While the group chats for a while longer, I excuse myself and bring all the dirty plates into the kitchen. Making myself useful is always a great way to get out of an uncomfortable situation.
I’m a few minutes deep into scrubbing the dishes when someone comes up beside me and takes the plate from my hands. I spin around to look at who my new companion is.
“I apologize if I came across as harsh on you, Sienna,”
Patricia murmurs, her expression sincere and remorseful.
Now I feel guilty that she feels guilty. I mean, she’s his mom. Of course she has his best interests at heart. I’m not going to fault her for that.
I plant my attention back on the dishes. “That’s okay. I know you care about Kayden and you only want what’s best for him.”
“I can sense that you feel the same too,” she notes thoughtfully, picking up a sponge herself and rubbing it over the back of the plate. “Kayden has always been troubled.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind him fighting. It’s just, what he’s doing in the underground and you encouraging it . . . it feels dangerous.”
“I understand why you worry,” I say, biting my bottom lip in contemplation. “If it makes you feel any better, I won’t let anyone hurt your son.”
Patricia drops the sponge into the sink and pats her hands dry on her apron, shaking her head.
“That’s not why I worry, Sienna.”
A confused look passes over my face.
“I don’t understand.”
She looks around the kitchen, checking for anyone who might be eavesdropping. When the coast is clear, she lowers her head, along with her voice, and meets my gaze with her own, except this time, her eyes are dark with worry. “I’m only saying this because I think you’re a good person. And the both of you clearly care about each other a lot. But it’s hard to be with someone with the hopes of fighting their demons for them. They’ve got to do it on their own.”
“Oh um . . .” Her words catch me off guard. “With all due respect, I’m not in this relationship to fix him. And I know Kayden has his issues, but it seems like he’s doing really well.”
His mood has definitely brightened up when he’s around me and he’s more open and honest with me than ever before.
I definitely sense the change but now, upon reflecting on mine and Patricia’s conversation, I wonder if it’s temporary.
Would he still be that same person if I left?
“Perhaps.” Patricia pulls away from me, fiddling with the edge of her apron. “But it’s not just him I’m talking about.
I’m talking about you too. Seems like you’re also fighting a fight of your own.”
“Oh,” is the only thing I can say as her statement permeates my troubled brain.
Damn, she’s good. Of course she is. She’s a social worker, she’s supposed to be good at reading people. And the fact that she can sense all from one conversation makes me feel uneasy. My body feels helpless against the weight-crushing disappointment, knowing that no matter how hard I try with Kayden’s mom, her opinion of me has already been set.
“Excuse me,” I say, the feeling of inadequacy and anxiety climbing up my throat and pricking my eyes with tears. I drop my sponge into the sink and scramble out of the kitchen.
I don’t want her to see me like this. Or anyone for that matter.
I need to be alone.
***
I decide the best course of action is to hide from the rest of them for the remainder of the day, perching myself on the footsteps of the front door. I inhale deep, steady breaths to get rid of the strain between my shoulders and crammed in my chest. I must have stayed out long enough for my absence to be noticed because the front door wrenches open and a concerned-looking Kayden joins me by the steps.
“You all right?” He asks, looping an arm over me and pulling me into his warmth.
“Your mom hates me.” I make a sad noise.
“No, she doesn’t,” he says obliviously.