Kieran Tate is the type of person who just floats through life. He had a somewhat average childhood, has somewhat average grades, and isn't really anything special. That's the way he likes it to be; do all of the needed tricks without falling off th...
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"Kieran!" my mom says frantically. "Is e-everything in place? The forks, the spoons, the napkins—are they all set?"
She takes one look at the dining table and nearly passes out. She anxiously soothes down her modest white dress before rearranging the table I just set as a bead of sweat lines her brow.
"No. No, no, no," she mumbles. "It's wrong, it's all wrong. The forks should be on the left, everything else on the right!"
When her fumbling hand doesn't let her perform the task perfectly, she drops the loose silverware to the table with a big clang. She puts her hand to her forehead before madly darting to the kitchen to now nitpick everything Jackson does.
"Bud, that's not the proper cutting technique for the vegetables!" she says exasperatedly, wringing her hands together with anxiety.
She takes the knife from Jackson's hands and she starts dicing the celery in the exact same way that Jackson just was. She wipes the back of her hand across her sheen forehead before continuing her shaky chopping.
Me and Jackson's eyes connect, and it goes without saying that we are worried about Mom.
The doorbell rings and Mom nearly jumps out of the hair tie at the end of her flawless braid when she usually prefers a messy, loose look.
"Oh, no," she mutters. "Oh, no, no, no, no. They weren't supposed to be here yet."
She scrambles over to the door only to release a sigh of relief when Cassius is on the other side. However, her second of calm is cut short when a wave of panic washes over her.
Cassius gives her a strange look when she doesn't greet him as she normally does. He has no chance to say anything, though, as she starts pacing in the middle of the living room, biting her fingernails into small stubs.
"Oh, gosh," she whimpers. "Where's Lilah? S-She's supposed to be over any minute."
Cassius walks over to me silently and kisses me on the cheek in greeting, but I'm still eyeing my mother, who seems to be suffering from a nervous breakdown.
"Mom," I say wearily. "Are you okay?"
"Okay?" she questions back, her eyes hectically flitting around the house to make sure nothing is out of place. "O-Of course!" she answers. "Of course I'm okay. It's not l-like my parents are coming over anything for the first time ever or anything. Everything's fine. Everything i-is j-just fine. And I—"
She clutches a hand over her chest like she can't breathe. She has no choice but to collapse onto the couch as her legs give out from the amount of stress she is putting on herself.
"Mom?!" Jackson says in concern.
Jacks, Cassius, and I all instantly rush to her aid as she starts to wheeze and becomes pale.
"C-Cam," she gasps. "Please, get C-Cam."
Before either Jackson or I can get our father, Cassius jumps up and runs down the hallway to fetch him. Unrelenting knocks are heard from deep within the hallway. After the sound of the opening door and a few quiet words are exchanged, Dad comes racing into the living room half-dressed, one arm out of his prim collared shirt as he rushes to his wife's side.
"It's too m-much," Mom croaks, reaching for his hands before he is even within arms reach of her.
He easily cradles her in his arms before scooping her off the couch and whispering sweet nothings into her blonde hair. She is shaking like a leaf in Dad's arms, and it hurts to see such a strong woman reduced to this state just because of a few relatives who have never appreciated her as much as we do.
"Jackson, can you finish up the rest of the food?" Dad says softly, trying not to startle Mom who is clutching onto his wrinkled shirt for dear life.
"Got it," he nods firmly before racing to the kitchen to finish the chicken pot pie and sautéed vegetables.
"Kieran, can you make sure that everything is picked up?" he pleads.
"Of course," I answer.
"Breath, hon, breathe," he murmurs to my mom before giving her a soft forehead kiss. "Boys, we'll be back out soon. Just give us a little time."
And with that, he walks out of the living room with my anxiety-riddled mother wrapped up in his loving embrace.
I've always known that the relationship between my mom and her parents was strained, but I didn't know it was this bad. Is this the reason she feels the need to be perfect all the time? To impress the people who haven't even supported her a second of her life? To dedicate her precious time and energy into people who only now want to make things right after ten years of no contact?
Now I want to call this whole dinner off. However, I know that will only make my mom feel worse. I know I can't choose for her, but she doesn't deserve them, and if my grandparents so much as say a single negative word about her, I don't know if I'll be able to hold myself back from saying what's on my mind.
No wonder she invited Lilah and Cassius. It is because she is trying to take some of the attention away from her. I can't even blame her for trying to use them as a diversion.
After I make sure everything is in tip-top shape with the help of my boyfriend, we are walking into my room to get at least a little privacy before this dreaded dinner party begins.
"Is Vanessa okay?" Cassius questions with a slight pout. It makes me feel warm inside to know that he cares about my mom just as much as I do.
"I hope she is going to be," I sigh. "Speaking of which..."
I grab my boyfriend's hands and begin kissing up the ink on his arms. His throat hitches, but he happily accepts the affection. His eyes crinkle with love as he looks at me.
"You know I love your tattoos more than anything, but just for tonight, I'm going to need you to wear a long sleeve shirt," I say softly. "I just—this whole thing is already stressful enough and I don't want my grandparents to find any reason to attack you."
"Okay," he nods before giving me a quick, soft kiss. "I understand. You don't have to act like it's the end of the world." He chuckles before walking into my closet to grab a shirt for himself.
After our little crying fest last week, I've begun to appreciate everything I can about my boyfriend. We have both decided that we aren't going to let fright dictate our lives. What's important is to cherish what we have now without constant gloom looming over our heads. Of course, I'm still terrified of Cass's future, but we will get there when we get there. One thing I do know is that Cassius will never stop fighting.
He swiftly pries off his shirt, but not before shooting me a smug wink. I watch in awe as he starts slowly buttoning up the black shirt just to tease me.
