Saturday Morning

Saturday. Kylee flung the covers off and grabbed up a change of clothes. She streaked into the bathroom to shower and change before Bill could notice her. The worst part about the weekend was knowing he would be here, all day for two whole days.

She ended her shower before the running water could attract his attention. She stepped into her room and found a pair of jeans and gray hoodie to put on.

The kitchen was empty. Kylee began working on the dough that would be part of their dinner later. Pausing, she listened for Bill. Nothing yet. Last night’s fight must’ve really done a number on him. She needed to check on her mother, but she didn’t want to bump into him. She tiptoed into her mom’s bedroom. Only her mother lay on top of the covers.

“Mom? Do you ever leave this room?” Kylee placed a mug of coffee on the nightstand. The only response was a soft groan.

“You need to get out of the house.” Kylee took a sip of the coffee. “We could go meet the neighbors. Take them some fresh bread.”

“Too much light,” her mom whispered.

Her mom got awful headaches that sometimes left her vomiting. Kylee closed the blinds and left the room. She needed to get the eggs.

The cool morning air blew her wispy blond hair away from her face, and she took a moment to breathe it in. As always, the briny smell of aquatic life carried over the earthy aroma of farm life and woods. Less than an hour away, the Atlantic Ocean crashed against the Virginia shore.

Twenty miles from the Virginia Beach boardwalk, but Bill absolutely forbade her to go.

Come to think of it, she hadn’t heard him yell yet this morning. In fact, she hadn’t even heard the television blaring. Where was he?

She unlatched the door to the chicken coop. The chickens plucked at her hands until she dumped enough feed into the house to distract them. The eggs now unguarded, Kylee carefully placed each one into the basket.

On the other side of the house, she heard voices calling back and forth. The neighbors. She picked up the basket of eggs and scurried into the front yard.

A big dog with shaggy reddish-yellow fur ran around their yard, panting as he ducked in and out of the legs of an adolescent boy and a young girl. The man stood in the moving truck, handing boxes to the two children.

Kylee slowed down. The girl’s brown hair was in a messy ponytail, as if she had slept on the hairdo. The boy’s hair was a similar color, but spiked upward in a trendy style Kylee recognized from television commercials. He had his back to her, so Kylee couldn’t see his face, but judging from his height, he had to be about her age. Fifteen, at the oldest. She felt a rush of energy. Having a neighbor her age, especially a boy, was more than she could hope for.

As if sensing her stare, he turned around and met her eyes across the fence. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Then Kylee smiled and waved. She’d been right. “Hi. I’m Kylee.”

He didn’t smile back. He just stared at her another moment, then turned his back on her and said something to the man in the van.

Maybe he didn’t hear me, Kylee told herself, the familiar coldness of disappointment seeping into her limbs. He could’ve at least smiled.

He swiveled around and met her gaze again. He took two steps backwards, his eyes not leaving hers. And then he disappeared around the side of the van. Kylee heard his footsteps as he ran into the house.

“So much for making a friend,” she sighed. All the excitement about having new neighbors rushed out of her. Drained, tired, and wanting to do nothing more except go back to bed, Kylee pushed open the screen door and went into the house.

She deposited the basket of eggs on the counter, then thought better of it. She better wash them first. She turned on the warm water and worked the soap into a lather, all the while cursing her family for being a blight on the community. She didn’t know what the rumors were, but she knew people talked about them. She remembered the looks when she’d gone to school. She felt the whispers even from her room, the way people pointed and hurried past.

She hadn’t expected the new family to hear them already. Maybe the Realtor warned them when he sold the house. It was only fair, right? They should know what they were getting into. Maybe they got the house for a song and a dance because of the crazy neighbors.

She’d find a chance to talk to the boy. She could show him that not all of the Mansfield family was crazy.

The egg she held in her hand slipped between her fingers. Kylee grappled for it, performing a desperate dance before gravity won the battle. It cracked open on the linoleum, the sound louder than a gunshot to Kylee’s ears. She held her breath. Maybe Bill hadn’t heard.

Silence.

She went to the front window and lifted the slanting blinds. Where she expected to see the dented, rusty car, the driveway was empty.

“Bill’s not here,” she whispered.