Page 25 of Recon Rendezvous

“Mom! Dad!” I shout as I enter my parents’ home. They just moved here in the last year or two, this quiet suburb just outside the city. Like me, they love to travel, and I saw the most beautiful places growing up, but we also moved around a lot. Every couple of years, one of them found a new job or opportunity in a new city and we’d pack up and go. But I had my summers in Wisconsin with Ty every year; he and my aunt and uncle were the only other constants in my life.

Tossing my purse on the side table, I wonder not for the first time if this is why I am the way I am. Always the new kid, so I had to be bigger, louder, better, to prove myself. It wasn’t until I moved to Seattle on a whim and met Travis did I want to put down roots. Then I met Zuri, and it was settled. Is it weird to have your longest friendship in your twenties?

“MOOOM!”

“We’re in here,” she calls out, her voice muffled.

I sigh, knowing what I’m going to find. Rounding the corner of their craftsman home, I find them hugged up in the kitchen.They beckon me closer, and I go willingly, sighing as they engulf me in a group hug.

Pulling back, my mom strokes my cheek. “It’s so nice to have you close by. We’re so happy to have you home.”

Dad squeezes my shoulder as he nods. “I agree but remember what we told you.”

Pulling back with a full body shudder and grimace. “I know. Always call, or at the very least, text before I come over.”

Dad nods. “We don’t want any surprises. This is as much for us as it is for you.”

Nodding emphatically, I agree wholeheartedly. “Believe me. I don’t want to walk in on any of that,” I say, waving my hand around, gesturing between them.

My displeasure seems to spur them on. Edna and Gerald Cameron pull each other close and sway to music only they can hear as they gaze into each other’s eyes. Where my dad is tall, his close-cropped hair is more salt than pepper these days. My mom is the short one in the family, her dark hair, cut in a sassy chin length bob, sports a few strands of silver.

“Ugh,” I groan. “I get it. You have the kind of love everyone wants. Doesn’t mean I want to see it but do you.” I raise my hands over my head and shake my imaginary pom poms. “Can we focus on me now, please? You know, your one and only child. The shining beacon of your lives.”

They laugh, separating and mom walks around the marble island to the refrigerator. Pulling out a stool, I glance around the kitchen. My love of color clearly started at home. The kitchen is bright and airy with a vibrant sunflower yellow filling the space and covering the cabinets. No plain white kitchen for these two.

“Of course, Honey. How are you? Are you excited for your big move?” she asks as she pours me a glass of cranberry juice.

My dad takes the seat next to me at the island, as Mom slides the glass over and leans an ample hip against the island.

Tapping a nail against the glass, I consider how to answer. “I’ll be excited once everything is done. Ty and Sasha have been so supportive. They say I can stay for as long as I want, but they’re newlyweds. I need to find a place and get out of their hair.”

“You can always stay here. You know that,” Dad says.

“No, thank you, but they live so close to everything. I’m enjoying being in the city.”

“Well, if that changes, you know you are always welcome here. You know because you’re the shining beacon of our lives.” Mom reaches over to pat my hand, and I smile.

“That’s more like it. You know how to make a girl feel loved.”

Taking a drink, I look up just in time to see them exchange a look before she says, “From where I’m sitting, we’re the only ones.”

Oh, boy. I knew this was coming. “What do you mean?”

“You know we never liked Travis,” she says breezily.

“Wait, youneverliked him?” My gaze ping pongs back and forth between them.

Dad’s gruff voice cuts through the weighted silence. “I wouldn’t say we didn’t like him.”

Mom snorts and mutters, “Speak for yourself.”

Dad continues, “I didn’t like him for you.”

My mouth drops. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

They look at each other and burst out laughing. “We did,” they say in unison.

I frown, thinking back. “No, you didn’t.”

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