Chapter 33 - The Original Mix [https://cdn.midjourney.com/20c9cfcf-9292-46f3-9d5f-945db0d18cf7/0_3.png]

Her voice filled with excitement, Nana’s words rushed out in a tumble. “Of course, honey. I’d love for you to visit. Can you make it up with your class schedule? Are you on break? What about work?”

Now that she was permanently fired, Kennedy had a lot of time to travel. At least, until the cops caught her for what she did to Sandy’s apartment. When they discovered the damage, she was screwed. Her best friend would never speak to her again. Even if Kennedy managed to talk her way back into her Mega Mart job, it was hard to keep steady employment when you lived in a cardboard box under an overpass. Kennedy was definitely heading toward that lifestyle. She didn’t even have a car to hide in. “Can I come tomorrow?”

“Kendie, is everything alright?”

“Yeah.” She could explain the full situation later, in person. That she was a dropout. That she was a stock girl who lived on a cot in a friend’s apartment. Or that she had. That her Mom had evicted her from the family. “I’m okay, Nana. I just miss you. There is room in my schedule, but I don’t have a car.” Oh yeah, and Nana, sometimes, I turn into a bear.

“Can I buy you a bus ticket, Kennedy?”

“Yes.” Just like that. She was going to go see her Nana. At least it would be one more day before she had to find her very own bridge and learn to panhandle. She packed up what stuff she could carry onto a bus. Very little fit into her sad little bag. Sandy could sell everything she left behind. Some money might help to make things right.

Writing the note was the hardest. Sorry, I trashed the place. I did not know that I ate couches in my dreams.

*

Dear Sandy,

Had a party that went bad. I don’t blame you for being pissed. I’ll pay you back, I promise. You can sell the shit I left by the cot if that will help.

I’m sorry,

Kennedy.

*

After folding the letter, she placed it on Sandy’s bed. Kennedy left out the part about it only being a party of one. And that bears get lit on old chicken. And that she was most likely crazy. And that maybe her Mom was right to distance herself because she really was dangerous.

Scratching her arm as she stared down at the pitiful excuse for an apology, Kennedy almost snatched it back up. There was no way she would hurt anybody. In the pictures, she didn’t look angry while she was destroying things. In her bear shape, she was having the time of her life eating her best friend’s beloved couch.

*

The paperwork was waiting for Kennedy at the bus counter, just like Nana had said it would be. With nothing left to lose, she gripped the ticket in her hand as she waited in line to get on the bus. Just like that, she was going to go see her Nana in Tennessee. If she was lucky, visiting her would work out. Closing her eyes, she imagined her dad behind her and remembered the woodsy smell of his aftershave. Kennedy could almost feel his hand come to rest on her shoulder until the forward motion of the line broke the spell.

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*

There was always the mystery of where to put her cup down at Nana’s house. With no coasters in sight, Kennedy didn’t dare put her hot tea down on the polished wood of the coffee table in front of her. So, she just held her cup and saucer while she sat awkwardly on her grandma’s floral couch.

In her delicate hands, Nana cradled a cup, looking as warm and kind as always. She smiled her dad’s smile when she said, “I’m so glad you are here.” Nana had insisted on discussing nothing more challenging than the pleasant weather on the ride to her house. Tea first. Same as always. When she had been little, her cup had been filled with hot cocoa, but Nana had still called it tea as if the container defined the contents.

Kennedy took a sip of her green tea. “I’m sorry I had to ask for help to get here.”

Nana waved it off. “It’s not like I haven’t missed a lot of birthdays and Christmases in the last few years. How is your mom?”

“She still hurts. Every day, she watches her soaps and misses dad.”

“That’s one good thing I can say about your mother. She loved my son.” Behind Nan’s chair, there was a picture of Kennedy’s dad on the wall. It had been years since she had seen his face anywhere but inside of her memory. Smiling at her father, his curly hair surprised her. She had forgotten that. “I remember him being taller.”

“I imagine at seven he seemed to be.” As Nana swirled her spoon in her tea, Kennedy could smell the chamomile. “At least I won’t have to pretend to buy those herbs anymore since you have moved out.”

Her words captured Kennedy’s focus. “What are you talking about, Nan?”

“You know, those good health smoothies she likes to make you.”

“You mean breakfast.”

With a conspiratorial wink, Nana added, “Yes. That woman was the smoothie queen before smoothies were even a thing. Your mother wrote to me after your dad passed away and asked me to buy the herbs for her. She told me she couldn’t afford them anymore on disability and that you needed them. So superstitious.”

“What are you talking about?”

Nana placed her tea on the bare wood of her side table and stood up. “Hang on. I think I still have some of the original. This year, I sent away to find out what was in the concoction she was adding to your breakfast. I know she wasn’t good for your dad’s health, and her insistence on giving you those weird herbs every day made me worry about you. You see on the TV all the time about crazy people feeding their kids things to make them sick.”

As furious as her mother had been when she kicked her out, she’d still had Mr. Bob bring out an entire tin of the herbs that went into Kennedy’s smoothies. The metal box had traveled in Kennedy’s lap to the apartment. Even living with Sandy, she had made a smoothie every morning out of habit. The day didn’t feel like it had started without one.

Nana brought out a familiar container. “I convinced her they had changed their packaging.” She opened the lid and held out the open box of crushed herb mix toward her. The scent was strong and bitter. “Does that smell right to you?”

Kennedy took the box from her and poked her fingertip into the mix. The label on the side of the package looked Eastern European. “It smells identical. I think it is the same. What did you find out? What’s in it?”

“According to your mother, it was essential to your well-being, no matter what the cost. It hurts me to think about what your father paid for that mess over the years. It confuses me to no end how he fell for such a superstitious, fearful person. I would have never let him go on that summer mission trip if I’d known the outcome. He brought her home at the end of that summer like a personal project. They lied to us and said they were pregnant so they could get married.”

“Mom was pregnant?”

“No, honey, she never was. Your dad was just determined to save souls. His problem was he just focused on the one. You won’t remember this, but when you were little, she threw herself into our church and was very devout.”

Kennedy put the lid back on and turned the container upside down, looking for any sign of ingredients.

Nana clicked her tongue. “That stuff is poison, baby. Not the kill you fast kind, but no good for you none the less.”