Kinsley: Thanksgiving part 2

"Happy Thanksgiving," my dad said cheerfully.  "Isn't it nice that your brother was able to join us, Kinsley?"

"Sure," I replied, too shocked to come up with a better answer.  I stared at Kaleb.  I hadn't seen or talked to my brother in almost 17 years. He looked different than I would have expected.  Of course, the last time I saw him, he was a teenager in a court room in gray jail clothes and handcuffs.  I hadn't spent a whole lot of time thinking about what he'd look like now, but when I had, I certainly hadn't imagined him clean cut and in a button-down shirt.

Next to me, Damien stepped forward and held out his hand.  Kaleb stood and shook it.  "I'm Damien, Kinsley's boyfriend," he said.

"Kaleb, Kinsley's brother," he replied.  "It's really nice to meet you."  I realized then that Damien and Kaleb were roughly the same age, and for some reason that thought made me feel a little nauseated.  I watched as Damien and Kaleb sized each other up and I suddenly felt a wave of anxiety.

"Damien," my dad said suddenly.  "There's something I'd like to show you."  Damien glanced at me, but I was too busy watching my brother, so he headed out of the living room with my dad.

"I'd better check the turkey," Christina said.  She stood and walked towards the kitchen.  Alone with my brother was the last thing I wanted to be right now, so I spun and walked towards the back door, shoving my arm back into my coat sleeve.

"Please tell Damien that I'm out back for a couple minutes if he comes back before I'm in," I requested politely as I passed Christina.  I didn't wait for a response, just went out the back door, down the steps, and all the way to the end of the backyard.  I felt suddenly and inexplicably furious that this was not the yard of the house I grew up in.

I stopped at the back edge of the property and leaned up against a tree, facing away from the house.  Their house was on the very edge of the city on a little over an acre, and the yard was long and narrow.  I felt safe this far from the house.  I pressed my cheek to the rough bark of the tree and took a deep, shaky breath, staring out into the growing darkness.

After several minutes, I heard footsteps approaching.  I figured there was a 50-50 chance if it was Damien or Kaleb, and I didn't turn around.

"Hey Kinsy-bug," Kaleb said softly.

"You don't get to call me that anymore," I replied coldly, without turning around.

He chuckled softly.  "Does anyone?"  I didn't answer, choosing to continue facing away from him.  "I hear you're a CPA," he tried.

"You heard correctly," I said snottily.

"And dad says your boyfriend is a cop?"

"He's a detective," I corrected him.  I knew I was being unreasonable, but I didn't care.  Not even a little bit.

"Look, Kins, I know you're mad at me--"

"You think I'm mad at you?" I snapped, finally whirling around to face him.  "I'm not mad.  Kaleb, I am fucking furious at you!"

"I know," he replied calmly.  He shoved his hands in his pockets and returned my stare, though his was softer, not angry.

"No!" I growled, fury bubbling up inside me.  Fury, and something else.  Something that I couldn't quite put my finger on.  Hurt?  Disappointment?  Whatever it was, I shoved it down and focused on my anger.  Anger kept my head in the game.  "No, you don't know.  You don't have any idea.  You left me.  You fucking left me, Kaleb!  You were the only one that ever gave a shit about me, and you abandoned me, goddamnit!  You left me alone with them, and you never came back."  I was yelling now, and I didn't even bother trying to moderate my volume or tone.

I was so busy yelling at Kaleb that I didn't notice Damien approaching until he appeared next to me.  "Kinsley, is everything alright?" he asked me.  He had his calm voice on, his detective voice.

"Yeah," Kaleb started.  "We're just--"

"I wasn't asking you," Damien said, cutting him off.  He said it softly and matter-of-factly.  "Kinsley?"

"No," I replied, but I wasn't talking to Damien.  I was looking directly at Kaleb.  "It's not okay.  No one took care of me after you left.  I was a 10-year-old kid that had to be a grown up, and I knew nothing about being a grown up!"

Kaleb's expression softened and he took a step towards me.  Damien shifted slightly, a silent warning to Kaleb to stay put.  Kaleb stopped in his tracks.  "I know, Kinsley," he said softly.  "But I wasn't supposed to be the one that had to take care of you."  I didn't say anything.  "It wasn't fair to me, and it wasn't fair to you.  It wasn't my job, but I did the best I could until I couldn't anymore."

I didn't speak, because I knew he was right.  I knew he was right and I knew I was being unfair.  I couldn't admit that right now, but I bit my lip and quietly said, "Okay."  I looked off over his shoulder when I said it, but when I returned my eyes to Kaleb's face, I could tell he knew what was under the dismissive-sounding word.

"Okay," he agreed.  I smiled a little, and Kaleb grinned back.

Damien looked really confused by the sudden release of tension, but wrapped his arm around my shoulder as I began to walk back towards the house.

"Hey Kinsley?" Kaleb said.  I stopped and turned.  "Who taught you how to drive?"

I smiled sadly at his random question.  "My boyfriend," I answered.

He raised one eyebrow.  "You were dumb enough at 16 to let a teenage boy teach you how to drive?"

"No," I replied simply.

Understanding dawned on his face as he realized that meant my boyfriend had been at least 20.  He'd been 22, but I wasn't going to tell him that.  "I would have taught you," he said, grimacing. "You know, if I'd been around."

"I know," I assured him.  Then I turned again and continued towards the house.  Damien walked with me, but Kaleb stayed put, staring out into the darkness.

I had barely stepped in the door when my dad said, "We're waiting for you, are you done with your little tantrum?"

I felt my eyes get wide.  "My...little tantrum?" I echoed.  "My little tantrum because my brother, whom I haven't seen or heard from in 17 years was randomly here?  I feel like that's something that deserves a little warning.  I was a little flustered."

My dad sighed.  "At some point you need to grow up and start acting like an adult, Kinsley."

Next to me, Damien bristled.  "Oh, fuck you," I snarled at my dad.  "I've been acting like an adult since I was 8 years old and had to do my own fucking laundry because you and my worthless pill popping mother couldn't be bothered to meet my basic needs.  I'm more of an adult than you'll ever fucking be!"

"Don't you talk to him like that in this house!" Christina snapped at me.

I snorted.  "Fuck you too, you home-wrecking whore."

"Get out!" my dad roared, standing up and kicking his chair away before taking two menacing steps towards me.  Damien quickly stepped in front of me, blocking my dad's path to me.

"I would be delighted," I replied.  I pushed past Damien and my dad, but my dad grabbed me roughly by my upper arm and yanked back, stopping me dead.  I winced at his tight grip, his fingertips digging into the tender flesh at the inside of my arm.  He was pressing so hard into my arm that he must have been compressing an artery or something, because my fingertips started to tingle within seconds.

He started to say something, but Damien interrupted him.  "Let her go," he said, his voice deadly calm.  "Take your hands off of her immediately."

"Or else what?" my dad asked flippantly, while Christina shrieked, "If you touch him, I'm calling the cops!"

Damien ignored Christina.  "Mr. McLaughlin, let go of your daughter so we can leave before anyone does something they'll regret."  His voice was so soft that Christina had to stop her wretched yipping in order to hear what he was saying.  Damien's dark gray eyes were steely and trained directly on my dad's face.

My dad laughed and let go, giving me the slightest shove forward as he did.  I wasn't ready for it, so I stumbled, but caught myself on the wall.  "As far as I'm concerned, she's not my daughter anymore.  She's all yours.  Good luck.  No returns."

I snatched my purse off the hat rack by the door and forced myself to walk calmly out of that house with my head held high.  Once we were both in my car was another story, and I pulled my knees to my chest and curled into a ball against the door.

"Are you okay?" Damien asked as he started the car.  "Physically, I mean."

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied.  I snuck a glance at him.  He hadn't let his poker face drop yet, but his knuckles were white on the steering wheel and his jaw was clenched tightly enough that I could see the corded muscles in his neck straining against his skin.  I wasn't in much better shape, and I shoved my hands deep into my pockets so I didn't have to watch them tremble.  Sucking in a shaky breath, I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window and shut my eyes as Damien pulled away from the curb.