The Face Behind The Mask

12

The commute from Skyden's downtown office to the McKenzie's home in the suburbs was just over twenty miles, normally, a thirty-two minute drive. But due to the number of bridges and tunnels leading in and out of the city where a fender-bender or a broken-down vehicle could leave a commuter stuck in traffic for an additional twenty minutes, there was no such thing as a normal Pittsburgh commute.

As the sky began to transition from blue to indigo, Skyden took the exit from the interstate and made the turn onto the road that bordered the golf course. She drove up the hill and then onto a tree-lined, winding road leading into her neighborhood.

A neighbor pushing a lawnmower waved, Sky waved back. A couple of little kids in the adjacent yard kicked a soccer ball around, chasing it while they screamed.

Skyden opened the garage door with her remote and pulled into the driveway. She parked her car in the two-car garage, seldom occupied by two cars, and closed the garage door behind her.

When she entered the house, Skyden noticed the absence of dinner aromas. Of course, the kids hadn't taken the initiative to prepare dinner. That was Mom's job. She hung up her jacket and tossed her keys on the entryway table. Brick reclined on the couch in front of the TV, focused primarily on his phone. "Hi, honey," she said.

"Hi, mom."

"Where's your sister?" He shrugged. "You don't know?"

"Uh,... she..."

"Could you put down the phone long enough to answer my question?"

"Yeah." He lowered his phone a few inches. "She went for a run. I'm pretty sure."

"How long ago?"

He shrugged again before adding, "What are we doing for dinner?"

"How do you feel about cereal?" He sighed. Skyden said, "Have a banana or something until Kelsey gets home."

"I already did that," he mumbled.

She dictated a message on her watch. "Hey, Kelsey. It's almost 6:30. You coming home soon?"

"She won't answer when she's running," said Brick.

Skyden knew Kelsey wouldn't but she called anyway. Her maternal nature overrode logic. To no one's surprise, Kelsey didn't respond.

A short stack of mail attracted her attention, particularly a greeting card addressed to Skyden Townsend. She ripped it open and smiled when she discovered an old-fashioned birthday card ornamented with roses on the front and a cheesy birthday greeting - Sorry I Missed Your Special Day. Expecting a joke, she opened the card. In child-like handwriting was scrawled - I'll make it up to you. There was no signature. She flipped over the envelope, searching for a return address. No address. She tossed the card onto the table. 

Her phone rang. Her husband was calling. "Hey, babe," he said.

"Miss you," she replied.

"I miss you, too. So everybody's good?"

"We're good. How about you?"

"Other than my hotel room smelling like insecticide and dog pee, I'm living my best life."

"The glamorous life of a consultant," she said.

He chuckled.

Skyden heard the sound of keys at the front door and a moment later, her sweat-dappled daughter lunged in. "Hey, Kels."

"Hey, Mom." She locked the door. "Got your message. I'm home."

"Hey, Kels," Cameron shouted.

"Oh. Hi, Dad," Kelsey said before jogging up the stairs to her room.

"She just got back from a run," said Skyden.

"That girl never stops." When he added, "Oh, to have that youthful energy," Skyden's eyes slid over to her son, sprawled out on the couch.

"Yeah," she replied flatly.

"I'll see you guys Thursday," Cameron said. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

Kelsey jogged back downstairs, went out to the garage, and returned with a screwdriver. "What are you doing with that?" said Skyden.

"Stupid desk drawer is coming apart again."

"Dad or I could fix that."

As she took the stairs two at a time, Kelsey replied, "Oh, my god. I know how to use a screwdriver."

Skyden bit her tongue and then said to Brick, "See if you can find something good on Doordash."

"I'm on it," he said.

"And not pizza again."

"Okay, okay."

Skyden climbed the stairs harboring a small hope that intense moodiness was reserved for teenage girls only. If Brick manifested his sister's attitude in a year or two, Skyden knew she'd need more than yoga to weather the storm. She made a right turn down the hallway to her daughter's room where she found Kelsey tightening a lock screw inside her desk drawer.

"You doing okay?"

"Fine," she said.

Skyden was hoping for a little more conversation but that's all she got. She noticed Kelsey's blinds were shut tight.

"Oh," said her daughter. "Dad thinks everyone across the street is peeping on me. He told me to shut my blinds at night."

"He's just looking out for you, Kels. That's all."

"Like the Washingtons are sitting in their bedroom watching me every night. Mr. Washington couldn't even see that his trash spilled all over the sidewalk last week. How's he gonna see all the way across the street into my room?"

"You're a pretty teenage girl and sometimes you walk around in your underwear and–"

"Mom! Would you just stop!"

"Hey," said Brick, who stood in the doorway. "You guys in the mood for gyros?"