“Montana, honey,” comes a sudden voice from behind us, startling me.
I’m grateful for the interruption, giving me an excuse to turn around to see Lizzie standing there, looking at me with a soft look on her face and something like understanding, and ignoring the confusing bomb my father dropped in front of my feet.
She continues, seemingly unaware of my inner turmoil, “Do you mind helping me in the kitchen? If you’re up for it. I invited Kade for dinner, and I’m not sure I’ll get it all done in time. I could use your help.”
I frown at the name, instantly annoyed again at his earlier behavior, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be helpful. After all, they’ve offered me help when they didn’t need to, and so far, it hasn’t come with strings attached. “Of course. Though, fair warning, I’ve never really cooked before. Well, besides grilled cheese and ramen.”
Her laugh is light and unconcerned, setting my nerves at ease. “That’s okay, I can teach you.”
“Okay,” I agree, mostly because of my need to escape the awkward tension between Wayne and I.
I follow her into the kitchen, wondering how I could help with only one hand. I shouldn’t have worried though, as soon as I look around the kitchen, I realize she doesn’t need my help.
Noticing my confused frown, she leans in and whispers, “You looked like you needed a break.” Her hand falls on my good shoulder and squeezes softly, her touch more soothing than I expected.
“Thank you. Being here… It’s a bit overwhelming to be honest.” My smile is shaky. Ever since she married my father eight years ago and made sure not to invite me, I’ve disliked her. Even though I didn’t know her, I couldn’t help the feelings of resentment consuming me. I blamed her for the broken relationship with my father for a long time, thinking she was the reason he never reached out. So, her loving and caring demeanor toward me, despite knowing what I’ve done in the past, and clearly sharing part of Kade’s opinion of me, throws me for a loop. I didn’t expect her to be kind.
“That’s understandable. Maybe this visit is just what you need to figure yourself out. I know Wayne loves having you here. Never doubt that.” It’s the sincerity in her words that calms down the raging ball of hurt and confusion inside of me. Something my own mother has never been able, or bothered, to do. “Now, how about you just relax for the night? And I’ll show you how to cook my mother’s famous lasagna.”
“Okay,” I say and look at the ingredients and utensils spread across the counter, not noticing the look of gentle understanding entering her eyes as she looks as me. Like she knows more than she’s willing to share right now. “Where do we start?”
“Well, the ground beef and onions should just about be done frying. Once they are, we’ll add all the ingredients for the sauce. I’ve already prepared the spinach and ricotta cheese for a second layer.”
“Anything I can actually do to help?” I ask, this time with a real smile.
“Yes, go stir the meat and onions to make sure they don’t burn. Let me know once all the meat has turned brown.”
This sounds easy enough and even I should be able not to fuck it up. “Okay.” I walk to the stove and start stirring.
For the next hour, Lizzie shows me how to cook her lasagna, make a quick and easy salad to go with it, and even added some garlic bread to the spread. And not once did she make me feel like an incompetent imbecile for not knowing how to do cook, or even make a simple salad.
“Do you want some tea or water?” Lizzie asks me while I set the table.
“Water would be great. Thank you,” I answer, setting the last of the cutlery down.
“Oh, honey, we need one more place setting.” Her voice is distracted. “Then go have a seat. I’ll bring you your water.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I grab one more plate, water glass, and cutlery before I move back into the living room and take a seat on the wingback chair kitty-corner to the couch.
“Here you go,” Lizzie says from next to me and hands me a glass of water. “I also went to grab your pills. I thought you might need to take them with dinner.”
I clutch the pill bottle and smile at her in thanks. “I do. Thank you.”
Before anyone can say anything more, there’s a knock on the door and someone opening the door on a yell, “Aunt Lizzie, we’re here.”
I freeze, not only at the realization that Kade is Lizzie’s nephew, but also at the beautiful blonde who looks like she just stepped off a runway somewhere in Milan walking in with his arm around her. I don’t need to look at myself to know my sweatpants are old and ratty looking, which is probably what makes them so comfortable, or that my old University of Washington T-shirt is as faded as ever with more than one hole decorating it. My hand automatically lifts to my fading lilac hair with its dark-brown roots showing more than I’d like that Lizzie helped me put in a messy bun. I’m painfully aware I look run-down and nothing like the gorgeous woman currently hugging my father like they’re all one big, happy family with me as an interloper.
“Montana,” my father’s voice interrupts my internal comparison to the gorgeous woman who triggers all my insecurities. “I want you to meet Lauren.” He gestures toward the woman, who I assume is Kade’s girlfriend, with a beaming smile on his face and love shining in his eyes.
