“How much do you know about Roger Wilde?” Charley asked.
“More than I want to, but probably not even close to everything,” she said. Even Helia’s eyes opened and focused on her with that statement. “I mean, I heard things. I saw him around when, well, whenever my mom brought me here. And I know my mom’s flaws.” She paused, her gaze dropping. “I knew my mom’s flaws,” she corrected quietly. “She liked drugs and sex and to party. The castle was one of her favorite places. Gave me a pretty good idea of the kind of person Roger was.”
Helia blinked, as if trying not to cry, although Kendall didn’t know what she’d said that would cause that. “Do you need anything?” Kendall asked. “Water? Tea? Coffee?”
“If she does, I can grab it,” Joey said. “Why don’t you go share the couch with Helia.”
The suggestion seemed weird, but she wanted to be closer to Helia anyway. The other women didn’tworryher, but she felt more comfortable with Helia. Scooting by Lina and Callie, she sank onto a cushion on the floor beside her friend. Helia’s hand touched her head, then stroked through her short hair.
“You know Collin and Roger have been estranged since Collin walked out at eighteen, right?” Helia asked. Kendall nodded. “There are reasons for that. Personal ones. I won’t go into the details because those are his to share, should he choose to, but I will tell you that when Roger decided his son was old enough to enter his sick idea of manhood, this house was not a safe one for Collin. He has a lot of memories and a lot of demons in this castle.”
“Those men, his brothers, they helped him heal. Find family,” Charley said.
“There are no secrets among them,” Callie said. The other women shot her looks that Kendall had no idea what they meant. Callie huffed. “Not anymore, and that was my fault,” she said. Kendall wondered what kind of secret Philly had kept, but Juliana spoke, pulling her back into the conversation.
“They need to do this together,” Juliana said. “As much for Monk as for themselves.”
Kendall didn’t understand.
“Those men would kill or die for one another—us, too, if it were to come to it,” Lina said. “But what they’ve managed to do together that’s even more remarkable is heal with one another. From their pasts, their scars, their histories.”
Ah, she got it now. Sort of. “This is part of a process for them. Helping Collin fight this demon.”
All the women nodded. Kendall didn’t totally get it. She couldn’t imagine having ties so deep to other people, but she understood. The guys hadn’t so much left the women behind as the women had sent them off to undertake some sort of group therapy.
Helia’s hand stroked through her hair again. Having someone other than her mom show her any affection felt weird. It wasn’t pushy, though. And she sort of liked it.
“Before we start the game,” Juliana said, “I have to say this, and I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, Kendall.”
Kendall tensed.
“Don’t start a sentence that way,” Lina said with a shake of her head. “Now she’s anxious regardless of what you were going to say.”
Lina’s teasing tone eased some of the tightness in Kendall’s shoulders; the face Juliana made dissolved the rest.
“You’re right, that was lame. I’ll just say this,” she said, turning to Kendall. “I’m so sorry about your mom. I lost both my parents in a car accident when I was seven. It sucks.”
Kendall almost snorted at the understatement, but a nugget of appreciation stopped her. Cindy Jacobs was in no way an ideal parent, but the lack of judgment in Juliana’s voice let her know it didn’t matter. Let Kendall know that regardless of what kind of parent Cindy might have been, she was worthy of being grieved, of being missed, of being loved by her daughter.
Her eyes pricked. She turned away, blinking the moisture back. “Thank you,” she said when she had it under control.
“Me, too,” Lina said. “I lost my mom nearly four years ago. I miss her every day.” She paused, then added, “And my father was murdered earlier this year. He and I weren’t close. He wasn’t an easy man. Not a bad one, just…different. I’m only now coming to realize that he parented me in the best way he knew how. I wish I’d figured it out sooner.”
Someone else with a flawed parent. She didn’t know if Lina meant to or not, but she’d laid out a thin connection between them, tying them together through a shared experience. Another wave of appreciation settled inside her. Lina understood what it was like to have a flawed parent and love them anyway. Understood that even flawed parents could love their children.
“I’m sorry, too,” Callie said. When everyone looked at her, she huffed. “If we’re talking about parents, I only have this to say: If you felt your mother’s love, real love, in whatever form, then you’re lucky. My parents are very much alive but are horrible people. They don’t look it on the outside. On the outside, they are pillars of the community—my father is the district attorney, and my mother is a physician. But my childhood was filled with fear and anxiety and doing everything I could to stay out of their way. I haven’t spoken to them since I moved out twenty years ago.” She paused, then added, “I don’tknow why I shared that. It has nothing to do with you or your grief, Kendall.”
Kendall stared at Callie, then blinked. Not to keep from crying this time, but she hadn’t expected that sort of background from this beautiful, put-together woman. She didn’t know what kind of abuse she’d experienced, but she’d seen enough to have a good idea of what it could have been like—even behind the walls of a fancy house.
“Thank you,” Kendall said. Then taking a gamble, she added, “A lot of people judged my mom. She wasn’t the best parent, I know that. But she loved me. In the best way she knew how,” she said, repeating Lina’s words. “A lot of people might think I’m better off without her, that I shouldn’t love her because of everything shedidn’tprovide. But I miss her, and I did—do—love her.” She paused. “Maybe it’s because you’ve all had the experiences you’ve had or, I don’t know, maybe it’s just you. But thank you for seeing my mom as someone who could still love me, even despite her flaws.”
Someone sniffled, she wasn’t quite sure who, but suspected it was Juliana.
“We’re sorry you lost that,” Charley said. She and Joey were identical, but there were a few tiny differences. Charley’s right eyebrow winged up more than her sister’s and had a small scar running through it. She also had slightly different earlobes than her sister.
“And you don’t know us, not yet,” Joey said. “But we will always respect and share your grief. It’s yours, and no one gets to tell you how to feel.”
Helia, her eyes closed on the couch, nodded. “Always,” she said.
