And he does. He kisses me in a way that sends me reeling and everything around us simply fades away. I have so many questions for him. Will he still come see me at the theatre? Would we keep up our correspondence? Were we just going to go back to the way things were? Or… was he officially saying goodbye?
I want to ask, I have to know. But the look in Keenan’s eyes when he finally releases me from our kiss, hurts my soul. He looks so… torn up inside. So I won’t ask now. I don’t want to ruin this moment with him… because right now, being here with him, is the most perfect moment of my life.
Present Day
Mina: Seventeen Years Old
July
I’m in the kitchen making some chocolate chip banana bread, when the sound of an approaching motorbike catches my attention. It’s nearly six in the evening at this point, and I’ve been left on my own for most of the day. After that altercation in the kitchen, both Shay and James had taken off on their bikes, and for once, I was glad to be left alone.
I’ve spent the day in turmoil, going over last night and the fight we had this morning, and every other moment I could recall with him and wondered what the hell was I going to do? What was I going to say to him? I watched out the window as the bike veered off towards the back of the house. I couldn’t tell who it was at this point, and my nerves were getting the best of me. My hands were shaking as I mixed the wet ingredients together, listening hard for the sound of footsteps on the porch.
I was just combining the wet and dry ingredients when the heavy thumping of boots bang on the steps outside, signalling that I was no longer alone. I freeze and watch the door, my heart racing as I get a flashback to the night of the attack. But when it unlocks and James steps in, wearing his cut and his usual dark shades, I let out a heavy sigh of relief.
“Thank God, it’s you.” I place a hand over my heart and laugh shakily. “Almost had a heart attack.”
James’ face is held tight and his mouth is pressed into a firm line, a look I recognize on him when he’s stressed. I can actually feel the air in the room change, shifting uncomfortably. Reaching for my phone, I shut off the music, which was playing some Death Cab for Cutie, and smile at my stepdad. “I’m making some chocolate chip banana bread.”
A small grin tugs up the corners of his mouth as he removes his glasses and shrugs off his leather cut. He hangs it carefully on the coat tree by the door and sinks heavily into a chair at the kitchen table. He looks beat, just by the way he slumps back and stretches his legs before himself. He lets his head fall backwards and closes his eyes, and releases a long, drawn out breath slowly from between his teeth.
“Want me to heat up something for you?” I ask him, tentatively, unsure of his mood.
“That’d be great, Baby Girl,” he says, his voice deep and gruff.
I stop what I’m doing and dig inside the fridge, searching for some leftovers from earlier in the week. I put a plate of honey garlic chicken and a side of cheesy broccoli into the microwave and grab a beer for him, too. James remains silent while I get his dinner, and I know my stepfather well enough by now that if he had something to say, he would simply say it. Never nag him or try to dig for updates; it just pissed him off and made him even more irritable. Most likely, he was stressed about work stuff, which was information he never shared with the family, anyway.
When his food was warmed up, I brought it over to him with his beer.
“Thanks, hon,” he said softly. Something in his voice made me pause and watch him as he continued to sit there, his eyes closed, looking like he had a huge weight on his shoulders. I never really noticed how much older he looked now. He was forty-nine years old. The grey in his dark hair was more evident, and it mixed in with his darker locks and the whisker on his chin. The corners of his eyes had deeper wrinkles. For a moment, I felt like I could see how Shay would look when he got older. James was a handsome man, and as I thought of my mother, I wondered if he was lonely… if he was missing her.
I reach down and wrap my arms around his neck from behind, and give him a hug, resting my chin on his forehead.
“What’s this all about?” he asks. Even though he sounds surprised, I can also detect the affection in his voice. His rough hands reach up and grip my forearms, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“Just… wanted to say I love ya.” I smile down at him.
James’ lips curl up into a real, genuine smile, and for a moment, his dark eyes shine just a little bit before he blinks it away. But he gives me another little squeeze. “Love you too, Baby Girl.”
I give his forehead a chaste kiss and nod to his meal. “Eat. Then take it easy. You need a night to yourself. When I’m done cleaning up the kitchen, how about we put on an old Arnie movie?” One thing that the guys and I loved was Arnold Schwarzenegger’s old films. Once in a while, we sat down and went through a list of our favourites over the course of a week. It had been a while since we last did that.
James gives my shoulder a pat. “Sorry, hon, I’m done in. I think I’m just going to eat something and then get some shut-eye.”
“No worries.” I move back to the kitchen and resume my baking project. “Another night, yeah?”
“Sounds like a plan.” He takes a long draught from the bottle and then digs into his meal. I changed my music to something a little more neutral, knowing James was not a fan of most of the stuff on my casual playlist. So I put on some Led Zeppelin as a compromise, pour the batter into a greased loaf pan, stuck it into the oven, and set the timer.
Just as I was finishing cleaning up the dishes, including James’ empty plate, a roar of another motorcycle came slowly up the drive. I knew at once that it was Shay, and my heart instantly started to pound. I also noticed James tense up as we listened to Shay’s bike approach and then dull as he rounded the back of the house. This was… weird. I’ve never seen James react that way to his son’s presence before. Even when he had been lost in a moment of violence or depression, James had never shirked away from him. I wonder if the reason for his tension tonight was because of something Shay had done… what if James had spent last night and today cleaning up after a mess he’d made? I shudder at the thought.
“Want another one before you go to bed?” I ask, gesturing at his empty beer bottle.
He stretches his arms up high over his head. “I’m alright, Baby Girl. It was just nice sitting here with ya.”
I grin at him. “We didn’t really do anything.” I want to beg him to stay. The last thing I want is to be alone with Shay right now.
He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. When you get older and have kids of your own, you’ll learn to cherish every moment.”
Rolling my eyes at him, I fake bemoan, “Oh my God, you are so lame.”
He laughs lightly. “Sorry, Mina, your dear old stepdad loves ya. You’ve always been a good girl. A good head on your shoulders. None of my grey hairs are from anything you’ve done.”
I want to laugh at that, I really do, but I feel a little bit of resentment at the thought. Again, being called a ‘good girl’… it made me cringe. Yeah, I stayed home and did my homework and was at their beck and call. But really, it hadn’t been by choice. I had been forced to by him and Shay. But I didn’t want to burst his sudden happy mood. So I just shrug my shoulders and move over to the oven as the timer starts going off.