Heartburn: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) by Tarrah Anders (100 best novels of all time TXT) 📕

So selfish.

And over the years, continued to be, because it terrified me to talk to him. I just assumed that all this time, my parents told him the bad news. Boy, was I wrong. He’s been wondering all these years about his unborn child. I feel like a complete dick. There are so many things that I could have done different over the years.

I know that our small conversation at the diner will lead to more conversations, at least, I hope. I know that the past cannot be erased, but now I know that I need to be honest and prove to those that I’ve wronged—that I’ve changed and amounted to something, to everything that I was ever led to believe that I was not.

I raise my fist and knock on the front door.

I shift my weight from one foot to the other with my arms awkwardly hanging. There’s no way to stand with your arms that would look normal. The wait for someone to open the door is unnerving.

I pull my phone out of my back pocket. This is the agreed upon time that we discussed over the phone. Where are they?

I press the doorbell again, and anxiously wait, again.

“Oh my God. I knew that was you when you walked up here!” A voice from behind me says.

I whirl around and come face to face with the neighbor’s daughter.

“Hi,” I reply just as the front door to my parents’ house opens.

“Oh Geri, how nice to see you. How is your mother doing?” My mother steps out of the house and beside me.

“Hello Mrs. Mason, mom is doing fine. She’s progressing in her physical therapy and is able to walk down the driveway and back without help.”

“Oh, that’s splendid. Please tell her I said ‘hello’, will you?”

“Of course. Good to see you, Kindra. I hope we can catch up sometime, now that you’re back in town.”

I nod, not knowing what else to say.

“Bye now.” My mother says.

I give Geri a wave before turning back to my mother in the entryway of her home, my childhood home.

“Please come in, let’s not let out the cool air.” My mother says waving me inside.

I slowly walk inside and look at the photos on the walls. There are years of happy images of my father and my mother. Travels, occasions, and triumphs. There are no images of their only daughter that I can see. It’s as if they’ve erased me from their lives.

A twinge of hurt fills me as I walk further inside and see that on the fireplace mantel is a single photo, a school photo from when I was in kindergarten surrounded by prayer candles.

I point at it and turn toward my mother.

“Why, out of all the photos from my childhood, this one?” I ask.

“Your father is the one who chose it,” she replies solemnly.

“Why my kindergarten photo?” I ask again.

I look at the photo again. I’m missing my front tooth, my hair is in pigtails, I’m wearing overalls with a pink, yellow, and white striped shirt, and freckles dot across my nose and cheeks. I was a cute kid, your typical child of the early nineties and full of spunk, even at the age of five.

“Honestly honey, I’m not sure why your father does a lot of the things that he does.” She shakes her head. “Would you like something to drink? Maybe some tea?”

“I don’t drink tea, never have. I’ll take some ice water though.” I tell her, following her into the kitchen that still looks like I remember.

Brown and yellow flooring, brown wooden cabinets, and light yellow walls. This kitchen has always been so hideous.

She hands me the water and motions to sit in the living room.

It's surreal being here, and it shouldn’t be. I should feel at home here, however there is nothing about this house anymore that reminds me of those types of comforts. This home is theirs; it’s not and never has been mine.

“So, tell me what have you been doing since you … well, since you left?” My mother asks.

“Shouldn’t we wait for dad to come home?”

“He mentioned that you spoke with him,” she says, shaking her head.

“I did. I went there out of impulse and with no plan. It wasn’t the best of a welcoming,” I explain.

“He mentioned that you weren’t making the most sense. That you were saying something about a hospital and that you’re better now.”

“I was nervous to see him.”

“He wants nothing to do with this meeting.” She says before taking a sip of her beverage.

“This meeting?” I ask.

“His words, sweetie. You know how he gets when he’s made up his mind about things, he hasn’t changed. So, what have you been up to all this time? Why haven’t you called, or even visited?”

“I left here, as you know, and well, I went to the city. I stayed low key, got a job and put myself through school, nursing school to be exact. I worked at a hospital in the city and felt that a change of scenery from the city was a good idea and I saw that the hospital here was hiring, and now I’m working at the hospital here.”

“Really? And you did all this how?” she asks with a hint of surprise in her tone.

“I had a few odd jobs here and there. I was a personal assistant to a financial manager in the city. I also did some nannying while I did nighttime rotations.”

She looks at me skeptically.

“And why come back here?” She asks.

“Change of scenery.” I repeat.

“Not that you’re here to prove yourself of anything?” she probes.

“Well, yes and no.”

It’s silent for a moment before she speaks again.

“Why haven’t you called?”

“Dad said that I was a disgrace and that you guys wanted nothing to do with me. I messed up that night, in a major way, and I just left figuring you felt the same way. I know that I wasn’t the easiest of teenagers, and I’m