Kim Pritekel - Crossing Lines

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CrossingLines

by

Kim Pritekel

Kansas Roberts wiped her forearm acrossher forehead, grimacing at the wetness that gathered. Running a handthrough short, blonde hair, the 17 year old continued to push the mower throughthe thick, lush grass of her mother's front lawn. The teen hated yardwork. She hated much of any kind of work, at all, to be honest. Alas, yard work had become her lot in life since her paying job shut down aweek ago. Her mother had a focus on the whole "responsibility"thing for some reason.

"Kansas?" called Marina Fawkes,Kansas' mother. The blonde kept mowing, her iPod in place, blonde headbobbing to Pat Benatar. She stepped off the front porch, canvas shoesleaving footprints in the newly mowed rows. The petit woman dodged herdaughter's waving arm as the girl got into the music.

Kansas nearly jumped out of her skin asshe was tapped on the shoulder. She whirled, tugging one side of herearphones from her ears. "What?" the girl asked, irritated atbeing disturbed, as well as from the embarrassment of her surprise.

"You have a call. Your dad ison the phone."

"So?" Kansas shrugged, about toput her headphones back on, but was stopped by a hand on her arm.

"Honey, talk to him. This isthe fourth time he's called for you this weekend."

The blonde sighed heavily, cutting theengine of the mower. "Fine." She took her time getting tothe house, not looking forward to the call. Brad Roberts had divorcedMarina and left his family the year before. There had been problems inthe marriage for years, but it had been kept from the Roberts' only child. Kansas had been close to her father, but when she found out he'd been cheatingon her mother, and left them for another woman, she'd wanted nothing to do withhim.

The phone lay on the counter where Marinahad left it. The blonde picked it up, immediately taking on an air ofboredom. "Hello?"

"Hey, kiddo. I was beginningto wonder if you're avoiding me," Brad Roberts said, slight hurt in hisvoice.

"Look, I'm mowing the lawn, so canthis wait?"

"Oh. Okay." Bradpaused for a moment. "Kansas?"

"Yeah?" The blonde toyedwith a pen next to the pad her mother always kept near the phone formessages. Her stomach was doing flip flops, her emotions inturmoil. She missed him desperately, but would never, could neveradmit it. She felt it would be a betrayal to her mother.

"I really want to see you. Please have dinner with me?"

"I'll think about it," Kansassaid, non-committal. "Look, I gotta go."

"Okay. I understand. Kansas?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"Yeah." Without anotherword, the teen slammed down the phone, her green eyes stinging with unshedemotion. She shoved her headphones into her ears and cranked the volumeup on her iPod. "I'm sure you do," she muttered, burstingthrough the front door. As she walked over to the mower, she saw hermother standing at the chain-link fence, talking to a man who looked to be inhis 30s. He was standing in the yard that used to belong to Paul Panzer,who had moved out last fall. She saw her mother turn, indicating with herhand that Kansas should join them, but the teen ignored her, pretending shedidn't see the motion. After a moment, Marina turned back to the man,continuing their conversation.

***

Marina sat across from her daughter,watching the girl play with her dinner, mostly piling it at one end of herplate or the other. "Don't you like chicken anymore?" sheasked, amusement in her voice. The teen shrugged. "How did itgo with your dad on the phone today? You didn't say much about it."

"Not much to tell. He wants todo dinner or some shit like that."

"Watch your mouth."

"I told him maybe. But,"the blonde shrugged again, "I doubt I'll go."

"Why not?"

"Because he's an ass-. . .sorry. He's a jerk."

Marina hid her smile behind her glass oficed tea. What she was about to tell her child was difficult, as shewanted to agree with the girl, and tell her that, yes, her father is a prick ofthe lowest order. Instead, she tried to do the right thing. "Kansas,he's your dad. You shouldn't turn your back on him because of whathappened between us."

Green eyes glanced up at Marina. "You're not the only one he left." Kansas' chair screechedacross the tile floor as she shoved back from the table. "I'mdone." She scraped her leftover dinner into the trash and put herdish in the dishwasher. Marina watched with sad eyes as her only childshoved through the front door of the small house she was able to buy after thedivorce. Her daughter's statement was profound, and Marina was disgustedwith herself that she had always seen Brad's betrayal solely against her. That couldn't have been further from the truth. She sighed, resting hercheek against her closed fist.

Kansas took a deep breath, taking in thehot, summer night air. The neighborhood was abuzz with kids enjoyingtheir last month of freedom before returning to school for another year. Kansas would be a senior this coming year, and she was glad. She wastired of school, tired of the idiots who populated it, and tired of living athome. She couldn't wait to start college in the fall. Granted, shehad no clue what she wanted to do with the rest of her life, though knew itwould have something to do with art, but she knew she had time to figure thatout.

She sat on the porch, glancing over atthe Panzer place when she caught a tiny glow out of the corner of hereye. The guy her mother had been talking to earlier sat on the porch, acigarette dangling between his fingers. He smiled at her, bringing up ahand in greeting.

"Hey," Kansassaid. "You move in there?"

The man nodded. "Yep. Just yesterday. It's nice to be able to sit still for a few minutes, youknow?"

"Yeah. Moving sucks," theblonde agreed, having to do it all too often as a kid, herself.

"Your mom's a nice lady. Goodto know we've got nice neighbors."

"Yeah. The old guy who livedthere before was creepy."

The man chuckled, taking a drag from hiscigarette. "Well, we're not creepy." He held up thesmoke, apparently feeling the need to explain. "My wife won't let me smokein the house, so. . . "

Kansas nodded. "Yeah. Thehouse smells kinda nasty with that stuff." She remembered it all toowell with her father.

The man nodded, smashing the cigarette onthe railing of the porch, then tossing it in a coffee can sitting next tohim. He stood, wiping the back of his shorts. "See you around."

"Later." Kansas turnedback to the night, listening to a dog barking a few streets over. Shesighed, running a hand through her hair. Life sucked.

Kansas flicked on her bedroom light,whipping her tank top over her head as she made her way over to her TV, hittingthe power button and tossing the shirt to the laundry pile. She walkedover to her window, about ready to close the blinds when she noticed a light onin the window across the way. That room had never been used, the windowliterally boarded over when Panzer had lived there. She brought a handup, peeling her blinds down a bit to get a better look.

It looked as though the room were beingset up as an office- a desk, which looked like it was set against the wallright under the window, with a computer on it, and an office chair. Further in the room, Kansas could barely make out a bookcase, though it lookedempty. Then, suddenly, a woman appeared, plopping down in the officechair. She had dark hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail, hertanned shoulders and arms visible from the white tank top she wore. Kansas couldn't see her face as the woman was turned away, bent down. Itlooked as though she were unloading a box, as she sat up, she sat a stack ofpapers and files on the desk.