Bet Me Something (Something Series Book 3) (34 page)

BOOK: Bet Me Something (Something Series Book 3)
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***

Dinner with my
parents was a quiet affair, and unfortunately, manners dictated that I not ruin
the meal with my agenda. So when my father started talking before it was over,
I was surprised.

“McKenzie, your
mother and I have something we need to speak with you about.” He sounded
resigned, as if he was about to fire an employee and was trying to let me down
easy.

I glanced over
toward my mom’s pained face and realized quickly that my dad was going to do
most of the talking.

“There’s really
no good way to say this: Your mother and I are separating.”

My eyes widened.
Although he’d hinted that things weren’t going well in our last phone
conversation, I was still stunned. My mother sat there quietly, the only
evidence of her discomfort was the slight flush creeping up her neck.

“As in
divorcing?”

He nodded,
barely looking at my mom. “Virginia law requires we’re separated for one year
before we can file, but yes, that’s ultimately what it means.”

My mother
finally broke her silence. “The house, of course, remains with me, and you can
live here for at least the first year of grad school. I spoke to Cecilia
Bennett from church, and she said her husband commutes into Georgetown daily in
a van pool that has room for one more.”

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Wasn’t this the point where most parents would tell their kids that they still
loved them despite the split? But nope, not my mom. She went straight into
logistics. I could only hope it was her coping mechanism. “Can we back up a
minute? Have you told Brian or Ben?”

My mother
sighed. “Ben knows because I told Rebecca. Brian isn’t talking to me after he
told me he got engaged, and I voiced my opinion on the matter.”

Huh, well, that
was news. I hadn’t known Brian and Mom weren’t speaking.

“I plan on telling
Brian this weekend,” my dad inserted. He might not be my brother’s biological
father but, he’d been in Brian’s life for the last twenty-three years and
obviously had affection for him.

“Your property
manager told me you moved out and turned in the keys. The next order of
business will be getting your things relocated out here,” my mom went on,
ignoring the talk of divorce or my feelings on the matter.

Only a few weeks
ago, I would’ve swallowed it down, figuring now certainly wasn’t the time to
bring up anything that might upset her further, but I didn’t have it in me any
more to perpetuate the lie. “I’m not moving home.”

“We’ll have to
figure out if it’s better to ship your car or sell it out there and just get
you another one.”

Unbelievable.
She continued to purposefully ignore what I had to say. This time I said it
louder. “I’m not moving home, Mother.”

She finally
looked up. “How can you say that, knowing your father is leaving and I’ll be all
alone?”

Realization
dawned that her panic this entire time to have me come home was because of the
impending divorce. My features softened, as did my tone. “I’m sorry, and I’m
sad that you’re splitting up, but it doesn’t change my decision.”

“We won’t fund
you living out in LA, McKenzie.” Her tone was sharp even if her eyes were
watery.

My father cut
in. “You may not, but I certainly would. Matter of fact, I offered. But, she’s
already turned me down, intending to do it on her own.”

“You told her
about us already?” she asked, turning toward him and clearly upset.

“No. I simply
stated that we’re not on the same page when it came to cutting her off. She
will remain on my medical insurance and cell phone plan. Then, if she needs any
other financial assistance, she can ask me directly.”

Her lips pressed
together in a firm, irritated line. “I see. What’s your grand plan, then,
McKenzie?”

God, the tension
was almost unbearable, but I was already taking the on-ramp to independence—might
as well press on the gas pedal.

“I auditioned
yesterday for a record label. If I’m chosen, I would be a backup singer for a
big-name artist and may have the opportunity to tour with them. Of course, I’d
have to decide if that’s what I want to do.” At the very least, I’d like to
find out who I’d be singing with, the schedule, and what it paid.

“Is there
anything you have managed to make up your mind about?”

I bristled.
“Yes. I’m not moving home, I’m not attending business school, and most of all,
I’m not going to feel guilty for no longer wanting what you do.”

“You have no
plan, no money, and absolutely no idea what you’re doing with your future.”

“I know, and I’m
okay with that. I have plenty of options, and I’m twenty-two, so if I don’t
like the first few, I’ll try some others.”

“What options? A
backup singer gig that may or may not happen?”

“I didn’t come
here to argue with you. I love you both, and I feel terrible about the timing,
but I’m leaving for Bali on Sunday night with a volunteer program to teach
English and music abroad. I’ll be gone a few weeks, and when I get back, I’ll decide
what I want to do next.”

I’d never
witnessed an occasion where my mother appeared this shocked. Even my father
seemed astonished.

“How did this
come about?” my dad asked.

I recapped my
volunteer work at the children’s hospital and the interest in travel. My mom
was listening but said nothing.

“I’m glad Mark
vetted it, and it sounds like a great opportunity.”

My mother glared
at him. “Sounds like an excuse to avoid real responsibility, not to mention a
way to avoid ever having a career or make good money.”

I was absolutely
done fighting with her and trying to do so respectfully when it was clear she
wasn’t giving me the same courtesy. I scooted my chair back abruptly, the angry
sound unfamiliar in this dining room, and stood up to address her. “Money and career
don’t motivate me. I want to be happy in what I’m doing, and volunteering with
kids gives me that. You don’t have to agree with my decisions, Mom, or
understand what inspires me, but it would be nice if you’d be supportive. And
if you can’t manage that, then we have nothing left to say. I won’t be held
hostage to the worry I’m going to disappoint you any longer. Life is too
short.”

She clenched her
jaw, stood up, and left the room.

My father smiled
sympathetically. “She’ll come around eventually, kiddo. In the meantime, let’s
clear the dishes, then go have a drink and watch the baseball game on TV.”

***

The next
morning, despite having a slight hangover due to drinking scotch with my dad
the night before, I donned my running attire and set out for a jog. I wasn’t
one hundred percent yet, but my ankle was certainly starting to feel better as
I eased back into my running routine with the help of a good brace.

I wondered what
I’d do about staying in the house. Obviously, I could continue to do so, but the
tension this morning when I’d simply entered the kitchen with my mother already
there was unbearable. She wasn’t speaking to me at all. Brian had texted me
this morning offering to pay for a hotel room or there was always the option of
calling up one of my high school friends and ask to stay with them. But in the
end, it would be easiest if I sucked it up and ignored my mother the way my
father seemed to be doing.

Passing the
Singer estate on my way back, I smiled at Patricia, Colby and Josh’s Mom, who was
out getting the morning paper at the end of her driveway.

“Hi, honey. How
are you?” she greeted.

As I took out my
earbuds, I felt genuinely happy to see her. She’d always been kind to me over
the years, and it made me feel closer to Colby to talk to his mom. “I’m good.”
I protested when she went to hug me, “Oh, no, I’m sweaty.”

She did it
anyhow. “As if I care, you gorgeous girl. Everything all right?”

I’d never had
the sort of mom who could ask that simple question and make you want to bare
your soul to her. Have her hold you in an embrace and simply cry on her
shoulder. Mrs. Singer was that type of mom, but considering most of my tears
were over her son, I shrugged it off.

“Yeah, it’s all
good. Are you looking forward to Sunday?”

She beamed. “I’m
biased, but I think my granddaughter is about the most precious thing on the
planet.” Her eyes assessed me. “You sure everything is okay at home?”

I realized she
might already know about my parent’s separation and felt my smile slip. “It’s
fine.”

 “Why don’t you
come in for a few minutes? I put on some coffee, and it would be nice to catch
up.”

“I should
probably get back to shower and—”

She wasn’t
taking no for an answer. “Nonsense. Come on. It gets lonely sometimes in that
big old house.”

I’d heard she
was dating someone after having been widowed for over ten years, but according
to Colby, the man traveled quite a bit for business and obviously wasn’t here
now. “All right, maybe for a few minutes.”

After I followed
her into her beautiful home, she had me take a seat on the kitchen island stool
and disappeared for a moment before returning with a sweatshirt in her hands.
“Here, my dear, put this on so you don’t catch a chill with the AC in the house
after being outside sweating.”

“Thank you,” I
murmured, putting on the large hoodie.

“That was
Colby’s when he was in high school and played soccer.”

I had to bite my
lip from crying over a stupid sweatshirt because I missed him like crazy.

Sensing my
distress, she sat down beside me. “I’ve known you your whole life, McKenzie,
and I’ve never seen you look sad a day in it. Now, what’s going on?”

Taking a deep
breath, I figured I could be at least half honest with her about what was
weighing me down. “My parents are getting divorced. Separated for now, but in a
year, divorced. And my mother is upset because I won’t move home to be with
her. I feel guilty because she’s going to be all alone but wish she’d
understand that I can’t live my life for her. My dad is staying on the other
side of the house for now, my mom won’t talk to me, and I don’t think I can
stay in that house another minute.” How was that for a fire-hose response?

Her eyes showed
sympathy before she gathered me in for a hug. “Then, it’s settled. You can stay
here.”

“What?”

“I have plenty
of bedrooms.” She got up and poured me a glass of water.

“Uh, won’t your
family be coming in?”

She smiled.
“Josh, Haylee, and Abigail come in tomorrow morning and Colby probably not
until Sunday, knowing him. But it doesn’t matter; you’re welcome to stay when
they’re here, too.”

“Maybe just for
tonight if that’s okay?” I couldn’t remain here once everyone came in. It would
be too weird given the circumstances, but one night away from the tension
sounded wonderful.

“Good it’s
settled. Why don’t you go pack your things and bring them over? If you have
stuff to do today, you can use any one of the cars. We could also have dinner
together tonight if you don’t have other plans.”

“Are you sure
this doesn’t put you in an awkward position with my mom?” I’d probably never
understand what kept them friends over the years with them being complete
opposites, but I certainly didn’t want to cause a rift.

“You let me
worry about that.”

“Thank you.”

“No need to
thank me. You’re like family.”

***

My dad seemed
relieved when I told him I was staying the night with a friend, insisting I’d
have a better time that way given the current tension in the house. My mother
was nowhere to be found, which made the decision whether to tell her a moot
point.

The fact that
Mrs. Singer put me in Colby’s bedroom was either a cruel cosmic joke or a weird
coincidence.

“Two of the
guest rooms are in disarray, and the other two down the hall I have slated for
Josh, Haylee, and Abigail, so use this one tonight.”

It was ironic
that when I decided to take a nap later, my phone rang with Colby’s number
flashing up.

“Hello,” I
answered, trying not to sound too anxious.

“Hey, it’s me.”

I closed my
eyes, having missed the sound of his voice.
“I take it you got my
rambling message?”

“Yeah, I sure
did.” There was humor in his voice.

“So are we okay
for the baptism the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course.
I obviously wouldn’t miss it, but I don’t want you to, either. As you said, we
were friends before.”

The sex. That’s
how that sentence ended in my mind, as well as in my voicemail. “Yes, we were.”

“How, uh, were
things with your mother?”

“As expected. At
least I figured out why she was adamant to have me move home.”

“Why’s that?”

“She and my
father are getting divorced.”

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