Tainted

26. Kenyon

26

Kenyon

I had been gone for twenty minutes, and Zara had called my phone two times. That wasn’t counting the to-do list she had run down before I walked out the door. Now that it was vibrating in my pocket make that three.

“Wassup Babygirl?”

“She has two bags I packed in the closet. Don’t forget them,” Zara ordered.

“Keep calling my phone, and Banana Girl and I are running away together.”

“Excuse me for trying to help.”

“I thought you’d be more excited that she's coming home.”

“I am excited. I just.”

“Worry too goddamn much,” I replied, finishing her sentence.

“One of us has, too. You don’t worry enough.”

“We’ll be there

“Kenyon!”

“I’ll see you later,” I hung up and pushed through Banana Girls’ door.

She sat on the edge of the bed in her Sunday’s best. Banana Girl didn’t see the point in making a big fuss, but Zara wasn’t having it any other way.

“Where are the girls?”

“It’s your big day, so I’m here to take you out on the town.”

She smiled and tossed her hand in my direction.

“If I were forty years younger, I’d take you up on that. Right now, I want to go home.”

“I prefer the town, but if that’s what you want.”

There was still some weakness on her right side, but nothing that couldn’t be worked out at home. The staff gave her a round of applause on the way out. I wasn’t sure if they’d miss her or was happy to see her go.

The sun shined, casting an orange glow through the windshield as I drove. Banana Girl sat in the passenger seat, her wrinkled hands resting on her lap. She hadn't stopped talking since I picked her up, bouncing from one thought to the next.

“Zara says she’s meeting your family tonight.”

“Unless you need her to stay.”

“I don’t need her hovering over me.”

“She worries because she loves you,” I explained.

“She loves you too,” she smiled, and the words came out of nowhere. “You know, sometimes good people make bad decisions. It doesn’t make them any less good. Life is complicated like that.”

I glanced at Banana Girl, half-expecting to see her looking at me, but she was staring out the window, watching the world pass by like she was thinking about something deeper. Or maybe she knew more than she let on.

"You think so?" I asked, keeping my voice casual, but my grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"We’re all just doing our best, even when it doesn’t look like it from the outside,” she paused, her eyes flicking over to me briefly. “Just make sure, no matter what, you take care of My Zara.”

"I will," I said quietly, the promise rolling off my tongue before I had time to think it through.

She smiled softly, her eyes returning to the window as if that settled the conversation. We pulled into the driveway, and I helped her out of the car and up the old porch steps. She paused, waving to the neighbors before entering the door I held open.

“Welcome home!” Their unison startled her, and she leaned back into my frame.

“Y’all didn’t have to go through all this trouble for me!” That’s what her mouth said, but the tears in her eyes told another story.

“Of course we did!” Zara insisted, rushing to her side.

“This is real nice. Real nice,” She groaned as she slowly lowered into the armchair.

I couldn’t help but notice the sour look on Brandy’s face. She was off on the other side of the room while three faces I didn’t recognize bombarded Banana Girl with hugs. They referred to her as Grandma, so it didn’t take long to realize they were Misa’s other kids.

Despite the tension, Banana Girl came home to a warm welcome. I jogged outside to gather her bags before returning and playing in the background. Thankfully, Andre was wise enough not to show up, and Misa was on her best behavior, making my job easy.

“I can’t believe she brought them here,” Zara groaned, leaning into my body.

“It’s fucked up, but she’s their grandma too,” I reasoned because every decision wasn’t black and white. No matter how fucked up.

“Brandy is going to be a mess.”

“Are you trying to get out of meeting your mother-in-law?”

“No, because the only thing worse than not showing up is her thinking I don’t want to meet her,” Zara whimpered, nuzzling further into my chest.

“Toughen up. It won’t be that bad.”

Zara made an expression that screamed she disagreed but focused on getting through the rest of Banana Girl’s celebration. When she got tired of all these people in her face she asked me to help her upstairs. Zara played Brandy close during clean up, closing with a big hug before we left.

I pulled up to my mom’s house, and the nerves I wasn’t used to started creeping in. It wasn’t like me to feel uneasy about something as simple as a dinner, but this wasn’t just any dinner. Family meant everything, but bringing someone around? That was new territory for me. I parked the car and glanced over at Zara.

“Is this the house you grew up in?”

“Yeah, it is. I don’t have to worry about you taking anything that doesn’t belong to you, do I?”

“Nope, I only take your stuff.”

I gently grasped Zara's hand, offering her a reassuring squeeze as we made our way to the front door. The familiar scent of whatever home-cooked meal she had on the stove filled the air, and I instantly felt more at ease.

"Ma!" I called out.

“Kenyon, please!” she yelled, her voice getting closer. “Stop screaming through the house! I’ve been telling you that since you were five!” Loriann appeared in the hallway, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Then you should be used to it.”

Her gaze shifted to Zara.

“H-hii,” she smiled and waved.

“Hi, sweetheart. What’s your name?”

“Nova,” she lied, threatening me to go along.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nova.” Mom’s pleasantries didn’t last long, flinging her hand into my chest.

“Is Unc here yet?”

“He’s in your father’s office,” she replied, returning to the kitchen and motioning us to follow along. “Lamb chops, asparagus, and mashed potatoes are on the menu. I hope that’s okay?”

“That’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You didn’t ask me if I mind?”

“I didn’t ask because I don’t care, son,” Loriann smiled, pausing long enough to cup my cheek, “Call your brother and make sure he still knows his way home. We’re not waiting all night to eat,” she yelled just before turning the corner.

When the coast was clear, I closed the space between Zara and me.

“Trying to sneak upstairs to my room?” I flirted.

“Absolutely not. Your mom won’t be chatting to her girlfriends about the fast girl you brought into her house.”

“You need to be worried about what I think, not her.”

“And what do you think?” A twinkle of amusement danced in Zara’s eyes as she smiled.

“I think we need to go upstairs.”

“That’s not happening.”

I leaned in, about to slip my tongue in her mouth when someone clearing their throat echoed in the hallway. I looked over my shoulder to see Uncle Leonne standing there, wearing an amused smirk playing on his lips.

“I’m not sure this is what your mama meant by making yourself at home."

I chuckled, pulling back from Zara, but not before giving her a quick wink. "Uncle Leonne," I said, stepping forward to give him a firm handshake, "This is my girlfriend, Nova.”

His eyes flickered before smiling at her, “That’s high praise from this one. Nice to meet you,” he said, offering his hand.

Zara smiled, taking his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Leonne."

“Please, just Leonne," he said, his voice smooth as ever.

“Aye, watch yourself.”

“I wouldn’t consider bothering your girlfriend ,” Uncle Leonne joked.

Zara’s head dropped at her phone, lighting up in her hand.

“It’s Banana Girl, I need to take this.”

I pointed to the living room, and Zara rushed in the opposite direction.

“Girlfriend, huh?”

“Don’t start.”

“I mean, this is you we’re talking about.”

“Says the man who’s been single my whole life.”

Unc chuckled, “Touche.”

“Where’s your brother?”

“Speaking of, I need to call him before Mom curses me out.”

“Better get to it.”

Unc disappeared back to Pop’s office while I called Kross to relay Mom’s message. When I finished, I heard my mother's voice drifting from the kitchen, her gentle laughter mingling with the clatter of pots and pans.

Mom lifted her head as I walked into the kitchen.

“Where’s Nova?”

“In the living room. Her grandma called.”

“Hmm, I thought you’d convinced her to put your little ding-a-ling in her mouth or something.”

“I hope you don’t kiss your kids with that mouth, woman.”

“You kiss your mother with yours,” Mom’s face lit up with a grin like she missed having us all here. “Does she have a speech impediment or something? I’m not judging. Your brother used to stutter, too. I’m just curious.”

“Yeah, only for me, though.”

Mom groaned, shaking her head. “I often wonder where the hell I went wrong with you.”

“She gets shy sometimes. That’s all,” I explained.

“You and a shy woman?” Mom’s face morphed into confusion before shaking it off and focusing on cooking.

“Be nice. Please.”

“Why is it so important for me to be nice to her?” Mom had a way of asking loaded questions to make you think. Since she claimed I never did, I got it the worst, so I knew it well.

“She’s my girlfriend, Ma, that’s why.”

“ Girlfriend ,” she mocked with a broad smile, “I’ll be fair. That’s all I can promise you, but she’s a cute ‘lil thing. Did you tell her yet?”

“No.”

Kross walked into the kitchen, putting a pin in the conversation. Not because it was anything he wasn’t aware of. Mom was good at keeping side conversations where they started. I used to hate it as a child when I wanted to know what she and Kross were talking about, but I could respect it now.

“Sorry I’m late,” Kross explained, kissing her cheek.

“What was more important than coming to see your mother, Stuttering Stanley?” I instigated.

Kross waited until Mom turned to put the pan in the oven to flip his middle finger.

“Kenyon, stop it!” Mom yelled, not even turning around.

I stepped out of the kitchen to check on Zara. Not even my footsteps made her head turn, so I eased onto the sofa next to her.

“One thing I learned today. Kenyon is a Mama’s Boy ,” she teased.

“I love and respect my mother, so that makes me a Mama’s Boy?”

“It’s the way you are with her. You’re not like that with anyone else,” Zara observed, but I had to disagree. The pool was small, for sure, but there were a few other people in there with Mom, her being one of them.

“Not even you?”

“You waste your time and try to put up a fight with me. With her, you don’t even try.”

“Come on, let’s go eat before Mom thinks we’re upstairs fuckin’.”

We sat around the table, enveloped in the warmth of my mother's home-cooked meal. She was so happy to have her fancy dining room filled with bodies that I don’t think she thought much about Pops. As the conversation continued, I noticed a subtle shift in Zara's demeanor. Once bright and carefree, her laughter now seemed tinged with a hint of sadness.

Zara was trying to earn cool points, helping Mom clear the table for dessert while Uncle Leonne had called Kross to Pop’s office.

“What was that about?” I asked, noticing the stress on Kross’s face when he returned.

“Nothing. We’ll talk later,” Kross patted my shoulder and reclaimed his seat around the table for Mom’s famous Banana Pudding.

My mom was in rare form tonight, all smiles and soft jokes as she served up dessert. Kross was more relaxed than I’d seen him in a minute, though that could’ve been the bourbon he was nursing while Uncle Leonne remained quiet.

“Oh, and then there was the time Kenyon had a crush on a girl in his class. He decided to write her a love letter, complete with drawings and everything, but little Romeo put it in the wrong locker.”

Kross snorted, shaking his head while Zara leaned forward, “So how did you get yourself out of that one?”

“He didn’t.” Mom grinned, recalling the memory, “She was so happy that Kenyon Keyes wrote her a letter that she had to tell everybody, including her friend. The girls got to fighting. It was a whole mess.”

“So you’ve always been a flirt. Noted,” Zara replied.

"Well, since we’re sharing embarrassing moments, Zara’s got one that’s pretty good too." I turned, giving her a teasing smile as her eyes widened slightly. She shook her head, but it was too late. “It can’t be any worse than trying to impress your crush at the talent show, and I’ve heard your singing.”

Zara covered her face with her hands, laughing, and I continued, not letting her off the hook. "She got up on stage, sang the first line, and her voice cracked so bad that the mic squealed. She ended up running off stage before she even finished."

The table laughed again, and Zara peeked at me through her fingers. "You did not just tell them that.”

“What song was it?” Mom asked.

“Jolene,” I replied, causing Zara to hit me under the table.

Mom and Kross were cracking up, but Uncle Leonne seemed to be the most interested.

“You seem a little for Jolene,” he said.

Zara smiled, “My mom was a big fan. I guess it rubbed off on me.”

“Does she still live around here?” Kross asked.

“Oh no. We left when I was young, but I recently moved back.”

“Oh really? From where?” Mom asked.

Zara poked around her dessert for a moment, laughing nervously, “A small little town. Much different from Northbridge.”

“Next time your mom is in town, we have to have her over for Loriann’s world-famous Banana Pudding,” Uncle Leonne suggested.

“I’d like to think I could rival those good country desserts,” Mom beamed confidently.

“It’s delicious,” Zara complimented, “Kenyon didn’t get his cooking skills from you.”

Mom continued embarrassing me by sharing more war stories, like how I’d always had my own fashion sense and wore my Halloween costume to school in first grade. Zara ate it up until I ended Mom’s comedy run, eager to get home.

“Thanks for dinner. I love you, Mama.”

“I love you too.” She pulled herself from my one-armed hug to give one to Zara, “Thank you for coming to dinner.”

“Thank you for having me,” Zara replied.

“You’re welcome anytime.”

“I might not like her tomorrow, and you’re talkin’ about anytime.”

Mom enjoyed our gentle sparring as much as I did. “Goodnight, Kenyon.”

“Night, Mama.”

Pulling out of the driveway, I tried to ignore Zara’s somber expression, but it tugged at my heart.

I finally broached the subject the only way I could, “You being so quiet is making me nervous as fuck.”

“Being with your family just made me miss my own, that’s all. My sister is probably taller than me now,” she laughed softly, but the vulnerability in her eyes spoke volumes.

“ Sister ? I’m shocked. You give off spoiled ass only child.”

“So do you, and you have a brother,” she retorted as I laced my fingers between hers.

“They’re still alive, just not in my world. So, I pretend they don’t exist. It’s just easier not to talk about her. Them, I should say,” she clarified. “I don’t regret leaving, though. I have bigger dreams than a small town can provide, so I had to.”

Zara was trying not to keep so many secrets, and I appreciated it.