Chapter 23
K enyon hated everyone and everything on Earth. It’d been a long day. The flight from the Los Cabos Airport with a stopover in Dallas had taken nine hours. All she wanted to do was get home, have a nice cup of hot chocolate, and go to bed.
But there they were, pulled over on the side of the road, staring up at Chad Damon’s roadside sign. The graffitied word “moron” had been painted out, with “best” in its place. It now read: “Chad Damon – your best choice.”
Kenyon’s dad, Mack, had picked them up at the airport.
Her mom, who got up each morning at three-thirty to get to work, had stayed home in bed.
Jessa would be staying with them, as her parents were on a cruise and she was afraid to stay alone, something Kenyon had learned about her friend while on the faux honeymoon.
She had to leave for college the next day.
“So,” Mack said as he stared up at the sign, “that’s it. The graffitied version made the headlines of the local paper, but the dipshit had it fixed the next day.”
“Dad, I never hear you swear. Good job.”
“Yeah, Mr. O’Brien,” Jessa said, “if anybody deserves to be called a dipshit, it’s that dipshit.”
Mack pulled back onto the road and headed home. “I don’t believe in using foul language around children. But I guess you two are grown women now, and I can let loose and be more myself. I’m still careful around your brother, though.”
“Dad, I hate to break it to you, but Zach’s been swearing behind your back since he was nine.”
“I know, I know. Jessa, Llayne told me it was you and Zach who graffitied the sign. Is that right?”
Neither woman said anything.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ You two might have an entertaining sense of humor but still, you shouldn’t be breaking the law.”
“But Mr. O’Brien,” Jessa objected, popping her head in-between the front seats, “you have to admit Chad deserves it. Is it all that bad when the person being vandalized deserves it?”
“Yeah,” Kenyon agreed. “There’s that.”
“Well, I admit, Chad deserves everything he gets.” The dad, who was working hard at his dad role, almost cracked a grin. “But nobody needs to get arrested over it.”
“Aw, Pop, you know you’d bail them out,” Kenyon chided.
When they reached the house, they entered as quietly as possible with Mack pulling in their roller bags and the girls carrying their tote bags and purses. But Llayne came down the stairs in her bathrobe.
“You’re home! Hello, girls. It’s so good to have you here.” The mother offered a hug to each traveler.
“Mom, I’m so sorry. We tried not to wake you up. You have to get up in a few hours.”
“I know, but I couldn’t wait to see you. When I get home from work tomorrow, I want to hear all about your trip. But for now, let’s all get some sleep.” Llayne started back up the stairs with Mack right behind her towing up the roller bags.
“Mom, we’re going to make some hot chocolate first. We’ll be quiet.”
“Oh don’t worry about that. Are you hungry? The fridge is well stocked.”
“Nah. We’re good.”
They said good night and Kenyon and Jessa went into the kitchen to go about the business of preparing their comforting midnight potion.
“Wait. What’s that?” Kenyon held a wooden spoon midair as she cocked her head to listen.
“What?” Jessa stood still and stared in the direction of the mudroom.
They heard it again, a noise so soft it could barely be heard, as if a thief tried to slither into the house like a sneaky snake.
“Should we call your dad?” Jessa asked breathlessly.
“Not yet. It might just be a stray cat that got shut in our garage or something. That happened once.” Kenyon pulled a kitchen knife out of its rack and held it up in attack mode.
Jessa grabbed a skillet and held it high.
The back door opened so slowly and quietly it might have been a ghost come to haunt them.
Jessa started to scream but Kenyon motioned her to stop while she peaked around the corner into the mudroom.
She jumped and slapped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from screaming.
She lowered the knife. Jessa followed suit, putting down her skillet.
When Zack suddenly saw them, he bolted and let out a low shriek. “What the hell?” He did his best to whisper. “A kitchen knife? And a skillet? Damn it! You were going to kill me?”
“What the hell are you doing?” Kenyon asked her younger brother. “You’re supposed to be upstairs sound asleep.” She put down her weapon, picked up the spoon, and went back to stirring the cocoa heating on the stove.
“Oh, yeah. Huh. Well, I couldn’t sleep so I, um, took a little ride.”
“In that jalopy of yours?” Jessa was aghast. “That thing’s noisy as a train.”
“Not when I put it in neutral and push it down the driveway and don’t start it until it’s in the street. There isn’t room for it in our garage, so I park it on the other side. Mom and Dad never know.”
Kenyon got a third mug out of the cupboard and poured a serving of the hot chocolate for each of them. She handed one to Jessa, one to Zach, and held hers up to her nose to inhale the aromatic steam.
“Thanks, sis.” Zach leaned on the kitchen counter and blew on his before taking a sip.
Jessa let hers cool off as she backed onto one of the island stools. “Okay, Butch Cassidy. Or is it Sundance Kid? Whatever, give it up. What are you doing sneaking around in the night?”
“Yeah,” Kenyon said as she sat down, too, “what are you doing and how often do you do it?”
“Chill. It’s no big deal. I don’t do it often and when I do I’m just meeting friends for a little while.”
“You aren’t stupid enough to do dope, are you?” Kenyon snarled.
“No, sis, I don’t do stupid drugs because I’m no dope.” He was the only won who got a kick out of his bad joke.
“Girls?” Kenyon wanted to know. She had to admit that her pesky little brother had somehow managed to become a handsome young man.
His curly red hair, a virtual bird’s nest until recently, had been cut into a neat style.
His jaw somehow had squared, and his body had filled out from that of a scrawny kid to become a man she supposed teenaged girls called “a hunk.”
Zach shrugged. “Sometimes. But don’t worry. Nothing serious yet. Besides, Mom and Dad have given me the condom lecture at least forty-seven times, including the part about how it’s so much more special if I wait for the right girl.”
“So has the ‘right girl’ come along yet?” Jessa wanted to know, not the least bit embarrassed about prying into his sex life.
“I have an entire unopened box of Trojans in my car. Does that answer your question? There’s one girl I like but she doesn’t like me yet.”
“Really?” Jessa asked.
He chuckled, said “I’m working on it,” and chugged his cocoa.
“Well, just be careful,” Kenyon advised.
“Okay, okay.”
“Don’t you leave for college at the end of the summer?” Jessa asked. “I hear you got a big-shot soccer scholarship and everything.”
“Yeah. Well.” Kenyon noticed that he hedged. “Hey, how was Mexico?” He masterfully changed the subject.
“Oh, that was great,” Jessa said. “Your sister here fell in love.”
“Oh yeah?”
Kenyon shook her head. “Of course not. We were only there for a week.”
“Too bad,” Zack said. “That would’ve really got under Chad’s skin if you’d fallen in love on your honeymoon.”
“And got married!” Jessa laughed, slapping her knee.
“Oh, man, yeah. Too bad you didn’t do that. Speaking of Chad, did you see how he fixed his sign?”
“Yeah, we saw it.” Kenyon finished her drink and put the cup in the sink. “And with that, I’m too pooped to participate. I’m going to bed. Jessa, stay up as long as you want. You know where the guest bedroom is.”
“Will do. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”
Kenyon went upstairs leaving the two miscreants alone.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Jessa asked.
“I think so.”
“You still got the paint and brushes?”
“Yup. In the trunk of my car.”
“Well then, what are we waiting for?”
They snuck out of the house, put the jalopy in neutral, pushed it out into the street, and took off.