Ready to Play - Part 1

Auburn, KY

Kinsey upsets her mother seventeen seconds after arriving.

Naomi manages to look flustered and furious at the same time. “Why wouldn’t you want to stay in your old room?”

Kinsey puts down her backpack. The porch looks the same. The house looks the same. But she’s not. “Just seems a little childish, that’s all. You’ve got the space; I figure I’d be in the guestroom. Besides, you don’t have to keep my room as ‘my’ room anymore, I’ve moved out. You could use it for your…you know, arts and crafts.”

All of this is true. The house is the biggest in Auburn, with Marshall the biggest influence.

But there’s truth, and then there’s optics. “It was good enough for eighteen years,” says Naomi quietly, although she doesn’t tend to stay quiet, not if she doesn’t get her way, not if it’s just family.

Kinsey smiles. This is where you draw the line. This is where you get separation. “I’ll be comfortable in the guest room. I’m a guest, right?”

Naomi looks astounded. “You’re our daughter.” She calls to her husband for support. “Marshall.”

He appears from the study, beams at Kinsey. “Hey, Birdie.” He opens his arms wide, and she walks into them. “Hi, Daddy.”

“She doesn’t want to stay in her room,” says Naomi. “And I spent forever getting it ready.”

Marshall raises an eyebrow and then says, “So where you sleeping, Birdie? In your car?”

Kinsey laughs. “Guestroom,” she replies. She looks into her father’s tanned face. “If that’s okay with y’all.”

Marshall gives her a squeeze and then he nods. “Perfect.”

“But I- “

Marshall holds up a finger to silence his wife. As if he might have such control, as if he’s in charge. And who knows, perhaps he is. Maybe things have changed since Kinsey visited last. “Honey.” He walks over, kisses Naomi’s cheek. “It’s fine.”

Naomi’s face grows flushed. “Honey,” she says, not as sweetly. “You agreed with me that Kinsey would stay in her old room.”

Kinsey closes her eyes, listens to the whir of the ceiling fan. Ten in the morning and it’s already too hot outside. Maybe, it’s about to get hot inside as well.

“You make our house a home,” Marshall tells his wife. “But maybe we don’t have to keep it like a shrine. Look,” he says gesturing at their daughter. “She’s all grown up!” He shakes his head mournfully, and suddenly he looks all of his fifty years. “Twenty-one.” And then his face brightens. “I could do with a wise, young head like yours on my campaign. How ‘bout you change your mind?” He puts his hands in his pockets, and Kinsey knows that her father is looking for his pack of cigarettes, even though he quit before she turned double-digits.

“Sorry,” Kinsey says. And she is sorry. Kind of. After everything, they’re still her parents. Still Momma and Daddy. And no one’s perfect, right?

“We need to talk about the photographer,” says Naomi briskly.

Marshall nods. “Tomorrow, right?”

Naomi exhales. “He’s coming tomorrow, we’re talking about it today.” She gives Kinsey an appraising look and then says something to Kinsey that makes her feel far less sorry than a few moments before.

Sorry-not-sorry. Instead of replying to the question, Kinsey picks up her backpack and says, “I’m gonna go freshen up.”

As she makes her way upstairs, she listens to her mother.

“I worked hard on getting the room ready.” The comment is said to the father but surely aimed at the daughter.

Ungrateful Kinsey. Maybe things haven’t changed one bit since she visited last.

Keep walking.

Her father says something in that tone that he’s making a joke, but there’s no sign that Naomi finds it funny.

Kinsey walks past her old room and finds the guestroom at the end of the hall.

Ah, family. Ah, Kinsey’s family. It’s going to be a long visit.