Shutout

Chapter 7 - Kane

I'm in the middle of doing research when my phone rings. I know who it is without fail as she always calls at this time of the day on Thursdays when she has her lunch. 

"Hi, Mom."

"Hi, Kane," Mom has one of those voices that sounds the same in person and over the phone, "What have you been up to lately?"

I push away my laptop and rub my eyes from underneath my glasses. I've only been working for a few hours this morning, but my neck already hurts, and my eyes slightly burn from the blue light. 

"I'm doing some research for an article. I've been trying new recipes. Not much, I don't do much. What are you having for lunch?"

I've been trying a new gyro recipe for Logan for some time. I'm not sure what kind of food he looks or doesn't like, though I should ask him about it, so I've been scrambling to find new things to cook for us. Right now, he's in fucking Cabo, so he doesn't get to try my experimentation. 

"Last night, we had stuffed bell peppers on the grill, so I'm having the leftovers for lunch today. They were great last night, but now they feel soggy. But I'll eat it anyway."

My mom was one of the people who helped teach me how to cook when I was first using it for memory practice and occupational therapy. She has always been a good cook, but the rough thing is that she's also a picky eater, so by eating her food, I've developed the same pickiness. 

"Nice. Yeah, I'm also going to have leftovers for lunch; I made macaroni and watermelon for dinner last night."

"Oh, watermelon sounds amazing right now. Anyway, how are you doing?" 

How are you holding up, Kane, all by yourself with your ill brain and frail body? She doesn't say it, and she obviously means no ill will about it, but I know these phone calls are to make sure I haven't had a seizure and cracked my skull on the counter or something. I know that this is normal mom worries for their kid that is obviously not always okay, but I'll never get used to it.

"Not bad. I've been staying in the air conditioning most of the time, so I haven't had a seizure this week." The last one I had was the one I had shortly after Logan left our last dinner together, the heat of the outdoors and the grill having finally caught up to me.

"Oh, good! Yeah, make sure to stay cool and call your doctor if you are having more than you usually do in the summer. The heat has been awfully bad this summer, I feel, and even having fans on doesn't kill it."

"That's global warming for you," I lean back in my desk chair, spinning slightly. Harold is sitting on a pile of papers next to my laptop, giving me a silent death stare to stop making noise, "Anyway, how are you and Kent?"

"Oh, we're good. Our garden is really starting to pop up, so that's exciting. I try to get out there and weed and whatnot but sometimes it's too hot. We're getting ready for our trip out to Miley next week."

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot that you're going to Chicago next week. I haven't talked to Miley in a while. Is she excited or stressed about you guys coming?"

"Uh! Of course, she's excited, Kane! She's the one who invited us!"

I can't help but smirk as I spin in my chair. Miley is definitely stressed about the parents coming to visit her. She may have been the one to first invite them, but it's all fun and games until they're actually taking time off from work and packing the car with walking shoes. 

Miley was nearly twelve years younger than me. She's the biological daughter of my mom and Kent, but she looked creepily like our grandma on Mom's side if you ask me. She has one more year at the University of Illinois in Chicago, where she's trying to steal my limelight and is getting a degree in journalism and communications. All I'm saying is she better not try to become a freelance journalist like me because that's not fair. I have enough competition out here.