“Have you spoken to Lana yet? How is she?”
“Oh, she’s doing fine, just getting her place packed up and spending time with her family,” he replied. “She may make a stop up here before heading to Hamby, but I’m not sure.”
He walked into the kitchen and rinsed out the empty coffee mug, then placed it in the dishwasher.
“When did you start that?” Maureen asked, amused, as she wiped a thin layer of cream cheese on a bagel.
There was a complete breakfast platter, ready and waiting, with pancakes, waffles, bacon, and fruit, that sat practically untouched before them.
“Lana, she’d have my head otherwise,” he replied as he dried his hands with a paper napkin.
Maureen watched his face as he talked about her, a familiar, painful ache tightening her chest. Even now, after all the wreckage, his eyes stilllit upwhenever he said Lana’s name. It wasn't just a flicker; it was a deep, steady warmth that softened the new, hard lines around his mouth, erasing years of grief in an instant.
A memory, sharp and sudden as a paper cut, lanced through her: Vincent, decades ago, looking at her with that same unguarded, absolute adoration, as if she were the only person in the world. The nostalgia evaporated instantly, leaving a cold, suffocating wave of regret in its wake. Panic clawed at her throat. She wished, with a desperate, nauseating lurch, that she had just left him alone.
If she had just let him have his happiness with Lana from the very first, maybe none of this... thisdisaster... would be happening right now. But shehadn't. And she knew, with a sickening certainty, that the impending, toxic fallout with Kim was a shit-storm that would rain down on her for the rest of her life.
Kayden, oblivious to her internal spiral, tossed his napkin into the garbage and then started walking back toward his room,a silent, final retreat. The sight of his back, of him walking away from heragain, was more than she could bear. It broke her resolve. It had to be now. She spoke, her voice thin but transparent in the heavy silence, readying herself to finally,finally, confess her sins.
“Kayden...” she started.
He stopped in his tracks and raised his hand, which prevented her from continuing. He turned back to her, ice blue eyes over his shoulders, meeting hers.
“Mom, not now. We can discuss everything over dinner later. Let’s go see this specialist in good spirits, and pray that he has some good news for me. Okay?”
Maureen nodded. Although she was on the precipice of losing him, she had to do what was right this time and come clean with everything, regardless of the repercussions. The lies and secrets stored in the dark were coming to light, destroying everything she thought she was protecting. As Kayden disappeared into his room, she pulled her cell phone from her purse and hit redial. “Heathcliff ” showed across the screen, and after two rings, he picked up.
“Did I wake you?” she whispered into the phone.
“No, I was already up,” he lied.
The truth was, he’d spent all night drinking after getting the ax from Hamby P.D. the day before. The Chief had finally made a decision, and it wasn’t in his favor. Now he’d be a laughing stock in his former department and the rest of the town, for that matter.
“Will you come to New York? Please, Heathcliff? I know you said you had to work, but I don’t think I can do this alone,” she pleaded.
“Sure,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes awake.
“Thank you,” she beamed.
“DON’T MENTION IT,”Heathcliff replied, then hung up the phone.
He crawled out of bed in his dark bedroom and grabbed his lower back. He’d only been out of work for twelve hours so far, and it felt as if his body was rusting on him already. He kicked empty beer bottles out of his path as he lumbered his way into the bathroom and turned on the sink. I guess breaking up with her face-to-face would be the right thing to do,he thought, as he wet his toothbrush and got ready to pack a bag—a small one.
BOXES CLIMBED HALFWAY upthe wall, and Lana paused with her hands on her hips, panting as she surveyed the chaos. She’d spent the better part of the morning boxing up the townhouse and arranging for a do-it-yourself moving service to transport everything from Florida to Georgia. She wasn’t completely finished and still had several more days’ worth of work to do, so when Carmen offered to come over and help, she agreed after first declining the offer. She was pissed that her best friend hadn’t given her a heads-up about the dinner from hell, and wanted the time alone to pack and think.
After box twenty-five, she called Carmen back and decided to stop focusing on her personal drama. Besides, she really needed help with the endless cardboard village growing in the living room. She would be over soon, and Lana anticipated that not much work would get done if Carmen kept the conversation about Sam.
That would be off-limits because the plan was to transport the boxes into the metal crate outside her apartment. Not to talk about Sam and the drama that came with him. The crate needed to be packed and ready to go whenever the movers decided to arrive, and that was Lana’s goal. Get it done and fast.
After that, a bottle of wine would be opened, and bad television was all she wanted to discuss. Lana wiped sweat from her brow and grabbed the bottle of water on the edge of her computer desk, taking a deep swallow. The cool water cleared away the dry cobwebs that formed, and she sighed. No drink could beat water when you were that thirsty.
She tossed the empty bottle into the garbage can in the corner of the room, then picked up a box with the words “kitchen” scribbled in permanent black ink. She carried it into the small space and admired the untouched stainless-steel appliances. She didn’t even have enough time to use them before she was whisked back to Hamby and realized she wouldn’t really miss the townhouse once she left. No bonds were formed there, no dinners, no movie nights—nothing—just her wallowing in endless tears and agony.
She set the box down on the kitchen counter and noticed the corner of an envelope sticking out of the utensil drawer. She hadn’t seen it before, having been so busy, and pulled it out, inspecting the return shipping address. “Nurses without Borders” was the name in the upper left corner, the travel nursing program she had wanted to join. She frowned, walked into the living room, and threw it on her desk—probably just a solicitation.They usually sent them every few months when you start the volunteer process, but you never finished it.
The sound of the doorbell snapped her attention away from the letter. She looked up at the ceiling and sighed, readying herself mentally for Carmen. She walked through the maze of boxes toward the front door and took another breath as sheturned the knob. When the door swung open, Veronica stood there with a warm smile and a dinner plate in her hand. Her mother was good at anticipating her needs that way. Lana smiled back, then looked over her mother’s shoulder, thinking maybe she and Carmen had arrived together, but she was alone.
“Well, you gonna let me in, baby, or what? This food is getting cold.” Veronica asked as she pushed her way in.
