They were a month away from losing their coveted almost ocean-front home when my father offered to buy it from them for a generous amount. The stipulation was they’d continue living in the residence for a fair market price on rent. My father never raised it from the six hundred dollars they first paid that month, and then I allowed Katy to stay there without an increase half a decade after she moved in.
It took Katy’s grandfather ten years to tell his wife how they managed not to lose the house that year, and the entire town heard the argument. Ruth didn’t want a dollar of what she called charity from the Kensington family, but Katy’s grandfather didn’t hold the same grudge. He saw an excellent opportunity and took it. I would never blame the man for doing what he felt was right for his family, even if I’d often wondered if Katy’s grandma ever forgiven him.
Katy calmed a little and her fingers relaxed against my arm. “It was hard when we lost Poppa, but this feels… devastating.”
She sniffled, and I tamed pieces of her hair, taking the washcloth from her head. It’d grown too warm to be of any use. “The two of you were close, Katy. It’s supposed to hurt.” The bad parts were as much of life as the good. Pain, sorrow, and then more hurt. “Losing someone always aches. That’s normal.”
She exhaled. “It doesn’t feel normal. Is this what you felt like when your grandfather died?”
I flinched at her question, but she didn’t notice. “A little,” I lied.
My grandfather created the Kensington family and I would always have him to thank for passing on the legacy, but after I heard the story of what he’d done to Katy’s grandmother and realized he’d been the reason Katy and I could not be together, I never looked at him the same. From that moment on there’d been a gray cloud over our relationship.
“I’m sorry,” she said trying to move off the bed, but I held on tightly, making it hard for her to leave. “I should go.”
“Katy, it’s fine.” Not only should she not be driving in her condition, I rather liked having her so close even if the circumstances were unfortunate.
She twisted and rolled to her back staring up at my ceiling. “We can’t do this, Pierce.”
Here we were again. Back to our regular standoff. “Why not?” The only people who had a problem with Katy and me were Katy and her… grandmother.
She tugged again, trying to get away again. “I shouldn’t be here.”
I relaxed my hand. If she wanted to go so badly, I wouldn’t keep her here. I wasn’t an ogre who chained up a damsel in distress to my castle and refused to let her leave. “You should be wherever you want.” The only person who put the unrealistic expectations on herself was Katy.
No one else in town cared who Katy ended up with. They only wanted her to be happy. The two people who didn’t want Katy to find happiness were her and her grandmother. Ruth said Katy deserved happiness as long as she didn’t find it with me. The old woman would rather her granddaughter carry a grudge between our two families than to find pleasure with someone she loved. And people said rich families were fucked up with closets full of skeletons.
Ruth was probably the one person on the planet who wouldn’t find me an acceptable match.
Katy flipped again, putting us chest to chest, and snuggled closer. I sighed in relief that she wasn’t planning to run away. This time.
“I need to try harder to honor my grandmother’s wishes.”
I placed my chin against her forehead and brought her close, tucking her head into my shoulder. “Katy, she’s gone.”
Did she see this as finally her chance to be free? To make her own choices for her life without worrying about her grandmother’s unnecessary judgment?
Katy grabbed on to my shirt hard, twisting her fingers in the material. “She’s gone. You’re right. Which is why I need to try harder.”
If Ruth was still messing up my chances with Katy from beyond the grave, there was no hope for us.
I spread my fingers through her hair, getting caught in a few snarls, and then tucked a piece behind her ear as she settled in beside me. Her words may have said she needed to flee, but they weren’t matched by her actions as she made no attempt to leave.
I never understood Katy, and it didn’t seem as if I would get clarification.
11
Katy
Sometimes in life it’s perfectly acceptable to sit quietly and allow the world to carry on without you while you watch Netflix or eat a bowl of ice cream. Then at other times, something deep inside of you forces your spirit to take action. I was facing the latter on this particular evening.
The night after a beloved Nanna died was an action night. Everyone knew that. I parked my car on the side of the road, hoping I was close enough to the farmhouse on the other side so anyone driving by would think I was here visiting a friend rather than guessing my true intentions.
My parents made the drive up to Pelican Bay the day after we received the news about Nanna. The three of us spent the morning going over the funeral she wanted. My parents hadn’t been around regularly in years, but that didn’t stop my mother from trying to control every conversation. To make a decision for every question. It angered me to no end, and I needed to expel my frustrations.
Not wanting to make too much noise, I locked my car door by hand and slipped my keys in my pocket before stepping between two tall stalks of corn, which lined the fields on the other side of the farmhouse. Five stalks in and everything grew dark around me. I stopped to survey my surroundings after hearing an extremely loud cricket to my right. No wonder they made scary movies with people coming out of the corn. It was damn horrifying wading my way through a field of corn, but the house I needed to visit sat across the field. I wanted to make sure I covered my tracks.
With determination to get the job done, I continued, doing my best to shimmy between corn stalks so no movement in the field alerted anyone, even at this dark hour. The walk in the terrifying evening through a cornfield, which probably was home to man-eating people science hadn’t found yet gave me time to think about the day’s events.
