The Shadow of Our Past

Hard Answers

A half an hour after leaving the shop, I arrive at Kira's with a bag packed. We both agreed to drive to the beach together before leaving the shop, Kira claiming she doesn't trust me not to get lost. I scoffed at that, but she still insisted she at least direct me there.

Looking at her house, I realize the last time I was here I barely got a glance at the astounding flowers and greenery. The stone walkway leads to a dark wooden archway over a platform that borders an intricate wooden door.

I take a cleansing breath in and out, then exit my dingy, worn car. I'm not sure what to expect of Kira's family, she rarely ever mentions them. She seems to value her family though and that is enough to calm my nerves. I approach the door with soft steps and rasp my knuckles against its wood.

After a few seconds footsteps and muffled talking can be heard from beyond the door. The door swings open, but the face that greets me is not who I expect. A woman, possibly in her late thirties, stands in the doorway. She has expressive blue eyes that peer at me kindly. Her face has the same structure as Kira, a small button nose and defined jaw. At first glance, I would have thought she was Kira if it wasn't for the gray strands that are starting to consume her short, brown hair.

"You must be Ben," she greets me, voice soft and kind.

"And you must be Mrs. Johnson, It's nice to meet you," I return as I offer my hand. She takes it in both of her hands and smiles at me. Just from this kind gesture, I can see my own mother in her. My expression falls with a tinge of sadness for a moment before I remember myself.

"There's no need to be all proper, you can call me Morgan." Kira is behind her when I glance into the house and I shoot her a quirk of my lips before returning my eyes to her mom. "But I do appreciate you being such a gentleman." I nod kindly and she pats my hand. She shuffles away to allow me to pass the threshold of the door. The decorations are just as appealing as the exterior of the house, all modern and welcoming.

Slipping off my shoes, I watch Morgan make her way back into the kitchen. The mat I set my sandals down on is full of an assortment of shoes on it, some I recognize as Kira's. I look back up at Kira, who is leaning her shoulder against the wall.

"Hey," she chirps.

"Hey," I return, heart fluttering.

From the kitchen Morgan calls to me, "If you want, you can join us for dinner."

I freeze for a moment, then nod my head with a glance to Kira. "That would be great." Mrs. Johnson looks satisfied and when she turns back to the stove I raise my eyes at Kira with questioning surprise.

She matches my expression and after a few moments we laugh, breaking eye contact. Kira then waves me to follow her as she walks into the living room. I follow behind her, but a fluffy cat rubbing on my leg stops me in my tracks. Maxine looks up at me, rubbing against my leg again as if to emphasize her desperation to be pet. I bend down to pick her up and Kira looks back at me. She snickers and continues to the door of her room. With Maxine still in hand, I enter Kira's room.

Her bedroom is full of beached themed decorations, even the fan blades are shaped like palm fronds. There is a white, simple desk off to my left and next to it a second door leads to the pool room. A large bed is directly in front of the door across the small, cozy room. An excessive amount of throw pillows are piled onto it and a closed, sleek laptop is sitting on the blanket. To the right of the bed, there's a large bathroom with hair and makeup products strewn about. The only lights on are the fairy lights above her bed and the small lamp on the bed stand. When I fully enter the room, I notice the large bookshelf tucked in the corner to my right, full of books and souvenirs from various different countries and states.