42. Colton
forty-two
Colton
M om wraps us both in a quick hug, like I knew she would. Her eyes twinkle a little more than usual, but she doesn’t say anything. Mom could always read me like an open book, and treating this—us—like it’s the most natural thing is exactly what I want.
“Hey, kiddos,” she says. “We’re celebrating tonight. Lasagna is in the oven. See you at home?”
Of course Mom wants us for dinner. And although the only thing I want right now is to take Kiara home—wherever that may be—I’m not really given an option.
“We’d love to!” Kiara answers Mom’s question. That we nearly undoes me. In my mind, it states that we’re a couple, even if that may not hold the same meaning for her. No matter—I’m like a puppy now. I know it. And I fucking love it.
Kiara slides from the front of me to my side and latches herself tightly to me by fisting the side of my flannel shirt, to loosely grazing my back, and finally hooking her thumb in my jeans belt loop.
Our intimacy in front of the whole town and in front of my mom doesn’t bother me. It feels right and natural.
“Okay then,” Mom says with a chin tilt. “I’d better get going.”
Kiara twists to look me in the eye. “You okay?”
“It’s not like she gave us a choice,” I say. I’m torn between the soft happiness of seeing my life fall into place, and the raw need of making Kiara mine again right this fucking minute.
“I mean, about your mom seeing us together…” She looks down to her feet, seeming conscious of the people surrounding us.
“Give me a second.” I hop back to the stage, grab a folder from Ms. Angela, then pull Kiara from her group of friends and walk her to her car. “I’m following you to Sunrise Farms, then we’re driving together to Mom and Dad’s.”
She looks a little panicky. “I need to bring something.”
I take her chin in my fingers. “No you don’t. You’re family.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
I should have known this was coming. Imagining Kiara fussing over what dessert she should make to bring to my parents’, projecting how happy Mom will be that Kiara is now family and bakes truly just for us, is the icing on a cake I did not see coming. “This time it does. You had minus thirty seconds’ notice. Mom’s not expecting you to bring anything. She’d probably be embarrassed if she knew you’re worried about that right now. Now let’s get going. It’s late already.”
I hold her hand when we walk up the steps to my parents and damn it if I don’t see her eyes glistening in the dark of the front porch. “What’s up, sweets?”
Her mouth pinches. “Nothing.”
I squeeze her hand. “Come on, it’s cold. Tell me what’s eating at you before we go in.”
“This is imp—this means something to me, Colt. Going to your parents’ house for dinner with you. With us being together.”
“It means somethin’ to me too.” I go to pull her in my arms to give her kiss, but she stands back.
“You don’t understand. It means I could lose this too. Them.”
She means if we break up, which I suppose she assumes there’s a risk that I will. Although that’s laughably out of touch with my reality, I can’t really dismiss her fears with a chuckle. So I tell her the truth. “Pretty sure if we broke up—which we won’t, not on my account—they’d choose you over me.”
She lets me pull her in for a kiss. “You’re just being nice.”
“No I’m not. Just saying the truth.” I lean over to kiss her nice and full before the next couple of hours force us to keep the PDA to a minimum, when the door opens wide, casting light on our embrace.
“Last one before dinner at the old folks’?” my dad bellows. “Honey! The kids are here. Told you I heard the truck.”
Once inside with the door shut behind us, he adds, still loudly enough for Mom to hear, “You were right! Looks like she didn’t bring dessert.”
Kiara turns a deep shade of red. “I didn’t—” she starts.
I shut her up by placing my hand on her mouth, pulling her side flush against mine, and saying, both for Dad and for her, “Now you know how they really treat family in this house.”
Dad makes a face at me and adds, “Your mother made fruit salad.”
I mock clench my heart. “How brutal. Mom looking out for your health.”
“Yeah-yeah-yeah,” he says, then drags Kiara away from me and places his hands on her shoulders. “I’d say welcome to the family, kid, but you’ve always been ours, in a way. It’s just this dimwit here that took his sweet time figuring it out.”
Kiara’s shade of red isn’t showing any sign of improvement. “Um… thanks. I-I’m probably as much to blame—”
“No… nope,” Dad says.
“Dad. Why don’t you leave her alone, yeah, ’fore she changes her mind ’bout me.”
Mom pokes her head out of the kitchen door. “Kiara dear, come over here and help me, will you?” she says, giving Kiara an excuse to leave. “I have no idea what I’m doing here,” she mumbles, and we all know it’s a little white lie to pull her deeper into our fold. No speeches. No teary-eyed declarations. Just what Kiara needed.
At some point during dinner, the conversation rolls to our visit with Annabel Plum. “Oh, I’ve heard of her,” Mom says. “She has her own TV show.”
Dad shakes his fork in the direction of Kiara. “See, that’s what I don’t get. She thinks you’re better’n her. Why don’t ya take her with you to go see the bank? Heck, why doesn’t she finance you?”
“Now that’s an idea,” Kiara jokes. “Seriously though, she said she’d try and help me get into that program in France. Put in a good word for me.”
I wipe my mouth and take a sip of water. “She said that?”
Kiara nods. “Couple days after we left, she emailed me.” She glances my way and shrugs. “It’s a long shot.”
“Well that sounds very exciting,” Mom says. “How long is this training for?”
“Three months.”
Mom glances my way. “Oh, that’s not too bad.”
“I’m also looking at renting space somewhere,” Kiara says, taking a long sip of water as if she’d said something stressful.
“Oh that’s wonderful,” Mom gushes. “Any place in particular?”
“Nothing set yet. But I’m looking at the Dewey’s barn.”
“Oh,” Mom says. “Isn’t that a little out of the way?”
Kiara’s face lights up. “It outside the village, but it’s so dreamy. When you’re inside, all you see is nature. I just love it!” Her enthusiasm quickly dies off. “That’s also a long shot, to be honest.”
“Well, we’d love it if you stayed here, honey,” Mom says. “Maybe once you come back from France, things will clear up.” She gives Kiara an encouraging smile.
“I don’t think France can teach you anything,” Dad grumbles.
I place my hand on Kiara’s knee. “I hope you get in,” I say to encourage her. I don’t want her to feel any pressure to stay here, and I know Mom and Dad are bound to do that. They just love having their family around. The short time my sister was across the country, years ago, was hard on them. “I really do,” I add when Kiara looks at me quizzically. “If Annabel says it’s a good idea, then it’s a good idea.”
After Dad and I clear the table, the two of us get started on dishes. We work in silence, as we always do. Dad rinses and scrubs, and I load the dishwasher. It’s been years since I’ve argued against his method, but today he’s spending an inordinate amount of time on the scrubbing.
“Dad?” I say, extending my hand.
He gives me a near-clean plate. “I stopped being an asshole the day I realized I was losing your mom, and she’d always been the best part of me. I fixed myself for her,” he declares.
I don’t want to talk about those days. They’re behind me, as far as I’m concerned.
“What I’m trying to say,” Dad says, completely losing track of where we are in the dishwashing process, “is that I’m happy you have Kiara in your life. You’re different already, I can tell.”
“Different how?” I’m feeling both defensive about this, as if there was some hidden criticism there, and agreeing with him. After all, it was Kiara who convinced me to join the board, and tonight’s session went nothing like I expected.
“It’s like you’re coming into yourself,” he says. “I can’t explain it.”
He’s right. I can’t explain it either, but there’s a sense of inner peace growing inside me recently that makes me look at life differently.
Later, back in my truck, I take her hand in mine and kiss her knuckles. “This was nice, but I just wanna be… be with you.” I almost said home with you, and I’m glad I caught myself. I know where I want this to go, but I need to give Kiara breathing space. She’s figuring out her life, and I don’t want to put pressure on her, one way or the other.