My stepmother sat to his left, dressed in her usual designer digs, her blonde hair extensions perfectly curled, and her perfectly plastic boobs in the air. Her make-up was caked on, and it immediately made my think of the girls on that show Jade loved. What was it called? Oh yes, Jerseylicious.

“Anthony.”

I called my father by his real name because to me he’d never been anyone else. I sure as hell couldn’t call him ‘dad’, and calling him ‘father’ meant I had to acknowledge that I was his offspring. So I stuck to ‘Anthony’.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, gesturing for me to sit down. “Don’t you greet your stepmother anymore?”

I took a seat opposite the wicked witch herself, and gave her the same bored expression she was giving me. “Shelly.”

“Kennedy, so nice to see you.”

Liar. It was no wonder my father married her. If her blowjobs were anything like her acting then it finally made sense.

Lucy came in, and deposited a roast chicken in the center of the over-decorated table, and left to bring the rice, and steamed vegetables. Whatever my father had to discuss must’ve been important if he’d asked Lucy to make such a meal, especially considering Lucy was the only one who ever ate at home. My father preferred eating out, as did Shelly.

“Thank you, Lucy. You may leave us now.”

I ground my teeth together at his dismissive tone, but refrained from talking. The sooner I got this over with, the better.

“I’m sure you must be curious as to why we’ve asked you here.” My father smiled as Shelly put food on his plate. He’d never smiled at me. Not once.

Shelly dished up for herself, eyeing me across the table. I didn’t touch the food. I was too keyed up to eat, not to mention that I hadn’t planned on staying here long enough to eat anyway.

Neither of them said anything for a beat, and then my father broke the awkward silence. “Do you want to tell her, sweetheart?” His eyes were fixed on his wife.

“Are you sure? I think it would be better if it came from you darling.”

The only thing more sickening than her squeaky voice was her term of endearment for the man sitting next to me.

“No, honey,” he chuckled ruefully. “I think you should be the one to tell Kennedy our news.”

“Well okay then.” Shelly dropped her cutlery, and turned her fake grin up a notch as our eyes met. “We’re pregnant.”

I stared at her, my mind trying to comprehend the bombshell she’d just dropped. My mouth was dry, and I couldn’t get my voice to form a single word.

“Isn’t it great,” Shelly gushed, not fazed at my inability to respond. She placed a hand on her stomach, and smiled at my father. Surprisingly, he looked…happy?

No.

Words.

I had nothing.

So I stared at them like a complete fool.

“We’ve already cleared out Charlie’s room for a nursery,” my father said. “It’s too early to tell, but knowing my luck, it’s a boy.”

Shelly giggled, and I was finally able to grasp what my father had just said. The mention of my brother was enough to knock the wind out of me.

“Wait, what did you just say?” My voice came out louder than I’d intended.

“I said I think it’s a boy,” my father replied, looking annoyed that I’d even asked.

“No, before that.”

Shelly huffed. “Honestly, Kennedy. You’d think with all the money your father pays for you tuition you’d at least have learned how to listen with both ears.”

I balked at that. My father didn’t pay for my tuition. He had no idea how I was paying for school, and I had no doubt that if he knew he’d be pissed. Still, he didn’t bother correcting stepmommy dearest.

“We’ve cleared out Charlie’s room, and we’re going to use it as a nursery. Your bedroom is already a guest bedroom,” my father said.

My heart pounded painfully in my chest. “You got rid of his stuff?”

Growing up, Charlie had always been my fathers’ favorite, and now I couldn’t bear the thought of my father wiping away his memory like he’d never even existed. There were many things I would tolerate from my father, but having him disregard Charlie so bluntly wasn’t one of them. It was a slice to my already battered heart.

“Yes. Lucy took it all to Goodwill over the weekend,” replied Shelly.

I swallowed the imaginary cotton ball that had lodged itself in my throat, and blinked back the rapid onslaught of tears. This couldn’t be happening. I needed to leave, but something stopped me. Maybe it was a sense of loyalty to my brother, or maybe it was my need to cut my ties with these people once and for all. I didn’t know. All I was sure of was that it’s what made me push my chair back, and stand.

“Kennedy, where are you going?” My father asked. His scowl didn’t scare me anymore, and that said something.

“I can’t believe you.” My voice betrayed the turmoil wreaking havoc with my heart. I turned around, ignoring my fathers’ “where are you going?” and raced up the stairs. Thankfully I’d worn jeans, and ballet pumps instead of heals, and a dress. I couldn’t imagine running up the marble staircase without slipping, and kissing the floor.

I stopped in front of my brother’s old room, my hand shaking as it twisted the knob. My fathers’ footsteps echoed not far behind me, but I didn’t care. Not in that moment. Not ever.

The dark grey walls that used to be adorned with posters of Charlie’s favorite bands, certificates, and medals were bare. His built-in closets, and drawers stood empty, and not a single piece of his furniture had been left behind.

I sucked in a lung full of air, and still struggled for breath. His room was empty…like…like…he was never even here.

“How could you,” I whispered, aware that my face was damp with tears. I spun to face my father, the man who had discarded me from the moment I was born, and blamed me for my mothers’ death. “Do you feel nothing? Or are you happy to have a baby on the way to replace the son you lost?”

My fathers’ eyes turned cold - well colder then they usually were when he looked at me - and his nostrils flared. “Be careful how you speak to me,” he warned angrily. “I am still your father.”

Shelly had joined us, but she was smart enough to stay behind my fathers’ bulky frame. At least she would hear what I had to say before I left this Godforsaken hellhole.

I snorted. “You haven’t been my father in nineteen years. But you loved Charlie, I know you did, and yet you’ve thrown out his things like he meant nothing to you.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I put up my hand to silence him. That seemed to anger him more.

“I accepted that you didn’t want me, that you didn’t love me,” a sob broke free, “but Charlie deserves better.”

Before he could respond, I pushed past him into the hallway. I looked back at Shelly, and that’s when it caught my eye - the necklace around her neck. It was a beautiful white gold chain, with two delicate hearts intertwined and joined in the center by a ruby. I recognized it from the pictures Charlie had shown me of our mother. She was beautiful, and Charlie had told me everything about her that he could remember. How she used to sing to him at night, and read him bedtime stories. Thinking about that made the ache in my chest intensify, and along with it came the discernment that I had nothing left of this life.

I stepped forward, and gripped the necklace in my hands. “This belonged to my mother,” I snapped. I tugged the necklace, and when it broke, I clasped it in my hands like it was a life source. Shelly gasped, but my back was already turned as I walked back towards the staircase. I snatched the one and only picture of me, my mother, and Charlie from the wall beside the stairs, holding it to my chest. Lucy was standing at the door, and the sight of her was the final straw that broke me.

She stopped me before I could leave, and whispered in my ear so that my father, and Shelly wouldn’t hear. “Your brothers’ things are boxed up, and in my garage. I’ll let you know when you come get them, okay?”