Page 56 of Known By You
I narrowed my eyes, but kept my gaze on my food. As usual, the chicken chimichanga was illogically good, even in the face of this nonsense set up. I would miss this when I left.
“Yes. That’s the building where you guys were talking to some of my coworkers earlier.” Kenny’s voice had a twinge of… something in it. Curiosity?
Even now, he was leading with being curious about why they were here and clearly pretending not to know where he worked despite having been there hours ago. If it were me, I’d be leading with flame-throwing.
“Oh, that’s right, of course, silly me.” Mandee giggled and set a hand on her husband’s for a brief second, then removed it. “Seems like a very nice place.”
“Must get paid more than you did working for the government,” Glen Jr. said before shoving an entire hard-shell taco into his mouth.
His father grunted as though to second his brother’s comment, and Mandee chuckled. “Well, he must. That car he’s driving is certainly an upgrade from what he left town in.”
The dread that’d been building weighed heavy in my stomach. I wanted to take Kenny by the hand and lead him out of here before it got any worse because I could see where this was going, but he didn’t look shaken at all.
“You mean my nineteen ninety-eight Toyota Corolla I worked three years to afford? Yes, I did upgrade.” He took another bite, not looking away from his mother.
Her lips spread thin. “Well, this one’s nicer.”
His truck was nice, but nothing flashy. It wasn’t giant, and it didn’t have fancy rims or leather seats. All in all, it was modest, but very nice. Nicer than the car they’d all piled into, a beaten-up Chevrolet Blazer I’d guess was made at least twenty years ago.
“You got any sense you should give back to your family a bit? Maybe pay it forward for us giving you your start in life?”
I had to hand it to him. Glen Junior was just begging to get his ass kicked, and I would proudly take that job pro bono.
When Kenny didn’t respond, his father spoke for the first time.
“You’ve always been a poor excuse for a man. An ungrateful little—” he swore, his foul mouth pulling into a sneer. “Least you could do is deign to step down off your high horse and help your people.”
And that’s when I dropped my fork, tossed my napkin on the table, and stood.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Kenny
Everything happened in the span of a few seconds.
Liz was standing, her hand on my arm. My brother and mother also stood, and my father leaned back, arms crossed, expression full of judgment and, if I wasn’t projecting, hatred.
“Why don’t you sit your skinny ass back down and let’s see what baby Ken has to say. I’m not even sure why you’re here to begin with,” Glen Jr. said, pointing a greasy finger toward Liz.
That had me rising to my feet. “Now, now. No name calling. Plus I happen to think Liz’s ass is absolute perfection.”
No lies, plus I wasn’t about to get riled up just because he was. He’d always had a hair-trigger temper and my ability tonotrespond almost always made him worse.
So maybe I was leaning into that a bit.
“You’ve been living like a king and can’t bring yourself to help us? We’re not asking for a handout, we’re just?—”
“You literally just did,” Liz said through gritted teeth.
“You’ve always been ungrateful. Leaving us behind with nothing while you ran off to do whatever you wanted. Leaving your pregnant fiancée behind like the trash you are. Abandoning the people who gave you life, who raised you…” My mom shook her head like she couldn’t believe I’d betrayed them so thoroughly, eyes welling with tears.
I’d never been so deeply grateful for the therapy I’d done until this moment. Historically, this interaction would’ve destroyed me. I could feel my insides crumbling as it was, little pillars of confidence and hope and determination collapsing in on themselves.
But I didn’t have to stand here and take this. We could just leave. I was long past trying to make them see my perspective or to respect the choices I’d made. They’d made it clear time and again they never would.
I reached for Liz’s hand, and she clasped it, but when I tugged, she stood firm. When I looked at her face, she was practically breathing fire.
“I have never met a more pathetic group of people in my life,” she said, her voice so low and crisp it sounded almost violent in its razor sharpness.
