, I appreciate the quiet more. I think I even miss it.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
Too much. I feel too damn much. “Okay.”
“It must be nerve-racking.” He wouldn’t be wrong.
“Something like that.”
As Ian pulls up to the house, I see two cars in the driveway. Everyone else must be here already. Good, then I can kill two birds with one stone and give both my ridiculous sister and mother a proverbial smack upside the head.
I take a good look at the house that I once begrudgingly called home. The house where so much heartbreak was felt. I’d rather be working overtime than be here.
The red-bricked house looks well taken care of. The off-white garage door seems to have been recently power-washed, while a small garden adjacent to the front door is lush with pink and purple flowers that complement the green shrubbery.
Good, the place could use a bit of color.
Unbuckling his seat belt, Ian steps out of the truck. Doing the same, I stand at the bottom of the driveway, staring at the white door.
If I could turn back now, I would.
With our bags in each hand, Ian stands next to me. His gaze goes to the house at first, then to me. Instead of asking if I’m okay or trying to encourage me to go to the front door, he just stands beside me in silence for long, silent moments.
“I just need a minute.” I feel this need to rationalize to him why I’m not moving right now.
“I get it. Take your time.” His support is just what I need to muster up the courage and take the first step up the driveway.
When we reach the front door, I take a deep breath, then slowly exhale. “No turning back now.”
I push the button for the doorbell, which causes a muffled ring to reverberate in the house, followed by cheerful, feminine screams.
“That would be my mom and sister.”
I hear him let out a chuckle before I see a figure approach the door. An older man close to my mom’s age with broad shoulders and tall stature stands at the threshold holding open the door. Greeting us with a warm smile, he wears a red plaid shirt and denim jeans which complement his olive skin tone and salt-and-pepper hair. I’m willing to bet this is Mom’s new boyfriend.
“Hiya there,” he greets us with a Texan accent. “You must be Kami and Ian. Come on in.” He waves us inside.
“Thank you,” Ian says as we cross the threshold.
“Here.” The man looks at Ian, taking his duffel bag and my suitcase in hand. “Let me take those for you.”
“Thank you, sir.” Ian smiles.
I watch as the man takes both our bags down the hall until he disappears into one of the rooms at the far end—my old room.
Scanning the interior of the house, I see not much has changed with the place other than a few new pieces of furniture I don’t recognize. To the right of me is a wall of family photos from over the years, each showing my smile as either fleeting or fake because my mom forced us to pretend to be one big happy family. To the left of me is the formal living room with a black leather couch and matching recliners along with a big plasma screen. Ahead of me is the dining room, cornered off by a wall, and the kitchen adjacent to that. Small but cozy.
In my line of vision as I scan the rest of the house, my mom and sister come into view.
“ Mija ,” my mother cries with joy.
They both all but run to me, wrapping me in a big group hug. I give them a half smile, hugging them, one in each arm.
“Hey, guys.”
“We’re so glad you’re here.” My mom smiles.
“How was the trip?” Sofia asks.
“Uneventful. Barely anyone on the road,” I reply.
My mom looks like she’s about to say something else when her gaze zeroes in on Ian. “And who might be this handsome stud standing next to my beautiful daughter?”
“Mom.” I’m barely inside the house, and she’s already embarrassing me.
Ian laughs, extending a hand to her. “Hi, Mrs. Hernandez. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”
Bypassing his handshake, she goes in for a hug. “Don’t worry. We’re huggers in this family. We’re so glad you’re here.”
He chuckles before gently breaking from the hug. “You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Hernandez.”
“Thank you. You are so sweet. And feel free to call me Maria,” my mom gushes.
I give my sister another hug. “Hey, you.”
“Hey.” She hugs me tightly. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed her until now. The last time I saw her, she was going off to college.
I look over to Mom, seemingly deep in conversation with Ian, then turn my gaze back to Sofia. “Mom seems to be in a good mood.”
“She has been for a while. I’ve been dropping by her place whenever I can to see if she’s okay. She’s happier than I’ve ever seen her.”
I turn toward Mom again with a more analytical eye. Her big, bright smile surprises me the more I look at her. Instead of appearing haggard, she seems as though she’s been taking care of herself. Her hair is dyed and she has makeup on.
“What do you think is making her happier?”
“Not ‘what,’ but more like ‘who.’” Sofia indicates the stranger as he comes back from down the hall.
“That’s John?”
She nods. “Believe me, I was just as skeptical. But I’ve seen for myself how he dotes on her. He’s basically here every day after work. All but lives here.”
As great as it is to see my mother smile, I have so many questions. What is it about him that has seemingly changed her so much? What makes him so special compared to the others in the past?
“Hi, y’all. I’m John, your mom’s boy toy,” he teases.
Mom playfully hits him on the shoulder, and everyone but me laughs. I’m too distracted watching my mom wrap herself in this man’s arms. She looks up at him like he’s her entire world. The way she used to look at my dad.
I’m baffled by her blatant disregard for the conversation we had after she broke up with her last boyfriend. She promised me she’d focus more on herself than immediately jumping into another relationship. And what does she do? She does the very thing I told her not to do.
“Are you guys hungry? I made some appetizers before dinner.” Mom ushers all of us into the kitchen.
When I walk into the farmhouse-styled kitchen, I’m greeted by another guy with black, wavy hair and blue eyes. Looking closer to my age, maybe a bit younger, he wears a black Green Day T-shirt that hugs his chest and broad shoulders with dark jeans. He sends me a friendly smile as my sister walks over to him, holding his left hand—which shows a gold wedding band on his ring finger.
“Sis, this is Aaron, my…husband,” she says then squeals. “Oh, my gosh, it still feels so weird to be saying that, but I love it.”
“And I love you as my wife.” He looks at her with a warm smile and gives a peck of his lips to her temple. He then takes his focus back to me. “Hi, Kami. It’s nice to meet you.” He extends a hand to me.
“Nice to meet you, too.” He doesn’t exactly give off the douche vibes I expected. While he has a confident air about him, he doesn’t come off as arrogant.
“Soph has been telling me a lot about you.”
“All good things, I hope.” I keep the conversation casual, hiding my skepticism well.
For the next few hours, we all update each other on our lives. Mom and Sofia ask Ian and me questions I expected, which we manage well.
We later enjoy a large pepperoni pizza for dinner before everyone but Mom and me settles on the couch, watching the latest football game.
I just about finish pouring white wine into two stem glasses when Mom picks up one of them as though she were wanting to make a toast.
“Here’s to family being together again.”
“To…new changes.” Because I’ve seen nothing but that since I got here.
“Your Ian is so sweet,” she gushes after taking a sip of her drink. “I really think you hit the jackpot with this one, mija .”
I play along. “You think so?”
“I have a good feeling about this one, honey. Keep him around, and he just might surprise you.”
“Well, speaking of surprises.” I indicate with a nod to the back of John’s head. “What’s up with…that?”
She sighs. “I know telling you over the phone probably wasn’t the best idea, but I wanted to make sure it was serious before I said anything. You know how it is since you did the same thing with Ian. I told you about John when I did because I didn’t want you to feel ambushed.”
I see where she’s coming from, but how she broke the news isn’t the issue for me. “I get that, but don’t you think it’s a little too soon after your last relationship?”
“What do you mean?”
“Mom, remember how we talked about you not dating for a while?”
“I remember. And I was really focusing on myself, I promise. Meeting John just...happened. And with him, I can’t exactly explain it, but it feels right. He’s so good to me, treats me right, and he makes me feel like I can do anything. I think he could be the one.”
“I’m just worried about you. You’ve said that about the other relationships.”
“If you could see what I see, you’d understand.”
I want to tell her all the ways her deluded belief has fucked up this family. That because of her incapability to emotionally mature and establish some sort of independence for herself, my little sister and I were forced to grow up without a stable male figure. But Mom is going to do what she wants.
The difference is, though, you don’t have to stick around and watch it happen.
I may not have to, but it’s only a matter of time before she calls me to pick up the pieces when the relationship comes crashing down.
In the corner of my eye, I see Ian watching us from the couch while the others are still distracted by the TV. His expression is soft with concern. I don’t think he heard what was said, but the emotions on my face tell him what he needs to know.
I turn my attention back to Mom. “Do what you think is best, Mom. I’m just trying to tell you how I see it.”
I walk out of the kitchen with my glass of wine.