See In Him

20

  "Kennith! Finally, I found you."

  The boy gave a deadpan expression to his father. "Yeah. I haven't gone anywhere."

  "You've been getting lots of phone calls on my cell from your siblings. Birthday wishes."

  Right. Today was Kennith's birthday. The realization made him grimace. Now, he would have to sit through messages left by his family, a big, fat hug from his father that he received only once a year, and a note typed in braille from his mother. She always gave him something like that: a poem, a letter, something made personal that took time.

  "Can I listen to the messages tonight?" He was a little overwhelmed, to be honest. Would it be rude if he locked himself in that bedroom and read? Since when did he worry if he was ever rude?

  "Of course. Apparently lunch'll be on soon. The sandwiches that Robin and his wife are making sound good," Micheal said.

  "Yeah? And how's the accommodation? Are you sleeping in straw piles with the horses?"

  "No, no. Jesse's staying out there too. They're nice rooms. A little dusty, but it's homely, you know?"

  "No. I don't know. This place is boring."

  Micheal sighed. Kennith stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Oh, hey, have you met Jesse's mom yet? I haven't seen her," Micheal wondered. Kennith shook his head. "I don't know. Probably hiding. Don't blame her."

  His father tsked. "She's probably grieving her son. I'd be doing the same."

  "Right. Like our family gets along great," Kennith scoffed.

  "It's not about getting along. If we needed our kids to get along with us all the time, we wouldn't have had more than one. It's about fitting in so that even if we fight or aren't all the same, moving a piece of our family puzzle ruins the picture."

  The boy sighed. Why did Jesse's family feel like someone had stolen, torn, and tried to put back every piece?

  The pair met Robin and his wife, Jewel, in the kitchen where the couple were standing over deluxe egg salad and a family tuna recipe. The scent made Kennith grimace, but he was able to hide it when Jewel said a warm greeting and Micheal shook their hands.

  "Hi. I'm Micheal. This is my son, Kennith. We're sorry about your brother."

  "Thank you. Right... Jesse's friends. Thanks for coming. I think it means a lot to him."

  "Happy to be here. What are you making?"

  "Other than sandwiches, I made potato salad. It might just be you three, us, and Margie for lunch, though. My mother is probably sleeping upstairs and Dad is out working. Won't be back in until later tonight."

  "Of course. Can we help with anything?" Kennith hated his father for volunteering him.

  "Oh, no, it's fine. Thanks." Although he did his best to stay positive, Kennith could tell that Grayson's death had all his siblings at each other's throats. He could hear it in Robin's voice, that sharpness to it. The man had no patience for strangers, which Kennith understood. So, instead of hovering, Jesse sat at the dining room table while Micheal and Kennith went into the living room. His father pulled out his phone, throwing up dust from the unused couch they sat on.

  "You wanna hear your messages? Zach left one on my cell super early this morning when he found out we wouldn't be home, Lily and the kids left one, and Saskia left you one. There'll probably be more later."

  Right, birthday wishes. Gross.

  Most years, his siblings called the home phone, he refused to answer, and they left messages. Eventually, he appreciated them, but Kennith always hated birthdays. They reminded him of the promise of death and the fact that he was even closer to it. Sometimes, that was good, and usually he just shrugged off the idea of celebrating his stupid birthday and carried on as if he didn't despise his existence.