I wake to the noise of the front door closing loudly. I attempt to go back to sleep but as each second passes, it seems to be an unlikely thing to ask.
I tug on my wrinkled top found besides the bed, trudge down the stairs and turn into the kitchen. I opening the double-door, metallic fridge and let my eyes scan the content. A bright carton of orange juice catches my eye and my throat is suddenly dry, craving something to cure the drought-like feeling.
Considering that Gregg must have left for work, and my mother probably wouldn't ever find out I am drinking directly from the carton, I unscrew the cap and take a gulp.
To my surprise, a voice breaks the silence with a demanding, "Don't you dare". Due to the unforeseen interruption, I manage to spill at least half of the content of the carton over my chest.
The voice wasn't that of my mother's. That leaves the possibility that either Auden grew far too quickly and changed gender, or Gregg's balls have tightened since I last saw him, leaving him with this feminine voice.
Hiding behind the fridge door, I consider the possibilities of those two scenarios, with both seeming highly ulikely. Gradually, the memories of the previous night resurface, and the pieces of the puzzle promptly find their way together.
It occurs to be that I am not where I thought I was. I am now standing in a stranger's kitchen, partially naked, with their orange juice down my chest.
Shit, this couldn't be more awkward if it wanted to be.
I play it cool. I screw the cap onto the carton and close the fridge door.
"Good morning, Lana", I say, in the most mutual tone I can create.
She looks taken back by my response, most likely expecting something else, anything else other than a pleasant greeting. While I stand watching her, trying to figure out when the best time to ask for the location of the towels would be, I begin to wonder if she's heard any stories about me. Living in this town, it's most likely that she's heard of something.
All this thinking hurts my brain. I said that other people's opinions wouldn't matter to me, and yet here I am, trying to figure out what this kind, but random, girl knows about me.
Shaking my head, I move towards her. This action startles her, bringing her out of her daze.
"Thanks for the place to crash. I'll be out of your hair soon" I nonchalantly mention as I walk past her and ascend the stairs.
While I get changed, I can not help but imagine how my mother is going to react to seeing me after all these months. I have so many questions for her, so many things I need answered. I have no idea what is wrong with her or why she has kept it from me. I would ask Lana, but from what I can work out, Lana thinks that I am fully aware of what is happening with my mother. And although that this has all pissed me off, I believe that I should give my mother the chance to tell me things in her own way. Kathleen Thomson isn't someone that does something for no reason, and it's only fair that I let her explain herself.
First things first, I just need to see her. Although our relationship is not half of what it used to be, my mother still raised me, singlehandedly for that matter. She has always been the strong parental figure in my life and it's about time I stepped up and became the son she deserves.
As I enter the kitchen with my duffle bag resting beside me, I see that the mess I had previously made has disappeared. I turn to leave the room, and that's when I bump into Lana.
"I'm so sorry, I should have been looking where I was going", she rushes, and yet I don't see why. It was just an accident. I could see that she was beyond embarrassed, but it wasn't like I had caught her half-naked in my kitchen, drinking my orange juice from my carton.
"Am I not supposed to be here? Are your parents going to come walking in, wondering what am I doing here?" I question her, confused as to why she's so jumpy right now. Her attitude this morning certainly contrasts against her fiery attitude from last night/early hours this morning.
"No, no. I told my Dad you were here before he left for work this morning. He knows Kathl.. uh.. your mum, so he understood why I offered you somewhere to stay".
"And your mum? Where is she?" I question.
Lana's fingers fight with each other, keeping her attention focused on something other than my question. From personal experience I was able to identify when people didn't want to talk about something, and it seemed as if this was one of these topics for the girl standing in front of me.
When she finally looks up to respond, her answer is short, her eyes hard.
"She doesn't live here" she replies, departing with those words.
This captures my attention, making me follow her body until it can't be seen. She doesn't look like she's had to live the life of watching conflict between parents. It's a surprise that she chose to live with her Dad, because the typical thing is to live with your mother.
Lana's change in attitude has certainly made me curious, but the thing bugging me is that I don't know why I am so curious. Well, it's true what they say. There is often more to people than what the human eye can see.
Unaware of what I'm supposed to do after she left me standing in her kitchen, I decide upon being courteous and give her a proper thank you for letting me stay at hers last. She didn't know who I was, and yet she gave up her spare bed so I could rest, which is a generous thing to do. Although, I do believe it had something to do with the fact that she knows my mother, and she wouldn't want me disturbing her.
I stand at the bottom of the stairs, unsure of whether I want to walk up and find her or just call from where I am now. I decide to go with the latter. Even though it may seem rude, walking in on her showering, changing, maybe even crying would be even ruder and would certainly make the situation incredibly awkward.
"Umm..Lana?", I hesitantly call.
She emerges from the room she disappeared into last night, with a worried expression on her face.
"Yes, is everything okay? Is your mum okay?", She questions, running down the stairs to stop a few steps away from where I'm standing.
"I haven't seen her yet, I just wanted to say thanks before I left", I explain.
'Oh, okay. That's alright. Tell your mum I'll be over at the usual time'.
I nod, assuring her that I will tell my mother exactly that. She turns to walk back upstairs, and I turn to open the front door.
I rush up the steps that lay outside Mum and Greggs' home, eager to get inside, to get answers.
I form a fist, ready to knock on the door, but hesitantly lower it to give myself a little time to become composed. I can no longer pretend that there is nothing wrong with my mother. Now is the time for me to become the person that my mother intended me to be.
These following moments were going to change everything.
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These are all written on my phone so if there are any spelling/grammatical/punctuational errors, I apologise!!
