Thin Love(45)

“Keira, what in God’s name are you eating?”

She pulled the phone against her chest and growled at her cousin. “I am going to kick your scrawny little ass.” She knew her mother was still talking, likely asking questions and, sure enough, when she returned the receiver to her ear, the lecture hadn’t even slowed.

“… irresponsible. With your hips, you have to be extra cautious of what you eat and your skin, Keira… how often have we been to see the dermatologist? You know what junk food does to your…?”

“Mother. Please. Leann was joking. I’m not eating anything.” Her cousin’s glare was ridiculous—tightened eyes and a severe line pulling her mouth that made Leann look old. Keira ignored her, then cringed when she heard her mother’s long breath on the other end of the phone.

“Well, that’s good at least. You can tell Leann I don’t appreciate her little joke.”

“Oh, I’m sure she knows that.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” There was something off in her mother’s voice, as though she was waiting for Keira to fill the small beats of quiet that generally were never allowed in their conversations. “Awkward silences are rude, Keira,” she’d always told her. Her mother was waiting, expecting and with her head still muddled by Kona and Tonya Lucas, Keira couldn’t remember what her mother wanted.

“Um, so, why did you call?”

Another long exhale told Keira she’d already made a mistake. Slumping against the bed, she curled her knees to her chest and watched Leann flutter around the room like a bee. “Keira, really? Have you forgotten? Mark was so looking forward to seeing you. He called, of course? I knew he would when Steven told me he gave the boy your number.”

The only comfort came to her behind her closed eyelids. Her mother was meddlesome, nosy, and Steven seemed to agree that Mark was a perfect match for her. He’d apologized when he called three nights before, said he didn’t want her to think he was falling in line with her mother’s plan, and after the awkwardness passed, Keira had shuffled around her discomfort until his laughter relaxed her, until she had half-heartedly agreed to a date. She’d already put it out of her head, too consumed by distracting her thoughts from Kona.

“He called. We’re supposed to be meeting up tonight.”

“What do you mean ‘meeting up’? Isn’t he taking you out on a proper date?”

“Mother, it’s not like that. It’s casual.”

There was a brief pause and Keira could almost hear her mother’s thoughts, the interworkings of agendas, calculating ways in which Keira could make Mark helpless to her “female charms.” Her mother’s term, definitely not hers.

“Hmm, casual isn’t terrible, I suppose.” It took her mother three full seconds to switch tactics and then she was off with a litany of demands and questions. “What will you wear? Make certain your hair is off your neck. It’s one of your better attributes. Men like necks and a lot of skin, but don’t dress like a whore…”

Keira didn’t have the energy to argue. She didn’t care that Mark Burke was a nice guy. She didn’t care if she impressed him or not. The voice on the other end of the phone had her head throbbing at the base of her skull. The constant refrain of direction was old hat, something Keira had heard her entire life. “Pretty girls do this,” and “pretty girls don’t do that,” over and over until her mother was satisfied that she understood. She never had. She never wanted to. That voice felt like a weight around her neck. It crippled her most times, had her forgetting who she wanted to be; it made her doubt she had the stomach to walk away from this life one day. Her mother’s directives had become a fat mass in her gut and the older she got, the bigger that tumor of expectation felt.

Defeated for the moment, Keira could only offer random mumbles of “I know” and the occasional “yes, Mother” as the woman babbled on, dictated, instructed like a sergeant sending his men off to battle. And there was the threat, something dark her mother tried to hide behind sighs, behind veiled words she played off as advice. “Don’t screw this up, Keira” and “Don’t disappoint me” whispered behind each demand. There would be consequences. There were always consequences.

Keira didn’t notice the tears forming in her eyes.

She kept the phone nestled on her shoulder and leaned her head against the mattress, ignoring the instruction, and around her, Leann’s constant bustling went still. She thought her cousin may have left in the midst of Keira’s marching orders, but then a hand on her ankle had her setting down the phone on the floor when she sat up.