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This is how things are now.
Sadness washes over me like a cool spring rain. I've lost a lot of things this year, but my friendship with Matt is the one that stings the most.
After a few quiet moments of watching Audra's chest rise and fall, deciding she's probably just having a bad dream, I leave the living room behind and make my way back to the kitchen. To Diane, who's moved the bowl of mashed potatoes beside the gravy on the stove. She's now dipping her spoonful of potatoes in the brown dressing before devouring it in one fell swoop.
I let out a breath of hot air. "Guess I'll start boiling some more potatoes."
"Make it fast," she raises her eyebrows at me. "I'm starving."
—
"What are you doing out here?" I ask Kyle as I slip into the front porch swing beside him with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, extra whip.
He wraps his arm over my shoulder, pulls me closer to him. "Just admiring our new car."
I laugh. "You're sitting out here in the freezing cold because you wanted to look at the car?"
He shakes his head. "No, Matt's annoying as fuck today. Keeps asking me what bank I robbed to afford such a prestigious motor vehicle."
"Sounds like Matt," I chuckle sadly. I take a sip of hot chocolate, hoping Kyle can't see the hurt flashing across my face.
But he never misses a thing.
His hand cups my cheek. "You miss him."
I shrug beneath his warm shoulder, refusing to meet his eyes. "I miss a lot of things about home."
"If you're in the market for a new best friend," he grins at me while I sneak a glance up at him, "I'm available."
"You don't have friends," I laugh.
"Not true," he argues playfully. "I have Joe."
"Joe is never home and he graduated two years ago. He's your roommate. There's a difference," I chide.
"I had friends," Kyle exhales, his tone serious. His dark eyes look out over the snowy neighborhood, taking in the colorless afternoon. "But then my mom..."
"Hurt you," I finish for him.
He sighs. "Yes."
"I'm sorry," I say quietly as I rub his hand.
"How do you forgive people, Jenny?" he asks as he chews on his bottom lip. "You forgave Matt when he hurt you. You forgave your mom when she said all that shit to you. How did you do that?"
My throat constricts as he peers down at me, searching my face for the answer. There's this overwhelming heaviness that settles in my chest, over my heart. I want to say the right thing—the right mix of words that will help him forgive his mother. But I'm afraid what works for me, won't work for him.
We're so different.
"I..." His dark eyes soften around the edges as he waits patiently for me to collect my thoughts. "I guess I decided my relationships are more important than any mistakes made in them. Matt's done a ton of crappy things this year but, over the course of our friendship, he's done a lot of good, too. He was my best friend for a long time. I haven't forgotten that."
"You forgave him because you decided he's done more good than bad?" he cocks an unimpressed eyebrow.
"No," I fumble with the explanation. "I mean, yes. No...I tried to give him some...grace, you know? Like I'd want him to give me."
"You're not making any sense," Kyle shakes his dark head, confused.
Of course I'm not. Because I feel flustered, ill-equipped, unprepared to give him the answer he's seeking.
