The Cassidy Boys

Chapter Twenty-Three: Confrontation

Chapter Twenty-Three: Confrontation

"Ew," I groan, and wave my hand back and forth in the air. "Seriously?"

My dad throws me a triumphant smirk over his shoulder in response to the gas his body emitted. I lightly slap his arm, but he quickly lifts his finger up to his lips, and gives me the "shush" signal. My stealthy spy mode kicks in as I nod, and my dad slowly pushes open the door.

The yellow light from the hallway spills into the bedroom, and highlights the mom sized lump resting on the king-sized bed. My dad and I exchange one more nervous smile before we tip toe our way into the room. While I sit up on my knees by my mom's legs on the bed, my dad slowly lowers a shiny hardcover book onto what looks like my mom's side underneath all the layers of blankets. It only takes a second for a hand to jump out from underneath the layers, and smack down right on top of the book.

"Happy sale day!" I cheer and throw in some jazz hands for effect.

My mom rolls over on her back. Even through the dark I can see the smile already spreading across her face as she slowly sits up. My dad reaches over and twists on the lamp resting on the bedside table. The light illuminates the bold black words resting along the bottom of the book cover. My mom's name.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" my mom whispers as she traces each letter with her finger.

"It sure is." My dad plants a kiss to the side of her head and repeats the gesture on mine before retreating out of the room to leave for the forty-five-minute commute to the school he works at. Ever since my mom's first book was released, my dad made it a tradition to go out and be the first person to buy a copy at our local twenty-four-hour bookstore.

"Well," I yawn the word before telling myself to get up from the bed. "I better start getting ready."

Although I really wasn't planning on moving anytime soon, a yank to my right arm sends me flying into the warmth of my mom's chest. Now I never want to move as she continues to rock me and squish me against her. Her happiness is contagious. I want to soak it up like a sponge, and never let it go.

"I love you," my mom mumbles before repeatedly kissing the top of my head.

"I love you too." My smile quickly transforms into a laugh when she squeezes me to the brink of suffocation.

"Have a wonderful day," my mom beams when she finally releases me from her grasp.

I find myself once again wanting to bask in the glow of her smile. I will myself to hold onto to it with all my might because I know I'm going to need it later.

Today is my mom's sale day.

Today is also later.

There's no turning back.

****

I feel like I'm on fire.

The second I stepped into the school building it felt as though someone lit me up with a match. On any other day, I wouldn't think anything of it. I always get a little nervous walking into school, but today is different.

Today I'm slowly burning away with a candle sitting in the pit of my stomach. The flame burns inside of me, continuously churning and swaying on the wicker.

I've conjured up every possible scenario, every possible conversation. As if I'm a director on a movie set in my mind. I've written and rewritten the script, changed the dialogue in every possible way, thought of all the possible things he could say. I've planned for every kind of scenario, rehearsed my lines so many times.