Chapter 21 #3
Kendall looks at me, perhaps for permission, and I give her a nod. Let her shock them. “Oh, I’m from Blacksburg,” she says.
At that, Dad’s head snaps over. He leans forward. “Yeah? What’s your last name?”
“Hodges. It was Amburgey back then. Took my mama’s name later on.”
My mom makes a tiny squeaking noise that she tries to cover with a cough. Kendall, for her part, looks extremely pleased with herself. Her eyes sparkle. God, I’m really into this woman. I should hate making my parents uncomfortable, but I can’t find it in me to care.
“You two are working together then?” My mom glances at me. Her eyes widen.
“We’re also dating,” I tell her and Dad. My father’s frown makes him look like puppet whose face has been pulled down. “This is who I was telling you about.”
“Oh.” My mom fluffs her hair up, a nervous habit of hers. “You never told us who it was, though. In fact, I recall you saying we wouldn’t know her.”
“You don’t really know her all that much, do you?”
Mom chuckles again. Dad’s still frowning at her like she’s a puzzle he might solve.
She directs her attention at Kendall. “You look awfully different now,” she says. My shoulders tense. “I didn’t even recognize you! Have you, uh, lost weight?”
“Low carb.” Kendall smiles, and I nearly laugh out loud. She told me just yesterday she would count carbs when hell freezes over, so I know that joke was for my benefit. “You’re just the same as I remember!”
My mom beams, even though I’m not sure Kendall meant it as a compliment. Mom at least loses some of the tacit disdain dripping from her expression.
“So, you’re a nurse now, Grant says?” My dad almost looks suspicious. My muscles tense. What the hell is he about to say?
If I’m being honest, it’s pretty awful having my snobbery reflected back to me like this. I know what my parents think of people like Kendall’s mother, even though so many in our home county are in a similar situation. Are they even worse than I thought? My mouth tastes sour.
“She just got into med school, actually,” I say.
My dad makes a noncommittal grunting noise, like he’s not that impressed. “I imagine your background helped. They favor that kind of thing.”
That asshole. My fists clench.
Kendall blinks a few times. Her black lashes fan with the movement. “For people who already work in healthcare, you mean?” She’s pretending not to know what he means.
“Robert.” My mom laughs nervously. She looks at Kendall. “Yes, I’m sure nursing has prepared you well.”
“I bet,” Dad says. I tense. “It’s sure nice to have a doctor for a boyfriend too. Maybe you won’t have to go through with med school.”
“What are you suggesting?” Kendall straightens in her chair.
“Nothing,” Dad says, and my blood boils. It scares me how angry he’s making me. “Just that with your upbringing, I’m sure you’re looking for someone who can . . . provide.”
The implication dangles there, that she’s shamelessly digging for money. My mouth compresses into a flat line. Mom digs her nails into the arm of the couch.
“Yes, you’ve certainly got me pegged,” Kendall says. “But actually, I think I’m going to head out. I told my friends I would meet them for breakfast in the morning.” She stands. “It was nice to meet you both.”
“You don’t have to go, dear,” my mom says, but she makes no move to stop Kendall. “We would love to chat with you a little longer.”
“You can stay,” I tell her, hoping she sees how I would rather have her here than my parents. Kendall smiles politely, but it’s brittle. What started as fun has lost its luster in the face of my parents’ clear condescension. I walk with her to the door and turn to them. “Excuse us a minute.”
I step outside and follow her to the driveway where her car is parked.
“Don’t leave,” I say. “I’ll get rid of them.”
She blinks rapidly again. I’ve seen her cry only once, back when we were seniors, and this is closer than I’ve ever seen her again. Damn it.
“It won’t matter to them if I get through med school or make millions of dollars. My status won’t change. I’m just . . . nothing to them.”
“Kendall.” I plant my hand on her car door before she can turn and open it. “I’m sorry. Again. For how they made you feel.”
She wipes a hand over her eyes. They look clear again, like she’s willed her tears back. “At least you were more blatant in your scorn. I hate that passive aggressive bullshit.” She takes a deep breath. “It’s okay, though. I’m just going to go.”
I take my hand off her car when I see her resolve. “It’s not okay. But I promise I’m going to have a talk with them. And I still want to see you again.”
She nods, then lets me give her a quick kiss before she gets in her car to drive off. My steps gain speed and force as I walk back into my house. I slam the door behind me.
My mother startles and lays a hand on her chest. “Goodness!”
“What the hell was that?” I plant my hands on my hips, my eyes flicking back and forth between them.
“Language, son,” my dad says.
“Ah, yes. Since we have the sort of value system where it’s not okay to curse, but it is okay to look down on someone we think is inferior.”
“Inferior? I never said that.” My mom fluffs her hair again. I get a whiff of her floral perfume, something she buys from a department store in Lexington.
“You didn’t have to!” I shout. “It’s written all over your faces. Both of you.”
“I think you aren’t being fair,” my dad says.
“We were just surprised,” Mom says. “I can’t imagine what you have in common. I don’t even think her family went to church.”
“Oh, good God.” I swipe a hand down my face. I haven’t sat down yet. I’m too amped up. “I can’t do this with you. For the record, yes, I have things in common with a fellow future physician from my own hometown. And it’s a fucking wonder she’ll even talk to me.”
My mom flinches at my swearing. “What do you mean?”
“I made her life a living hell in high school. I was her bully. And the fact she’ll give me the time of day is a miracle. She’s too good for me.”
“It can’t have been that bad,” my dad says. “You weren’t a bad kid.”
“No?” I cross my arms over my chest and stare at them. “I was awful. I took things out of her locker. Picked on her.”
My dad waves that off. “That sounds like teenager stuff.”
“I took her winter clothes once in gym class, and she had to go home in the cold in shorts. I don’t even know if she had other warm pants.
I think I wanted to see if she would cry, and she finally did.
Around the time we graduated. I taunted her about how her dad wasn’t around, right after I took her phone from her hands and went through her text messages. ”
Dad blanches.
“I called her cruel names. Made fun of how she looked. So yeah, I was terrible to her. Beyond terrible.”
“Grant.” My dad looks at me like I might be a stranger, and honestly, I feel like one. I’ve never seen this degree of emotion on his face. “Why would you do those things?”
“Because I thought I was better than her,” I say.
To my surprise, my throat stings. “And all the success she had drove me crazy, like she didn’t deserve it.
Her being valedictorian. The way other people still liked her despite the fact she had nothing.
It’s like she was spitting in the face of everything important to me.
” Tears track down my cheeks. “And I own that. I’ve apologized, and I’ve done work to try and make up for it.
It was my fault. But who do you think taught me that?
” I gesture to the door. “Look at how you just treated her yourself!”
Dad hangs his head. When he looks up at me again, his mouth flattens. “I shouldn’t have said those things to her, I’ll admit. But I was concerned about her intentions. You have to admit you aren’t the most likely pair.”
I use my sleeve to wipe under my eyes. “Like I said, she’s the one who’s too good for me.”
My parents are quiet. My mother sniffles, and I can see that her cheeks are wet.
“Well, Son,” Dad says, “if you like her, and she likes you, too, we can accept that.” He clears his throat. “Even though it’s hard to see it working out.”
“I do have feelings for her,” I say quietly. “You have no idea how much. And I don’t know what she thinks now.” I shift my weight. “After how you two made her feel.”
Dad shares a look with Mom I don’t understand, an expression that speaks to a shared secret. A moment of curiosity arises, but I shake it off. I don’t even care.
They turn back to me, and my mom has the decency to look ashamed. She stands. “I think we’ll leave you alone,” she says.
“Yeah. I think that’s a good idea.”
She hugs me, and Dad thumps me on the shoulder. I retreat to my room, where I text Kendall another apology. She doesn’t respond, which is fine.
I flop to my bed and dig my head into my pillow. What am I going to do now?