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Chapter Six – November 7 - Addy

The preacher had already started his sermon when the doors to the church opened. I knew without turning around who was walking in. I heard a deep, but quiet voice, say ‘excuse me’ to those in the pew behind me. I turned my head a fraction of an inch and saw Kevin sit Mason down with a coloring book and crayons. I turned my head back to the front of the room as Kevin lowered himself down on the bench; I heard it creak softly as he leaned forward and picked up a hymn book.

I must admit that I’m not the most attentive person at church. Often times I let my gaze wander, silently observing those around me. The only time the preacher fully had my interest was when the choir stood and we began to sing. It didn’t matter how off-key I was, I sang loud and proud. Today the preacher must have been in an especially good mood, all of the songs he chose were especially light and uplifting. Kevin’s voice was so close it was almost as if he was singing right in my ear; I hated to admit it, but I could have listened to him sing all day.

In truth, I wasn’t completely oblivious to who he was. I had been young once and I knew who the Backstreet Boys were. However, I had never listened to one of their songs in my life. While my friends chattered on and flipped through magazines, I was more interested in Brooks & Dunn’s latest single than a group of boys that sang about loving someone until they died. It was all lies; at least country songs spoke about the grim reality of the world: cheating, heartbreak, dying. Country music had it all.

As we sat back down and put our hymn books away, I felt a little hand on my shoulder. I turned to see Mason smiling at me and my dad.

“Hi Addy. Hi Santa,” he said happily. Kevin tugged him back down and put a finger to his lips. My dad gave him a sparkly-eyed wink.

As the preacher ended his sermon, my stomach twisted a little. I wasn’t looking forward to having Kevin over for lunch. Mason, yes. Kevin, no. At the end of the church service, people came up and shook my dad’s hand and hugged me, chattering happily about some new event or complaining about an ailment. I smoothed the hem of my white cotton dress and tugged my sweater tighter around my shoulders. Everyone told me it was taboo to wear white after Labor Day, but I didn’t care. It made me think of summer all year round.

Before we left the church, dad turned and addressed Kevin.

“Son, feel free to follow us back to our place,” he said. Kevin just nodded.

I got into the car and dad took the quick five minute drive back home. When we pulled up, I headed straight to the kitchen. I hoped that by keeping busy, I wouldn’t have to make any small talk with Kevin.

My dad’s booming voice filled the living room as he lead Kevin and Mason in. His head peeked into the kitchen.

“Can we have three glasses of lemonade, sweetheart?” he asked. I nodded.

“Coming right up.”

I took out three tall glasses and one shot glass. The lemonade went in the three tall ones; whiskey went into the shot. I placed the glasses on a tray and downed the whiskey before I headed into the living room. Dad didn’t know that I had ever tried alcohol; I kept my bottle hidden for emergencies. Having Kevin in my living room constituted an emergency.

Kevin and Mason were sitting on the loveseat; Dad was in his recliner. I set the tray down on the coffee table between them.

“Lunch will be ready in five minutes,” I said, looking at my dad. The hair on the back of my neck rose. I felt Kevin’s eyes on me.

“Alright sweetheart, thank you,” he said.

I walked back in the kitchen. As I heated my famous barbeque, I listened to the conversation drifting in from the other room.

“So Kevin, what do you do?”

“Do, sir?”

“Yes, what line of work are you in?”

“Oh, I’m…” Kevin seemed to trail off. “I’m a singer, composer. I’ve done a little acting. Right now, my full time job is taking care of Mason.”

“What type of music are you interested in?” My dad asked. I heard a different tone in his voice. I paused, my wooden spoon hovering over the pan.

“Mostly pop and r&b,” Kevin said. “I’ve also performed in Chicago and I’ve dabbled with writing some Christian music. My cousin’s actually done very well in that genre.”

“My wife’s greatest love in life was theatre,” my dad said. My eyes widened in surprise. I hadn’t heard him say anything about mom in…

I couldn’t remember how long it had been.

“Was?” Kevin asked softly.

“Well, for all I know, she might be a Broadway star,” my dad said with a laugh void of humor. It’s been almost twenty five years since I’ve seen her.”

Dad’s voice cracked. Quickly turning off the burner, I poked my head out into the living room. My dad was staring down at his lemonade and Kevin was…

Kevin was staring at my dad as if he was knew exactly how he felt.

“Lunch is ready,” I said, quickly ducking back into the kitchen. The only footsteps I heard were Mason’s. He rounded the corner and grinned up at me.

“I’m hung-gee!” he said. I ruffled his hair and sat him in a chair I had stacked with phone books. It was a small town girl’s version of a booster seat.

My dad and Kevin walked in quietly. My dad seemed lost in memories. I filled homemade sandwich buns full of barbeque and set plates in front of all three guys. As I wiped my hands on a kitchen towel my mind struggled to bring up a memory of mom. Besides her penchant for soap operas, I vaguely remembered lying in my bed while mom and dad argued in the living room. I had never really understood what made mom so angry; but a few words came back to me. Small town…no opportunities…the stage…alive…

With a deep breath, I sat down. I watched Mason take a big sloppy bite of sandwich; the red sauce covered his entire face. Kevin glanced over and met my eyes. For once, he didn’t seem so hostile.

This was going to be interesting.