Page 69 of Lost on Ice
The door opens within moments and we’re face-to-face with my mom. Instantly, I feel uncomfortable again. She’s a petite woman with a bob of brown hair the same shade as mine, but green eyes instead of blue — two small glaring emeralds.
Mom stares up at me, not smiling, and sighs. “Finally. I was starting to think you wouldn’t show. Come in.”
She doesn’t even acknowledge Abbie and turns to go back into the house. Abbie and I exchange a glance before we cross the threshold.
We follow Mom down the hall to the kitchen, a large space with white cabinets and a large, gas-burning stove and oven. A giant island sits in the middle of the room and has different ingredients and dishes spread out across it.
Mom points to a cutting board with potatoes piled in a bowl next to it.
“Start chopping those,” she says. “It’ll just be the four of us tonight. Ben and David have an away basketball game, and Valerie and Georgie are spending the night at friends’ houses.”
I don’t bother to ask if any of them even know I’m here tonight. Kevin doesn’t like them to be around me — I think he’s jealous of how involved I was in their childhoods, and he doesn’t want them to think of me as a positive male role-model over him.
I’m actually pretty pissed. She didn’t even say hello to Abbie, what the hell? But Abbie — while she does look stunned — pushes me forward. Sighing, I pick up the knife and start chopping potatoes.
“Anything I can help with, Mrs. Williams?” Abbie asks.
Mom looks up at her with pursed lips, acting as if she hadn’t noticed Abbie was even here until this moment.
“You could toss the salad, I suppose,” Mom says. “I’d think even one of Jake’s girls is capable of that much.”
I shoot Mom a glare. “Be nice. Abbie isn’t just some girl, Mom.”
Waving her hand dismissively, Mom turns to the stove and the sauce she has cooking. “Whatever you say.”
I grit my teeth and struggle to keep my temper in check. We just have to get through dinner. That’s all.
I can make it through dinner.
We continue to work in tense silence, helping Mom prepare the meal. Abbie stays close to my side and I can sense how upset she’s getting observing my interactions with Mom. She’s trying not to show it, though; she swings her hips into me at one point and smiles, trying to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work, but I appreciate it.
Things only get more awkward when my stepdad arrives home. From the second that Kevin lumbers in, the spite he carries everywhere with him is all-too-visible. Kevin is about as tall as me, with thick gray hair and golden brown eyes. He thinks he’s hot shit and can’t seem to pass up a chance to remind me that I’m not really his son.
He peers at Abbie, then me, and huffs loudly.
“Glad to see you could make time for us,” he says in a biting tone. “Pretty disrespectful of your mother to wait so long to see you.”
“Hello to you too, Kevin,” I spit out as I collect plates and silverware to take to the dining room.
He moves past me and Abbie to give my mom a kiss.
“Hi, honey,” she says, granting him a bright, genuine smile. “How was your day?”
“Exhausting,” he tells her. “Where are the kids?”
“Ball games and sleepovers.”
And right fucking here in front of you.
Turning, I walk out of the kitchen to the dining room, Abbie close behind me.
“Are you okay?” she asks in a soft voice as we start to set the table.
“I’m fine.” I force a half-smile to try and ease her mind. “Really, I’m used to it.”
She furrows her brow and shoots a glare toward the kitchen door.
“Well I’m not,” she hisses. “They’re being assholes.”
