Page 34 of The Biker and the Loner
Once I’m done abusing my steering wheel, I back out of the driveway and screech the hell out of Opal Meadows.
Chapter 7
Ley
The sun isdozing by the time I get home. Kathy will be suspicious. I usually try to be home before three each day so I'm not out long enough for her to miss me. It's becoming more and more exhausting, having to put her feelings and needs ahead of my own, not being able to live however I want to live.
An aromatic scent of mixed spices and melted butter hits me when I enter the house. Is she…cooking? Unbelievable. Kathy hasn’t held a spatula in years. I’m the one who does everything, while she drinks, smokes pot, pops antidepressants, and ghosts around.
I find her in the kitchen, stirring something in a saucepan, wearing just a red bra and some silken lounge shorts. The woman has a wickedly amazing body for her age. She’s vain enough to put some effort into maintaining her beauty and physique, but not enough to show it off to anyone but herself…and me.
Her best moods are after her long leisure walks on the treadmill; there’s a two-hour grace period where she becomes the old Kathy again, the Kathy I love, before the endorphins from her walk slowly dissipate.
"You're cooking," I say, stating the obvious as I set my handbag and keys down on the island. Seeing her standing over the stove has me thrown. Not that she doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s a consummate cook. I attribute all my culinary skills to her. Papà was great at traditional dishes, but Kathy used to be the MVP in the kitchen. I miss that. I missher. Therealher.
She doesn't look at me when she replies, "Well, youhavebeen gone all day. I had no choice."
"Sorry. Kendra needed my help with something."
Kendrais the one name I can use in fibs for her to believe me. We’d rented out the pool house to Kendra after a traumatic break-in incident at her apartment. With Kendra’s incident hitting too close to home for me—my mom losing her life in a break-in—I’d offered Kendra a safer home, peace of mind, and didn’t care what Kathy had to say about it.
In the end, Kathy ended up liking Kendra. Their interactions were few and far between, and mostly surrounded marijuana and music, but it was enough for Kathy to “trust” me with her.
"Oh, she's back?" she asks.
Crap.I forgot that I’d told her Kendra was traveling with Alec. "Um, yeah. Just for a few days. Family emergency."
She looks up at me then with those dead, empty eyes, her slightly raised brow letting me know she doesn't believe me.
"What's for dinner?" I ask in a lame attempt to deflect.
"Spicy shrimp masala." She switches off the stove and turns her back to me. "Go set the table, baby. Let's eat."
Later that night, I wake with a parched throat and trek downstairs for something to drink. I'm surprised to find Kathy seated at the kitchen island nursing a glass of wine. She looks up when she hears me approach. Her eyes are red, puffy, and wet.
Dear God. What now?
I pretend not to notice as I go to the fridge and get out a bottle of sugar-free fruit juice. "Hey."
She doesn't answer.
Grabbing a glass from the dish-drainer, I pour some juice and drink it all in one go. After I’ve returned the bottle back into the fridge and placed the empty glass in the sink, I tell her, "Put the wine down, Mom. Come get some sleep."
"I cannot. I had a nightmare."
On a sigh, I walk over to the stool next to hers. "What about?"
Her tone is accusatory when she answers, "You left me."
"Mom, I'm righthere. It was just a dream."
Worrying her bottom lip, she looks down into her glass of wine. "Are you having sex, Leyana?"
"No."
I'm twenty-five. I don't owe her an answer. And yet I do.
She looks up then, tilting her head to the side. "Are you lying to me?"
