Crash and Burn

•22•

Hope
October

     I sat at the dining table while Grace napped on the couch and Kennedy did dishes from lunch. There were letters from various colleges on the counter that belonged to both Kenny and me. I've been sitting on pins and needles to see what my future would look like. Kenny didn't look as excited.

"Kenny," I sigh. "When are we going to open those?" I gesture to the pile of papers. "Aren't you curious at all?"

Kennedy set the plate that she'd been scrubbing down. She put her hands on the counter, lowered her head, and sighed. "Not particularly, no. I'm not in the mood to see a paper tell me how useless I am. How stupid I am. I—I don't need that right now." She scrubbed her face with her hands.

     I was about to insist on opening them—to tell her I was here for her—but at that moment Grace walked in with her shawl around her shoulders and her cane. Her once rose-colored cheeks were now as pale as a ghost, and a sunken as Kenny's hope. Grace's eyes no longer held the fire of a fight. They were still and nearly lifeless.

     "Oh, Hope, you're still here!" She gave me a weak smile and slowly made her way to the counter where the letters lay. "Why haven't you opened these? I want to see where you'll be when I'm gone."

     Kennedy shook her head. "Mom, you're not going anywhere." Grace chuckled. "And," she continued, "I haven't gotten around to opening them."

     Grace looked at me with a questioning glance. I shrugged. Grace sighed before saying, "Don't worry about the cost, Ken."

     Kennedy's face got red. "How? We have no life insurance to pay for you. You can't work. I don't qualify for any scholarships because I'm either failing or working to pay for everything! How can you expect me not to worry about the cost of college?"

    Grace patted their letters and cane to sit at the table. "That's not why you're angry, is it?"

     "It doesn't matter." Kenny turned back to the dishes.

     "On the contrary," Grace leaned back and I knew this was going to get much worse. "We all know her matters the world to you. So, why are you afraid to tell him?"

     Kennedy three done the plate she was cleaning and there was a shattering sound in the sink. She turned—her lip quivering, her eye fighting between anger and sorrow. "How far you? How far you think so little of me and my strength?! This," she gestured to herself, "has absolutely nothing to do with Parker. Nothing does! Believe it or not, my first thought is not always a—a boy! I have my own mind and my own priorities! And yes, I am worried about the cost! But you are in no place to inflict judgment on me and how I feel or think!" And with that, she stormed from the room and the front door slammed a moment later.

     Despite what just happened, Grace chuckled. When I looked at her she was shaking her head. "That girl. She's so much like her father." She fixed her gaze on an unknown point and sighed. "He's a good man."

     "Is? Grace, Kennedy's father is dead." I held her hand that had been resting in the table.

     "Oh. Yes. I suppose he is. Charles is."

     And at that moment something clicked. The Hammocks had tried a few times in the last month to have everyone to dinner, but Kennedy always had an excuse. I'd assumed it was because of Parker. But Kenny was right. She did have other issues that weren't him. And it wasn't like this behavior was new. Before Parker even mentioned leaving, she'd hardly go to his house. We always met somewhere up. And now it made sense. Kennedy's dad was Charles, and Parker's stepdad is too.