another apartment out here, or maybe you’re going to skip out on law school and move back there to Hokie Town, U.S.A..”
He was angry, and he had every right to be. I ignored his last comment, mostly because I had no idea what the hell I was doing anymore. “I’ll be there next week to pick up my things and give you the ring. I’m sorry, Jeremy. Good-bye.”
I slid off the engagement ring. It felt as if I’d taken a hundred pound weight off my hand. I placed it in the top drawer of my nightstand for safe keeping. In the midst of what I’d been sure would break his heart, Jeremy’s mind had gone straight to the ring. That reaction, which, I realized now, I should have expected, had relieved some of my guilt.
I stood up. It felt as if someone had pumped helium into my shoes. I felt lighter and happier. I felt free. Then I heard my mom clanking around in the kitchen and the weight fell on my shoulders again. I had to tell her next, and she, unlike Jeremy, would be heartbroken.
I picked up my duffle bag and stepped into the hallway. I decided to catch her when she was poring over her spreadsheets, adding up her profits for the week. Profits always made her happy.
Mom looked up as I placed my duffle bag on the kitchen floor. She pushed up her glasses. “Kenny? Where are you going?” Her expression dropped like a lead weight. “Are you going to back to New York already?”
“No, I’m staying here in California, but I’m heading up to Chantry’s Pointe for a few days. I’ll be back soon.”
The confusion on her face turned to concern. “Is everything all right, Kenny. You don’t seem yourself. Is it Jeremy? Everyone gets pre-wedding jitters.”
I shook my head to stop her. “I need a little time to rethink everything. Grady’s death has put some things into perspective for me.” My courage escaped me, and I couldn’t get the words about the breakup out.
Mom got up from her chair. I heard Dad walk into the kitchen. I was hoping I was going to get away with telling one parent and letting the news travel down the chain without me having to face them both.
“Kenna’s going to the beach for a few days,” Mom told Dad, as if I was doing something bad.
Dad walked straight to the refrigerator. “Don’t forget the sunscreen.”
“See, Mom. Dad understands.” I was a chicken and a coward. I knew my news would disappoint them. I’d always been predictable. I’d always done the right thing.
Mom shot a disappointed eye roll Dad’s direction and returned her focus to me. “Who are you going with?”
I had been hoping to escape the interrogation without the key question. I was standing in my parents’ kitchen, and I had to remind myself that I was no longer a teenager asking for permission to go out for the night. “I’m going with Caden.”
My mom’s flat-faced look of disapproval that followed was one I hadn’t seen in many years. With the exception that Mom had more wrinkles and creases around her eyes, it hadn’t changed a bit. “Oh, Kenna, do you think that’s a good idea?”
Dad carried his can of soda to the counter and popped it open. It seemed this newly added information had piqued his interest in my beach trip.
“Why isn’t it a good idea? Caden is a good friend. He lost his brother. I lost my best friend. We’ve been through a lot.”
Mom shot Dad a glance that seemed to signify some secret, conspiratorial exchange between them. “But, Kenny—”
“What? You’re reading too much into this.” She wasn’t, of course, and I hated that she still knew everything I was thinking. The Mom sixth sense thing obviously never faded in power.
“Am I?” She glanced unnecessarily across the street at the Stratton’s house and then looked back at me. “You’ve always had such strong feelings for Caden. I worry that—”
“What?” I felt my cheeks flush pink. “Strong feelings? He was fun to hang out with and he was Grady’s brother.”
“And you had a crush on him that was big enough to break a hundred pounds of walnuts from their shells.”
I looked openmouthed and speechless to my dad for help. He lifted his can in a toast and winked.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, walnut lady. I admired him. That’s all.” I was digging myself into my own pit of lies. Stupidly, I thought I’d