𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉

[Chapter 22] Good Memories

I inhale deeply, slowly opening the front door to my mom's house.
The last time I was here, I was barging in to yell at Hunter.
Now, I'm walking in after a looong shift spent wallowing in my feels—attempting to mentally prepare myself to see my mom after almost a month.
Even worse, Hunter's Jeep is parked outside again.
I think I'm gonna be sick.
"Hey, Mom?" I call out hesitantly as I shut the door behind me, taking a few tentative steps in.
No reply.
A little more walking into the living reveals Mom, leaning against the kitchen counter—wine glass in hand, filled a quarter of the way with her favorite red no doubt.
"Mom. Hi." I force a smile as I repeatedly curl my fingers against my palm and then out again. "How are you?"
She silently looks over her wine glass at me as she takes a sip.
I wait. Almost like I'm holding my breath. I already know what's coming.
I remembered as soon as I saw his Jeep in the driveway.
I forgot to tell Hunter about family dinner and no doubt, he and Mom already had that delightful conversation while I was at work.
"Well." She sets the wine glass down on the counter with a simple click but to me, it sounds like a deafening thud. "I was better when I was under the impression I'd be having dinner with my children tonight. Apparently that's not the case."
Her pointed look says everything she's not.
"I'll talk to him," I blurt out, knowing it won't make a difference but feeling the need to fix my mistake.
"Well, I thought you already did—if you remember me asking you to."
I pause, wanting to point out that she didn't even ask—she told me.
But I don't. Instead I press my lips together as hard as I can before smiling again. "I know. I'm sorry, Mom. I've just been busy with school. I'll fix it."
She folds her arms over her crisp pantsuit, not one for weekend loungewear.
So, I head for the stairs, mentally grumbling over my role in this.
Why do I feel like I'm the mom here trying to make amends between siblings?
Shouldn't it be the other way around?
Even still, I pause outside of Hunter's closed bedroom door and knock.
No reply.
I wait a second.
Knock again, louder this time.
Still nothing.
I huff in annoyance, knowing my voice is only going to further deter him from opening the door.
"Hunter, it's me. Can I come in?"
More silence—
"It's unlocked."
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise as my gaze drops to the door knob.
Is that an invitation?
Should I just open the door—?
"I said it's unlocked."
His voice is louder this time, irritated and almost sassy causing me to roll my eyes as I turn the handle and open the door.
"Hey."
"What do you want?" He wastes no time in getting to the point. "Mom send you up here?"
"No." I cross my arms. "I offered to come talk to you. She's mad at me for not telling you in the first place."
At that, he actually laughs.
And for whatever reason, it reminds me of a different time.
Times when we were younger. I was always too short to reach something and he'd always laugh, watching me try.
Not that he was that much taller or older. But he was always braver.
He was the one who would get the chair to climb on in order to get whatever it was I wanted.
Back when all we had was each other.
Back when I meant something to him.
I feel the undeniable prick of sadness swirled with nostalgia in my chest.
"I can't believe you didn't rush to tell me right away." His eyebrows are raised in genuine surprise. "Isn't passing on commands from Mom like your favorite thing to do?"
"Hunter." I exhale deeply, remembering that this is the present and my memories of a caring, protective older brother are replaced by the cold, careless guy in front of me right now. "I'm not trying to fight. Can you please just do this and make Mom happy? Please?"
"Hell no."
He sits down in his desk chair, hands casually on his lap and his head in a disinterested tilt.
"Hunter," I take on a pleading tone, stepping further into the room and shutting the door behind me. "Please."
He scoffs, clearly unimpressed with my attempts. "You should be happy I'm saying no. Now Mom can be mad at me instead of you."
"No!" I exclaim in frustration. "I don't care if Mom is mad at me."
Total lie, of course I care.
That's the only reason I'm begging him to go in the first place.
"Yes you do." He rolls his eyes. "Besides, I have plans."
I want to ask if his plans are with Lake even thought I know I can't but it doesn't matter because he answers the unasked question anyway.
"I'm spending the night at Trey's."
"Again?" I stare at him.
What I really want to ask is, 'isn't one child enough?' but I doubt that'll go over well so I keep it to myself.
"Chill. It's been a week. I wanna see my kid."
A wave of nausea washes over me at the sound of those words even leaving his mouth.
His kid.
"Totally valid," I choke out, attempting to appear unfazed.
"Y'know, I was surprised you kept your mouth shut about that. Not even a little hint or anything to Mom. She still seems completely clueless."
I massage the bridge of my nose. "Yeah well, I told you I wouldn't, I meant that. You need to tell her."
He shrugs indifferently. "I'm good not telling her actually."
"Hunter—" I stop myself, knowing it's not going to get me anywhere. "Fine. Don't tell her. But can you please just come to dinner at least? Go to Trey's house afterwards?"
He groans, clearly inconvenienced by the prospect of having to spend time with his own flesh and blood. "Fine. Whatever. Just because you didn't snitch. I'll go this one time."
"Thank you." I clap my hands before he can change his mind. "I'm gonna get ready. Don't talk to Mom til I get out."
"No problem," he mutters, pulling his phone out of his pocket and I walk back out of the room, jogging back down the stairs.
"Mom?!"
Mom is exactly where I left her, staring emotionlessly off into the void until I walk up to her.
"Hey, Hunter said yes to dinner—I'm gonna go shower then we can leave, okay? If you want."
I hurry to add the last part just in case she's completely changed her mind since I went upstairs.
All she offers is a silent nod before taking a sip of her wine and clearing her throat. "I'll be in my office."
She walks away, high heels clicking, without another word.
Good enough for me.
~
I take a quick shower, glad to be rid of the deli meat stench that always clings to my uniform after a shift.
Unfortunately my outfit choices are limited thanks to the only clothes left behind in my room being gym shorts and workout tops from over the summer.
I manage to find one skater dress—which I would never wear by choice—hence the reason it's shoved towards the very back of my closet.
Dakota picked it out on one of our many shopping trips, complained that the lilac color washed her out and so donated it to me after she lost the receipt to return it.
I go ahead and put it on, remembering why I never pick to wear it and wondering why I never just gave it away or something.
The sweetheart neckline is a little too low for me and the length in the back is a little too high.
If nothing else, at least it's keeping me from wearing a workout set.
I choose a pair of white Air Forces that have definitely seen better days and then walk out of my bedroom towards Hunter's.
I knock but the door is cracked so I just swing it open a little further so I can peek in. "Hey."
"About time. Mom left like fifteen minutes ago." Hunter says, pulling a hoodie on over his t-shirt and my jaw drops. "What?"
"Yeah. Said she'd get us a table so it'd be 'one less thing to wait on'." He shrugs his shoulders as he walks past me. "I think she was talking about you to be honest."
I scoff as I follow him down the stairs. "Seriously? I didn't even take that long."
"Don't know, don't care. You need a ride?"
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the offer. "With you?"
Hunter never wants to take me anywhere thanks to my 'backseat driving'.
Really, he just doesn't like that I actually follow the rules of the road, don't play my music at max volume or make obscene hand gestures to anyone who cuts me off.
Needless to say, he does do all of those things.
"Yeah, no shit. Obviously." He scowls as we both walk to the front door. "No commentary though."
I make a point of zipping my mouth shut and he rolls his eyes in response.
"Where are we even going?" I ask, once we're in the Jeep and I'm buckling in.
Hunter doesn't bother with the seatbelt and instead starts backing out of the driveway. "Oh, Mom didn't tell you? Our childhood favorite."
I hesitate, pondering and then crease my eyebrows in confusion. "Olive Garden?"
"Yep." He shakes his head in amusement as he floors it down the street. "Guess she's trying to recreate some good memories, huh?"
Good memories, sure.
If you block out the part after our last dinner there when a drunk man attacked our mom in the parking lot. Left Hunter and I to watch the whole thing, screaming in the car.
Someone called the cops, they showed up to arrest him—Mom didn't want to press charges.
Why? That drunk man was our dad.
Loud music breaks through my thoughts and I turn to glare at Hunter. "How can you even hear yourself think over this?"
"Huh?" He looks at me in confusion before motioning to his ear as if to say, 'I can't hear you' and I wave him off.
Unlike that tainted memory, I can recall some good times getting Italian food with just my mom and Hunter.
We'd always argue over who got to sit next to her. Hunter would always concede and I'd triumphantly slide into the booth next to Mom.
Looking back on it now, the image of little Hunter sitting across from us, all alone—makes my heart ache.
I never saw it that way.
We finally make it to the parking lot, which is packed of course and Hunter pulls into an available parking spot towards the side of the building.
"Hey, Hunter?" I pick at a loose thread on my dress as I try to choose my words carefully. It doesn't feel like he completely hates me right now and I'd rather not rock that boat.
"Hm?" He barely acknowledges me, eyes now on his phone. "Trey is trying to change her mind about tonight. Of course."
"I just...wanted to say I'm sorry. For all the times I sided with Mom over you."
He doesn't look up but by the change in expression on his face, I know he heard me.
"I never meant to make you feel like it was us against you," I stumble over my words, unsure of what I'm really saying but feeling like it needs to be said. "I want—"
"It's fine."
He suddenly swings the driver door open and I blink as he climbs out of the Jeep, slamming the door shut behind him.
Oh.
Okay.
I compose myself, trying to tame the brewing emotions inside as I also get out of the car and follow his strides up to the front of the restaurant.
There's a host positioned at the double front doors and when we walk up, she smiles at us. "Hello, how many today?"
"We're actually meeting our mom. Andrea, party of three," Hunter replies before going back to his phone and the host taps on her tablet a couple times before opening one of the doors for us to walk through. "Yeah, for sure. Second dining room on your right. Enjoy!"
"Thank you," I say as Hunter walks inside and I follow him.
Mellow Italian jazz is pumping through the speakers as the intense scent of fried food and marinara assaults my nose.
Thankfully, Hunter leads the way so I can zone out until he stops at a table and I recognize Mom sitting on the other side of the booth.
I take the liberty of sitting across from her, leaving Hunter to sit beside her and he stares at me. "What are you doing?"
"Sitting." I shrug my shoulders, knowing this isn't the norm but also not caring.
He rolls his eyes dramatically and plops down in the seat next to Mom, immediately grabbing one of the three menus on the table between us. "Whatever. I'm getting mozzarella sticks."
Mom makes no comment, swirling around the glass of fresh red wine in her hand.
I take an available menu and unfold it in front of myself, trying to read but really just staring through it.
It's going to be a long dinner.