52. CODY

CODY

2017

“Cut those pieces a little smaller, Sawyer.” Mama pointed to the cutting board and picked out a small piece of pepper. “Like this size,” she instructed him. I sat at the island trying to concentrate on my Biology homework as Silas ran through my notes, and Mama taught the King brothers how to make lasagna.

“Fix that, and then you’re done,” Silas said, pointing to a sentence. I tore my eyes away from the commotion in the kitchen.

Arlo and Nicholas pushed back and forth for dominance over the steaming pot of meat sauce that Mama had started before she turned her attention to mixing up ricotta cheese.

“Hey, don’t.” Nicholas shoved Arlo, causing him to lose his balance. A splash of sauce painted the kitchen walls.

“Boys, if you can’t figure out how to share, I’ll make you go do laundry,” Mama said without looking up from her bowl. A smile formed on her face as the two of them groaned and started behaving.

Laundry day after a long week of practice was a chore none of them ever wanted to do. When we’d moved to Rhode Island, I hadn’t expected to be thrown into such strange dynamics.

The King brothers and Silas seemed to have their own little dysfunctional relationship. Arlo was in his first year of University, his brother Nicholas was a year ahead, and then Sawyer was two years older and coming to the end of his schooling. They had an older brother Luc, who I had only met once and who never really came around much after he graduated.

Silas landed somewhere in the middle. I’m pretty sure he was the same age as Nicholas but they couldn’t be more different. Silas was undergoing intense medical schooling to become a doctor. They all played for the Hornets baseball team and lived under the roof of the Nest.

It was a strange adjustment when Mama started spending more time here, helping them out with basic tasks. She had become the Hornets' house mother, and no one seemed to question it. For a little while, here and there, I forgot that I was missing a piece of myself.

Silas had offered to tutor me in Biology, but it wasn’t the same as having Clementine there to help me with my notes. He was always grumpy and tired from his long hours and the endless practices my Dad had them run. There were no funny jokes, wiggled fingers, or escape plans. Just scowls and polite encouragement.

“Is Dad coming for dinner?” I asked Mama as I closed my binder and finished with my work. She inhaled slowly, looked up from her bowl, and shook her head.

“We’ll bring him leftovers.” She winked at me.

I couldn’t help but think that maybe it was my fault he never came for dinner. Lately, the two of us had been at each other's throats more often than not. I was forced to live in a state miles away from the only person who ever saw me for me. At least Dad had Mama. I had nothing, not without Clementine.

He wanted me to stop being foolish, focus on the last few months of High School, and finish my application for Harbor… He had found a few applications for school in Texas and then told me that my grades would never be good enough, so the point was moot.

“Yeah, whatever. Keep letting him hole up in that office. You know, the more you cater to his shitty behavior, the worse he’ll get.”

“Bringing him dinner isn’t going to make anything worse.” She laughed at me, which only enraged me more.

“He can’t even be bothered to come home half the time, so you moved Sunday dinners into this fucking frat house so that maybe, just maybe, he’d take the time out of his exhausting day training wannabe baseball stars to spend some time with us?” I raised my voice, and I knew everyone in the kitchen had stopped to watch my outburst, but it was too late to reel myself in.

“Watch your language with me.” She scowled.

“He’s too busy chasing a dead dream to love us anymore, Mama. Stop making excuses for him,” I argued.

“Cael Cody.” Mama hissed at me.

I shook my head and pushed away from the island, almost knocking the stool over. I wandered out to the front porch, which was quiet for a few minutes before the sound of footsteps interrupted what little peace I found.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on her.” Arlo’s voice came from behind me as he lowered to the porch beside me. I turned to look at him and for a moment, wanted nothing more than to tell him off, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking out at the gray sky that hung over the Nest.

“I don’t need some bullshit talk about how to treat my parents. Thanks though,” I grumbled.

“You really are a brat, you know that?” Arlo said. “You’ve got two parents that give a shit about you, and all you wanna do is fight back against them?”

“You don’t know me or my parents, King. Not really.” I scoffed. “How about you go back in and play family with her? That’s all this is. A fucking endless sitcom.”

Arlo stared at me for a moment, his heavy brows paired with dark eyes that felt like they were burning holes through me.

“What?” I snapped when he didn’t answer.

“I know they don’t beat you. They don’t punish you. I’ve never met a mother so patient and filled with love, and you just walk all over her.” Arlo slapped me with his judgment. “Maybe your Dad can’t figure out how to manage work and his family, but that’s not your Mom’s fault.”

“She lets him get away with it,” I argued.

“God damn it, kid, you’re like a cornered alley cat,” he growled. “Maybe she’s choosing to let the fight go because it makes your Dad happy, and maybe she’s too busy fighting you at every corner to have the energy to fight your Dad.” Arlo offered, and I turned to look at him in defeat.

“Wow, thank you for your sage advice,” I said, pushing off the step. “Mind your business, Arlo.”

“Pick and choose your battles, Cael,” he said, “but make sure whatever battle you decide to fight, it’s worth it.”