Then Kiss Me Read Free

Grudgingly, I got out of the tub and toweled off.  I threw on a pair of clean jeans and a Godsmack t-shirt and dried off my hair, letting the wet brown curls cascade down my shoulders.  I walked, barefooted, to the kitchen and sat down at the table.  I suppose I should’ve offered to help.
    Mom smiled with some difficulty.  “Darling, you’d feel better about yourself if you made— ”  She broke off when she caught glances from both dad and me.  “Never mind, hon.  You’re tired.  Relax.”
    We all ate dinner mostly in silence.  Mac chattered off and on, and the baby gurgled with every bite of food.  He was still learning, I realized, and wondered how he could possibly grow when he seemed to get more food on his face and the tray than he did in his mouth.
    After dessert (mom’s specialty was dessert, so it was surprising I hadn’t grown up a fat ass), I bowed out, claiming I was fatigued from the trip and the events of the day.  It was partially true.  In reality, though, I was more worn out from all the familial contact.
    I dug out my sketch pad and pastels and doodled, lying on the bed, knowing I’d gone from a bad situation to an almost worse one.  I finally turned off the lamp and lay my head on the pillow.  But I didn’t fall asleep for the longest time, even though I was exhausted.  The life I had known in the short time I’d lived as an adult was now gone, and I lay there trying to figure out how to fix it.
     

 
     
    Chapter Two
     
    I WOKE UP early the next morning.  It was barely light outside , the early April morning resisting the sun .  I threw on a sweater and slippers, knowing it would be chilly outside, and went out back.  I sat in a lawn chair and breathed in the crisp, clean air (un-Denver air) and watched the sun rise.  I found out quickly that there is nothing like a sunrise in Winchester, the vivid reds and oranges fighting each other to be seen on the clear horizon.  Winchester might have been tucked in the foothills, but to the east, just past Colorado Springs, lay miles upon miles upon miles of some of the flattest land you’ve ever seen.  So the sunrise was spectacular, and watching it gave me hope.
    Before that, though, I sat there in awe of nature, feeling even more helpless in my own existence.  But I did some thinking and some superficial soul searching (yes, I assure you—there is such a thing), and I vowed to myself that I would get a job— any job —so I could move to my own place.  I guessed what people had always said was true—you can never go home again.
    After the sun was full on the horizon, I got up out of the chair, feeling quite a bit better, clearer, purer, and—as I mentioned—hopeful.  I went back in the house and found everyone up.  I smelled freshly brewed coffee and frying bacon, and my mouth started watering.  Dad had the newspaper on the table.  He glanced up from the front page.  “Morning, honey.”
    “Hey, dad.”   I hugged him.  Dad had light brown, almost blonde hair, just like Karen, but I had his nose.  My nose, like dad’s , was just a little too big…like it was one size too large.  It was like wearing a pair of size ten pants when your body’s a size eight.  You look like you’re swimming.  Well, I looked like I was breathing too much.  T he nose…it looked good on dad.  It still looked large, but he was tall and striking, and he could pull it off.  I couldn’t.
    Well, maybe that was my confidence issues talking.
    Karen’s two kids were playing on the floor just outside the dining area in the living room.  “Karen spent the night?” I asked dad.
    “Yes, honey.  She does at least once a week.”
    Trouble in paradise?   Why else wouldn’t she be home with her hot hubby?  I bit my tongue, though, and walked over to Mac and Jack.  I forced my mind to stop trying to come up with a smartass name to call the two little guys, but weird funny rhymes kept drifting through my head.  Some were obvious (