2. Eli
Eli
Iroyally fucked up.
I let Kendra get under my skin. I pushed too far and said something that was meant to be a joke, but it blew up in my face. The millisecond the words slipped past my lips, I wished I could gobble them back up.
The worst part was, after Kendra rushed out of dinner the other night, nobody would tell me why it was bigger than just a bad, mean joke.
Because it was obvious that I pressed a button that cannot be unpressed.
Kendra and I poke and prod at each other constantly, and we have said some pretty shitty things to each other.
We have been on this same, twisted cycle for years.
It really is not when I’m at my best, but that night was different.
Normally it rolls off her slender spine, or she punches back with something way smarter and sassier.
The Fox Grove fire station is quiet as I’m cooking dinner for everyone on shift today.
Cooking isn’t my favorite thing to do, but my mom made sure that I knew what I was doing in the kitchen and everywhere else in the house.
Laundry, cleaning, you name it. She wanted to send me out into the world as a fully functioning man, not a man-child.
It also didn’t hurt that I was able to help her out around the house, being that she was a single mom to four busy kids.
My dipshit father left my saint of a mother when I was in fifth grade.
Eleven years old and I became the man of the house.
My mom never told me that I was or put any kind of pressure on me, that was all self-inflicted.
Stepping up to help her and look after my little sisters gave me a purpose, a place to focus my energy on instead of being sedentary and suffocating in the pain of his abandonment.
My sisters, Hannah, Rebecca, and Sarah were only eight, five, and three at the time.
Funny how a man that was so religious, so righteous—he insisted that all his children have biblical names—walked out on his family, cheated on his wife, and cast us all aside in the pursuit of greener pastures I’m sure he never found.
As far as I’m concerned, he’s made from the pits of hell, not the purity of heaven.
I know what faith and holiness, love and commitment of a parent looks like, but only because my mom is, like I said, a saint of a woman.
She loved all four of us enough for two parents, even when we didn’t deserve her patience and gentleness.
Working your whole life as a fantastic elementary school teacher, the kind that truly cares about the kids and the job, will instill those qualities though.
I know what it means to have a mother that loves you. Anything else? Doesn’t matter.
The stir fry veggies snap and pop in the pan as I mix them together with my sauce and the thinly sliced chicken that was waiting to be tossed in.
I savor the amazing aroma from the steam rising off the heat as I keep working.
It hits my senses and makes my stomach growl.
I’m sure everyone else in the station can smell dinner cooking too and are getting as antsy to dig in as I am.
Rem clears his throat as he comes into the kitchen, crossing his solid arms over his chest, jaw clenched.
“What’s up?” I glance over my shoulder, continuing my dinner mission at hand so I don’t burn my effort before getting it to the table.
“I need you to be nicer to Kendra. I don’t know what has gotten into you lately with poking at her extra hard, but it has to stop.” Rem sighs.
“We always jab at each other, you know that. It’s our love language.
” I wink at him, trying to lighten the mood, because we both remember I have told him time and time again I don’t believe in that kind of love.
“I admit the other night I crossed the line, and apparently other invisible lines y’all won’t even tell me about. ”
“No I won’t. If Kendra wants to talk to you about it, that’s her choice,” Rem says seriously.
“I understand. I am going to apologize to her, promise.” I frown, transferring the finished stir fry over to a large serving platter.
“I’m serious, Eli, we have all the wedding stuff coming up. I don’t want Lainey stressed out and worried about the two of you not getting along. You are my best man and she is the maid of honor.”
“Don’t worry, brother, I will be on my best behavior . . . for Lainey.” I grin at him.
Rem rolls his eyes, taking a stack of plates to the table as I call out dinner to the rest of the station.
I try to remember as little as possible about you, Eli.
That is part of the problem. Kendra Powell is utterly unforgettable.
Now and when we were younger. She didn’t grow up in Fox Grove, but when she came to town to spend time with her nana in the summers, I swear on my soul I could feel the winds shift.
Like the moment her tiny frame, wild blonde hair, and silvery-blue eyes came to town, her electricity ran through my body, jumpstarting something in my hollow heart.
Kendra was not really part of our group of friends.
She was two years younger than me and Rem, reserved back then and shy, if you can believe it, and kind of floated from group to group when things were going on.
She never fully attached herself, put down roots here that entangled her in the town or kept her in the gossip mill.
Here for a few months then gone until the next time.
Her nana, Mrs. Stella Clark, was the nicest lady in town.
She worked at the library until she was too old to carry stacks of books around and was kind to everyone, especially me and my sisters.
We spent a lot of time there in the summers when my mom worked for the library part-time.
When Kendra was here in Fox Grove, she was also at the library with Mrs. Stella often and became friends with my sister, Hannah.
It was fun to have her around, and my sister especially looked forward to the summers knowing Kendra was coming back every year.
This town might not have a deep history with Kendra, but I do. She might not think about me, but I think about her—more than I should. I have spent years fucking my way through life, literally, trying to not remember Kendra.
Nobody knows the truth about what we share .
. . shared. I already had the perfect nickname for Kendra, one that I had locked away in my mind and was certainly not going to let it slip past my lips in front of her.
She’d probably slap me if I said it, hurting her worse with that one word than the offensive joke I stupidly said in Sutton’s kitchen.
It would sure as fuck make my life easier if I could just wipe my memory clear of Kendra Powell.