Once the door clicks shut, my parents round on me.
“Tell us everything.” And so, I do. I tell them how I had been cleaning his house all day, because the plan was to stay at his place the first week with Carson. I wanted everything to be perfect for when we brought him home and Kyle’s house is nothing more than a bachelor pad. I mention how the Hawks game was on and he couldn’t be bothered to even drive me to the hospital once my water broke. I go on to explain how he all but told me to go to hell and how I walked out and drove myself to the hospital. My father is livid by the end of my story, pissed I didn’t call him to drive me. My mother is heartbroken for her youngest daughter. It’s written all over her face and now I understand it all too well. I couldn’t imagine Carson coming to me with a story similar to this one.
“Well, he’s a damn idiot. That boy doesn’t need a piece of shit like him anyways. He drinks way to fucking much and doesn’t give a shit about anything in life. Obviously.” My dad gestures around the room to prove his point. You can see the steam blowing out of my daddy’s ears.
Stupid Hawks and their stupid basketball.
“Don’t you dare list that prick’s name on the birth certificate, peanut. I won’t stand for it. He doesn’t deserve the title.” I glance at Mom, who slowly nods, as do I. He’s right, if he isn’t even going to bother to call, what’s the point?
I’ll do this all on my own. I only have a couple semesters left in my Bachelor’s degree, then I can get a teaching job at Rocky Elementary School with my sister.
“Until then, you can just stay with us. We’ll help, peanut. Don’t you worry.”
The floodgates open at that statement. Don’t you worry. But how can I not?
Chapter Two
PRESENT DAY
“C’mon, heifer. Let’s go. Tip-off is in forty-five minutes!” I hear Jennifer yell as I’m turning the lock on my small, dainty house. I just purchased it a few months ago and I’ve been working non-stop trying to get it perfect.
I refuse to have my parents feel the need to support me; they’ve worked their entire lives and aren’t exactly the top of the tier. Mom is a retired school teacher and Dad is a recently retired police chief. We were well taken care of when we were younger, but we weren’t frugal with our spending either. That’s why my home is a small, two-bedroom bungalow. It’s tiny, but spacious for me and my son, Carson.
When we moved in, I told him he could do his room in anything he wanted. I had been saving for years to get us out of our old apartment. Carson needed a yard to run and play in. This house just so happened to be perfect and the price wasn’t nearly as high as I had budgeted to spend, which left me a little room to buy us a few things we didn’t necessarily need but deserved. Carson, of course, chose a basketball-themed room. So, that’s what he got. It’s so hard for me not to deem all things basketball related forbidden in our home, but Carson doesn’t know the reason behind my hatred for the sport.
“Kelsi,” Jennifer whines from the passenger seat, drawing out my name.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” I trot down the sidewalk and toss my suitcase in the open trunk of Chrissy’s car. I run around and hop in beside Gabby in the backseat.
“Finally. Let’s go!” Chrissy, my sister, yells with her head out the window.
It probably should embarrass me that my sister is hanging from the window of a car in my new neighborhood with my elderly neighbor standing outside staring but, this is just Chrissy. She’s been this way for our entire lives.
“So, what’s the plan?” Gabby asks, not bothering to look up from her Kindle.
“Tip off is at seven, then we can just hit the bars on the strip. I’ve already checked us into the hotel so we’re good there.” Chrissy always has our traveling lined out to a T. “How’s Carson, Kels?”
I turn at the mention of my son’s name. He’s four, almost five, and he won’t let you forget it. He’s extremely energetic and at the moment completely pissed off at me because I’m attending an Atlanta Hawks game and he’s stuck at home. But, staying with his Mimi and Peepaw seemed to turn that frown upside down. Truthfully, I'm not too thrilled to be attending a game either.
“He’s good. Pissed about the game but happy to be with Mom and Dad.”
“That’s good, I know he has missed them. I wasn’t sure they’d ever return from their cruise.” She shifts the car onto the interstate and several vehicles blare their horns at her. “Oh, fuck off!” She throws her middle finger toward the back glass, as if anyone could see it through the tinted windows.
“Jesus, Chrissy!” I shout from the backseat, gripping the headrest in front of me to keep from slamming against the window. My sister has always been a horrible driver. My dad tried to teach her how to drive when she turned fifteen and gave up after five minutes of being in a car with her and paid for extra driver’s education courses just so he didn’t have to be in the same car with her. By the grace of God, she somehow managed to get her license, but I still think she flirted with the instructor because there is no way she passed with her driving skills.
“What? They were being dicks.” She laughs and shortly we all join in, acting as if we almost didn’t die from her driving abilities. I can’t complain, I never offer to drive and neither do the others, so we put ourselves in this situation each time. Which is why you’ll always find me in the backseat if the four of us go anywhere. I feel it’s safer than sitting shotgun next to her.
“Have you seen King and Prince lately? They’ve been tearing up the court.” Jen is obsessed with basketball. Follows her “lovely Hawks,”' as she calls them, on every social media platform they have. “And CalKing is so damn fine. I’d lick him if I had the opportunity.” She fans herself with her hand and we laugh. Jennifer is the most outgoing of the four of us. She has no problem telling a guy what she is thinking of them, meanwhile I can barely form words when speaking to anyone.
I, on the other hand, rarely have time to watch a TV show for myself. I’m so behind on Keeping Up with The Kardashians, I’m not even sure what season is actually airing on television right now. If I’m not with my twenty-three students, I’m home with Carson and all we ever do is watch Space Jam and Jurassic World. By the time I tuck his tiny little body in at night, it’s time to clean up supper, fold some laundry, and get our things ready for the next day. I don’t have time for myself and usually end up falling asleep in a pile of clean clothes.
“Those boys are so fine!” Chrissy shouts. My sister is similar to Jennifer.
“What are you working on over here?” I lean toward Gabby, who now has her laptop open, typing away. She has her glasses on and her hair thrown to one shoulder, so I know she’s concentrating hard.
“I’m working on my book.” She pushes the rim of her glasses back up and begins typing away again. Gabby is a romance author and has been tearing up the Kindle world lately.
“When will you have this one finished?” Gabby has released three romance novels so far and is working on her fourth. She has loved reading since we were kids. We all grew up together on the same street, attended the same college, and now all work together at Rocky Elementary, but Gabby would like to become a full-time author in the future and I think it’s what will be the best fit for her.