Love In Actuality

9: Aaron

 

I pulled up to the address Kyree gave me and blinked. This place…was

the very definition of a shack.  The windows were emancipated and the driveway

was gravel. There was no garage, and the house itself had chipping paint. This

was not a home. No wonder she had said yes to me- probably never been to a

fancy restaurant. Oh, God. What if she didn’t dress well enough? I couldn’t very

well take her to Exquisite looking crappy. 

A curtain twitched and I caught a glimpse of a woman’s face. It was

wrinkly and uninhibited, the face of an alcohol addict.  I bet she had the body of

one, too. Scrawny. The kind of person who saw in rehab centers. 

So now that I had been spotted, I had to get out. Hearing the gravel

crunch under my feet was painful as all get-out. I felt embarrassed that my family

had so much money when these people had so little. I rang the doorbell, but

when I didn’t hear an echo from the inside, knocked. The lady from the window

opened it up cautiously. “What’s your name, boy?”  

“Aaron. I’m here for Kyree?”

“Oh, that girl. Don’t you bother, boy. She ain’t even worth your time.

Selfish gal, let me tell you. Doesn’t know a thing about respectin’ her au-“

She was cut off by Kyree, who gently moved her out of the way and

opened the door wider. “Elle, quit it. You’re hung-over. Go lay down.“

“See? Ya see that? Can’t even call me Auntie Elle. Just Elle. And I ain’t

hungover, girl, you just don’t like me sayin’ da truth ‘bout you.”  Then she

wandered around a bit before finally dropping down on the couch in the room

directly off the hallway. I got a clear view of the mess  in there and the many

bottles of liquor splayed across the floor. Kyree stepped into my line of vision,

and I looked at her for the first time that night. 

I was only capable of one syllable.