Chapter 18 #2
Are we doing this already? A diesel engine outside rumbles in the ensuing silence, the squeal of its brakes sounding at a stop sign, the wan October sun filters in from the large, adjoining living room window, and a small branch ticks against the glass in a rhythmic dance with the breeze.
Inside my apartment, though, I’ve managed to get irritated with my parents in the span of less than two minutes.
I take a deep breath. “I do, actually. Or somewhere like it.”
My mom wrings her hands on to the counter. She’s watching my exchange with Dad like she wants to interject but knows it’s a losing battle. We’ve had this conversation multiple times.
“I’m not moving back home,” I say. “I just don’t think it’s the place for me.”
The finality in my voice rings in the air. No one says anything. Maybe I’ve finally made myself clear.
“I thought you had considered somewhere closer, though?” My mom’s voice is small.
“Mom.” I rub the bridge of my nose. “I don’t really want to move to a small town. Lexington is as close as I’ll get to home, but it’s really up in the air for me. And lately I’ve been thinking about doing some charitable work too. There are some good organizations I can work with.”
She perks up at that. “If your problem is wanting to work with people in need, then wouldn’t somewhere in Appalachia be perfect?”
I sigh. She does make a good point, but she’s not listening. I can’t believe we’ve been together for such a short time and we’re already having this confrontation again.
“I feel like y’all aren’t really hearing me.”
My father starts to protest this, but Mom rests a hand on her chest and speaks before he can say anything.
“We are,” she says. “I’m sorry. I just think it might be better if you at least considered your options.” She huffs. “And I hope to have grandbabies someday. It would be nice if we were close to them.”
What the fuck? Where did that come from? I think briefly of how Kendall said she might not want any pregnancies, not that we have a future at this point. Still, my face warms with my rising temper.
“I know you aren’t dating anyone right now,” she continues. “I’m just saying, is all.”
My mother could win awards for her passive aggressiveness, I swear. Dad doesn’t speak; he just sits there with his arms crossed as if to say, “Well?”
“I am seeing someone, actually.” What? Why would I say that? My rational brain is screaming at me to stop talking, but my flight or fight response has taken over, and I guess I’ve chosen to fight. I can name the part—it’s called the amygdala, and right now it’s in charge.
“Oh.” Mom brightens. “You never told me that. Who is she?”
Shit. She knows Kendall, and I can’t go around telling people we’re dating or it will get back to the woman in question.
“It’s not serious,” I say. “But I like her a lot.” That part’s true, anyway. For some reason, I can’t help launching this next dagger. “She doesn’t think she wants kids.”
“What?” Mom’s consternation almost makes me feel guilty, but I stand firm.
“I don’t know. How come you only wanted one?”
“Well, yes, I guess I just thought . . .” Her nose scrunches. “I mean, I figured you would want them. That it would be important to you.”
Dad finally weighs in. “She’ll change her mind.”
I chuckle. He doesn’t know Kendall. If she heard him say that she would never get pregnant just to spite him.
“Do we have to do this? I really just want to go to lunch.” I shift my weight from one foot to the other.
Mom’s face drops a little. “Okay,” she says. “Yeah, let’s go.”
I exhale. These people who raised me are going to be the death of me.
Kendall was right about how early I usually work out, but it’s Sunday afternoon and I have the day off, so I’m relishing doing what I want. I am at the gym, yes, but I slept in this morning, and I feel almost refreshed.
Adam spots me at the bench press. It’s about a hundred times more crowded in here than usual. Chatter reaches me from all directions, and the scent of stale sweat permeates the air. The place is huge, two stories high, and it’s the only gym near me that’s open twenty-four hours.
“Was that your last set?” Adam peers down at me.
I grab my towel and wipe the sweat off my forehead. “I’m done, yeah. You need me to spot you again?”
“Nah.” Adam chugs from his water bottle. “I think I’m ready to go.”
I stand up and stretch. As I’m about to walk back to the locker room, I spot a woman across the gym.
She’s got a thick bronze braid hanging down her back, and she’s wearing a tight workout tank top.
Her hips sway with her movement on the elliptical machine, where she’s chatting animatedly with a petite Black woman who works out next to her.
They appear to be friends, with an easy familiarity between them.
Of course it’s Kendall. She did tell me she was busy this afternoon, but I never dreamed she would be here.
There’s a word for seeing something everywhere—I can’t think of it, but it refers to a frequency illusion—and I wonder if there’s a similar word for feeling like you see the same person every time you leave the house.
Adam nudges me. “You coming?”
I don’t take my eyes off Kendall when I respond. “You go on ahead.”
He glances the direction I’m looking. I hear the grin in his voice when I start to walk in Kendall’s direction. “Good luck, man.”
Kendall doesn’t see me until I’m right next to her. She jumps, then falters a bit on the machine so that I end up steadying her with my hand on her back.
“Jesus.” Her hand is on her chest. “Jump scare, dude.”
My lips turn down. I don’t love being called dude by her.
“Sorry.” I smile at her, but her eyes are wary. “I didn’t know you came here.”
“I don’t, usually. I came with my friend. As a guest.” She gestures to her friend, who has also stopped moving on her own elliptical. “This is Maria. Maria, this is Dr. Wyndham. He’s one of the residents I work with.”
What the hell?
“Grant,” I say. “Nice to meet you.”
Maria lifts her hand. “Likewise,” she says. She’s soft spoken, but her subsequent frown is louder than anything she could say.
A few things are clear to me. Kendall hasn’t told her friends that she and I have something going on. This lady clearly knows who I am, though, and she’s not a fan.
Kendall’s cheeks are pink, and her eyes dart around. She’s embarrassed to see me here. I’m intruding on her real life, and I’m not welcome. I turn to go.
I’m several strides toward the locker room when Kendall catches up to me.
“Wait.” Her fingers touch my sleeve. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know how to deal with this.”
My throat tightens. “You mean that you’re ashamed about us fucking?”
She glances around. “It’s not you I’m ashamed of. It’s about my own pride and self-respect. I told my friends about how you treated me, and now I’m hooking up with you? Can’t you see how that looks?”
“I’ve changed, though.” I swallow. “You said so yourself.”
“Does this really bother you that much?”
I hang my head. “I know you don’t want anything more serious with me.” I look up at her. “I get it. But yeah, it stings a little that your friends think I’m garbage.”
People flow around us as she bites her lip. We are rocks in a river, immovable. A whiff of cleaning product wafts over to us from a nearby machine.
“I’ll tell them you’re nicer now, if it means something to you.”
“Kendall.” I tilt her chin up with my finger. “I’m not concerned about my reputation in general. I care what the people close to you think of me. That’s all.”
She’s got that devastated look about her again, like my admissions are little thorns digging under her skin.
“You’re making this whole revenge plan of mine really difficult,” she says.
“If it makes you feel any better, you’ve already achieved it. The fact I want you so much and can’t ever have you is pretty good revenge.” We stare at each other. My raw honesty is a shard of glass, poised to cut both of us if we so much as breathe. She opens her mouth, then closes it again.
“I’m sorry, Grant.” She turns again and walks back over to her friend.