Your Hand In Mine

- Kris -

When I rolled out of bed, it was just past nine in the morning. A decent hour to be up, I suppose. Deciding to head to the gym, I found a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, figuring I could take a shower when I got back since I took one before I fell asleep last night.

Once I had change and walk down the step, I grabbed myself an apple from a bowl on the kitchen counter before heading for the front door. My stepfather stop me, though. "Where are you going?" he ask me, pulling his eye from the TV.

"To work out," I reply.

"Be careful," he said, completely occupy by the show he was watching. I did not say anything back, I just left the house

That was how he was. He never really pay much attention to me, even when my mother had first met him. He rarely held emotion, and he was sort of old school, real routine. He never really said much to me, either, he still did not--just the stuff he was obligated to say. I knew he love me and that he was proud of what I had accomplish, though, he just had a strange way of showing it, I guess. I did not go out of my way for him, and he did not go out of his way for me. I tried to, but he just did not seem to notice. I suppose, you could say we had a mutual relationship and got along for the sake of my mother. He made her happy, and that was why I never said anything. I was willing to keep quiet and act happy--although, I think she knew that it was just an act. She would ask me what I thought of him, and I would tell her every single time that I liked him. It was not necessarily a lie.. I did not hate him, but he just never felt like a father to me.

My actual father, I had never met him. Well, I had, I just did not remember it. When I was younger, my mother had told me that one day he just left. She said that I was only two when he walk out on us. It might have been harsh, but at least she love me enough to tell me the truth. She told me that she was the reason why he was not there anymore, but over time I had learn that I was probably why he left. I remember spending day and day waiting for him to come home, too, but he never did. My mom would alway tell me--as nicely and as best as she could--that I was wasting my time, that he was not ever going to come back. And she was right. He never did walk through that door. I had eventually stop waiting around, figuring I would be fine without him.

And I was. My mom love me and took care of me. She was alway there for me, whether I need a band aid or she was watching one of my hockey game. I don't know what I would do without her..

I got in my car, and ten minute later, I was at the gym. I ran as hard as I could, for as long as I could. I did not think about much, I never did. And I love that feeling. Then I lifted and did some other stuff for about an hour before I head back to my parents' house.

"How was the gym?" my mom ask as I walk into the kitchen, running a white plate under the water.

I gave my shoulder a shrug. "Fine, I guess. Do you need some help?" I ask her as I point to the plate in her hand.

She hand it to me, and I grab towel to dry it off.

"I hope you didn't have any plans today. I forgot to mention it last night, but Angelique's birthday party is today. She turned eight yesterday. She even called earlier while you were at the gym and wanted to see if you were coming; you're her favorite cousin, you know."

"I know," I state. "Marc-André called me on my way back here and wanted to know if I wanted to go grab something to eat in a bit. I told him I would, but I guess I could call him back say that I can't. I mean, we can always go out to eat tomorrow."

My mom smile at me, completely stopping what she was doing. "The world should have more people like you, Kristopher. Now, go on. Go get a shower and change. It's already noon, her party starts in an hour."

I let the towel fall from my hand and onto the counter, heading over to the step. When I got to my old room, I called Flower and told him that something important came up. He understood and said that we could do something another time. When I hang up with him, I got a quick shower and change into some shorts and my black Chuck Taylor shirt, putting my Pirates hat back on my head. We left shortly after and arrived at a restaurant somewhere in the city.

"Kris!" she said, running toward me.

"Joyeux anniversaire, Angelique," I told her, reaching down to return her hug.

"I missed you. I haven't seen you in a year!"

"It's already been a year? You've grown so much since the last time I saw you. You have a boyfriend yet?" I tease her.

She gave me a look that said 'what are you? stupid?' "No."

"That's my girl. And you remember why, right?"

"Because you would kick their ass, I mean butt," she correct herself quickly.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Don't swear. Your mother wouldn't let me near you if she heard you talking like that. But, yes, that's correct."

She had me bend down to her level. "Shit, shit, shit," she giggle. I laughed again, but put on a straight face when her mom came over and ask what was going on.

"I was just telling him a secret," Angelique spoke up. "Come on, Kris. You have to tell me funny stories about Pittsburgh," she said, dragging me behind her. She alway stuck by my side. And whenever there was a family event, you could alway find the two of us together. If you found one, you found the other.

~!@#$%^&*()_+

I had been sitting in the dark at my kitchen table since twelve thirty in the morning, at least. It was four sixteen now--that was what the microwave told me. And just as the number move to read four seventeen, someone flick on the light.

"Honey, what's wrong?" my mother ask me, pulling out a chair and sitting down beside me after pouring herself glass of water, which is probably why she was up in the first place.

I picked my head up from where it was resting on my arm and gave her the best fake smile I could. "Nothing," I answer, shaking my head.

She put a hand on my shoulder, lightly rubbing it. "You're my son, I raised you. Do you really think that you can fool me? Besides, you've been sitting down here in the dark for God knows how long."

"I don't know what to do," I told her.

"Did you talk to her?" she question.

My head shot up the whole way as I straighten up in my chair. "How.. how did you know it's about a girl?"

"Why else do guys stress themselves out? If they're mad at a friend, it'll only last a few days before they apologize and go on like nothing ever happened," she told me. "You love her, don't you?" my mom said with a bit of a smile.

"More than I've ever loved anyone else," I smile, for real this time. My mom just gave me a knowing look. "Long story short, she thinks I cheated on her. And I haven't talked to her since February second," I explain.

She was silent, seeming to think about what she was going to say. "Then maybe that's what you should do--talk to her, Kristopher. Because I can see that you love her, even if you wouldn't have told me. And she probably misses you and loves you just as much, you know," she pause. "She must be something special, though. You always did build a high wall around your heart."

"She is special," I confirmed, spinning my empty cup on the table, staring dead ahead at the wall.

I saw her tilt her head to the side. "Then why haven't you talked to her? Why are you here, in Montréal? Not that I'm not happy to see my only child, but I would rather you be happy, even if you that meant you being in Pittsburgh."

"Because she could be happier without me," I sigh.

"How do you know that? You're a great man, Kristopher. You're kind, selfless, thoughtful. You're intelligent.. courteous. You're everything a mother would want her son to be," my mother said. "She could be just as upset as you. And if she loves you as much as I think she does, she wants nothing more than to be with you."

"How do you know that she wants to be with me again? How can you know that?" I ask, finally setting my cup down.

"I don't," she immediately said. I had hope that I was not going to receive that answer, but it was the truth. "But don't you think that your happiness is important, too?"

I did not say anything for a moment. "Yeah.. But I'd rather her be happy than me."

"You should go, go back to Pittsburgh. Get her back and don't let her go," my mom told me.

"I can't," I sigh. "I barely see you anymore. Same with all my friends. I can't just leave already, I've only been here for a week."

"Yes, you can," she smile. "We'll still be here when you get back. Go make yourself happy, baby," she said.

I gave her a big smile. "Je t'aime, mère," I said, standing up and giving her a hug. I let go of her and grab my car keys. After a few step, I stop, looking back and giving her a small smile.

"Je t'aime, aussi, Kristopher." With that, I walked out the front door and got in my car, heading for the airport.