“Just tell me when and where. I want this nightmare to be over.”
“That makes two of us.”
I watch as Keith Stearns heads out of my office, and I’m not feeling so cocky anymore.
On Friday, I manage to convince Kennedy to have lunch with me through a staccato and fragmented balcony conversation. Her mother sat on the glider, flipping through an entire stack of glossy magazines, pretending not to listen but smiling through the entire exchange. Something in me warms at the thought of Kennedy’s mother liking me,rootingfor me. I’m sure my mother would feel the same about Kennedy although that awkward exchange is on the anti-bucket list of things that, for the love of God, should never ever happen. But as fate would have it, halfway down to the restaurant Kennedy requested, I get a call from my mother. I glance at my phone and flip it over before pulling off to the shoulder. It goes to voicemail before I can answer. I glance over at the gorgeous girl seated next to me and smile a drunken sailor grin that only Kennedy and whiskey seem to inspire.
“Sorry. I sort of need to listen to this message.” My mother’s voice garbles through the other end, moody and ominous—something about a water heater, a kitchen fire.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. “It’s my mom. I need to head over to her place real quick. I can drop you off at the restaurant, and you can get started. No use in both of us going hungry.” I wince. “It might take some time before I can get back, though. If you like, I can just drive you home.” I start to turn the car around, and she lays a cool hand over mine.
“Not on your life, counselor. Remember that dirty laundry list of promises you made the other night at the bar? If you have any hope of those things coming to fruition, the least you can do is introduce me to your mother. I want to learn a little more about you. What better way than to meet the parents?”
A dark laugh sputters from me. “Parent,” I correct. “And I’m pretty sure you won’t glean much about me.”
“Oh, come on.” Her finger glides down my shoulder, and I feel that hot line long after she’s through. “At least this way I’ll see what and who shaped you into the dirty talking attorney you are today. All good things right?”
“All good things? I’m not sure about that.” We take off and head for South Lux. A tight knot builds in my stomach all the way there. How much about me do I really want Kennedy to know? It’s a stupid question considering my vision of the two of us spans time immemorial. I want it all with Kennedy, and I suppose if I really mean that, if that’s ever going to happen, we’re going to cross this hurdle eventually. And then, of course, she’ll have to meet my father with that ripe disappointment he carries around for me. Then Abel with that constant pissed attitude, that grudge he seems to carry against me for no real reason. I’ve conceded to the fact it’s reverse psychology—the golden child carrying a distinct disdain for his younger, less achieving brother. He has the approval I crave, the position I worked for, and the paternal accolades I once would have killed to have. But I’m over those long, sweaty, lonely nights. I’ve made my decisions. Some of them very fucking wrong, some involving my younger brother who now sits in a government holding cell because of them. Solomon. I grimace at what’s become of us. I know what I need to do. It’s the exact thing he made me promise that I wouldn’t—tell the truth in front of that entire courtroom and exonerate his unholy name. Abel is scratching and sniffing at the truth. He’s a smart boy. He’ll catch on, and, at that point, I won’t have a choice.
South Lux is drowning in a rainbow of warm colors, wearing autumn’s golden glory like a homecoming queen on parade. The town is small for the most part, a suburb of Richmond, an affluent one at that.
“I should probably preface this by saying my parents have been divorced for close to fifteen years.” She knows they’re divorced. I’ve told her that, but in a few minutes the fifteen years part will start to make a hell of a lot of sense.
We pull up to the old farm road that eventually meanders to my mother’s. Her home, our old family home, sits in a long line of lookalike houses spread out much farther than your average tract homes. This was the hill country where the wealthy preserved their status and, in my mother’s case, her darkest secret, which, in light of my own hush-hush covert misgivings, I can only deduce hers isn’t all that bad. After all, nobody is prison-bound, nobody was murdered, and, at the end of the day, she can sleep at night—if she can find the space.
I slip into the driveway and nod for Kennedy to hop out with me.
“Geez!” She spins taking in the scenery. South Lux shines like a jewel in the fall. My mother’s property in particular is peppered with rusty-leafed liquidambars. It’s peaceful here for the most part, equestrian, where old and new money blend seamlessly. This was an ideal place to grow up. “It’s beautiful out here!” She beams. “God, did you see those trees? And that big, blue sky with the mountain spiking right through it? I just love it down here!”
I’ve never seen Kennedy so happy, so genuinely taken by anything, including me. Normally, this is where my ego would get a little bruised, but I have a morbid pride that she loves the small town that vomited me from its belly.
We head for the door, and I casually block the porch for a second.
“There’s something you should know about my mother”— I glance back at the house, slapping my neck like swatting a fly—“I guess you’ll figure it out soon enough.” I wince into the vague look of confusion she’s shooting at me. “Just know that my mother is a good person. It really stung her when my father left. Some people don’t recover that well when a marriage is broken.”
Kennedy pulls me in by the arm before I can get the key in the lock.
“Hey”—her gray eyes bore into mine, exuding a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long while—“I know exactly how brutal divorce can be. I promise you, I will be the last person to judge any member of your family.” Tears glisten in her eyes. “If anything, this makes me feel closer to you. I’m really sorry your mother had a tough time, but I’m glad she has a son like you who cares about her. That says a lot. It says a lot about you.”
This is usually where I’d inject some self-abasing humor or a sarcastic quip letting her know this was all a part of my evil plan to land her horizontal, but knowing what waits for us on the other side of these walls makes me want to keep my mouth shut. I’m just hoping she still feels as grandiose about me, as nonjudgmental about my mother, once she sees the full story with her own eyes.
I glance down at her silver-spiked heels. “How confidant are you in those shoes?” They’re four inches if not five.
“Are you kidding? I can run a marathon in my Jimmy Choos. I can hike up a hillside if I have to.”
“Good. You just might have to,” I say, giving my code knock over the door, three rhythmic taps followed up by two dull thuds. “I’ll let myself in! Don’t get up,” I shout, unlocking the door and holding it closed just for a moment, inspecting Kennedy with her wide eyes, her expectant, full lips. I want to remember her this way, the last time she sees me through a filtered lens—the only lens I’ve offered her.
“Remember I told you I had a few secrets of my own?” I lean into her as if I might steal a kiss.
“Yes.” Her voice is low and raspy. Her lids flutter as she inches her lips toward mine.
“This is one of them.”
Crime of Passion
Kennedy
Up until thispoint in my life I have been complacent with so many things. I had let my earthly riches become my treasures. My financial wealth flourished while my heart was stripped anemic. I had let the sins of the past erode the very jewel of my existence, the true prize reserved for the fortunate, love. But looking at Caleb here, in front of his mother’s suburban home—his entire body filled with the weight of worry for her—shows the exact compassion, the exact measure of goodwill and caring that I’ve been yearning for all my life. Could Caleb be the one to pull me out of this black and white world I’ve thrust myself in and bring color back through that four-letter word I’ve never thought I was worthy of? To offer up the abundance of life’s true riches like muscle over bone? I believe so. I believe Caleb and I could have the power to hew an entire new heart for the both of us that beats as one, his life and mine merging through the perfect gift that is love. That could happen. And that is not a lie.
