by V. K. Powell
“If you’d asked me this morning, I’d have said definitely. Now I’m not so sure. I really want to understand what happened between us.”
Jazz shook her head.
“Say it, sis.”
“You’re a new captain with a great assignment. You can’t let Kerstin Anthony or anyone else interfere with your future. I saw the look on your face when Simon said you deserved the promotion. You’re already afraid of screwing up. Don’t let this woman be your excuse.”
Jazz had hit the nail squarely on the head. Bennett feared being an embarrassment or disappointment to her family and especially to the memory of her father. She’d struggled for years to cement her place in the department. This was her chance to silence all doubters on her way up the promotional ladder.
Jazz rose and placed her hand on Bennett’s shoulder. “Do what you need to do. I’ve always got your back, no matter what.”
“Thanks, and congratulations again. I’m very proud of you, Lieutenant Perry.” She gave Jazz a playful shove. “But don’t think I’ll take it easy on you because you’re my sister.”
Jazz mock saluted before walking back toward the house.
Bennett loved her sister as much as her own life, but Jazz had been hurt too badly in childhood to completely trust anyone with her heart. She’d understand Bennett’s unresolved feelings for Kerstin when she faced her own feelings about her mother’s death.
Bennett watched the koi jump for insects on the surface of the pond and willed the unsettled feelings for Kerstin back to their hiding place, but they no longer fit. How could she reconcile the need to prove herself professionally with the emotional call to heal her heart? Both tasks deserved her full attention.
Chapter Two
Kerstin texted her aunt Valerie from outside her mother’s Central Park high-rise as the streetlights around her flickered on.
Can you meet me in the lobby?
She was exhausted from ping-ponging between New York and Greensboro and the emotional challenges at either end, and today was only the first round. Her phone beeped with Valerie’s response.
Excellent timing. She’s napping.
Kerstin scanned the height of the building with its imposing steel, granite, and glass façade. When she’d moved here as a teenager, the building served as her prison; the huge panels of glass were her windows on the world, the steel dividers her bars. Central Park, just across the street, provided a personal hideaway with wooded areas, grass, lakes, and playgrounds, basically a giant oasis in a city too chaotic for her small-town upbringing. She shook off the conflicting feelings that often accompanied her return and walked toward the entrance.
The concierge offered to assist with her small overnight bag, but she waved him off as Valerie emerged from the elevator. Her petite stature belied her ability to deal with a physically and emotionally difficult patient. Valerie had been a godsend, especially when Kerstin was away on business or needed a break. Their arrangement allowed Valerie to live in the condo free and receive compensation denied her by the family matriarch because of Valerie’s unorthodox lifestyle—lesbian out and proud.
“How are you?” Valerie gathered her in a warm hug, and Kerstin settled into the comfort. Val was often more like another mother than an aunt, nurturing and supportive, while also attending to the demanding job of caring for her older sister.
“Good. You?”
“Very well. Let’s sit.” Valerie motioned toward a grouping of leather chairs surrounded by plants near the floor-to-ceiling window. “You look tired.”
“I’m okay. How’s Mother?”
“Elizabeth Anthony. What can I say about that woman you don’t already know?”
Kerstin recoiled at the question before she realized Valerie was kidding, and then she burst into laughter. “Thank you. I needed that. Mother definitely defies description.”
“She still has a hard time when you’re out of town. It’s the short-term memory adjustment we talked about. She’s better with long-term recall. I suggested she keep a daily journal to help with day-to-day events.”
If her mother could forget the past and remember details about the present, their lives would be happier, but that wasn’t the hand she’d been dealt from her stroke seven months ago. “Is she using a journal and does it help?”
“Yes. I believe so. She sneaks glances at the notebook because she doesn’t want to admit she needs one, and that’s fine as long as it works. She’s made a lot of progress since the stroke, but she wants to be fully recovered yesterday.”
“Sounds like her. Your experience in geriatrics is a lifesaver. I’m so grateful, Val.”
“It keeps me close to my sister, whether she likes it or not. I should be paying her…well, not really.” She stood and pulled Kerstin with her. “We better go up. She doesn’t sleep long this late in the day.”
Kerstin released Valerie’s hand and suppressed an urge to run. Her relationship with her mother had been challenging before the stroke, with good-intentioned but constant attempts to direct Kerstin’s life and set her up with eligible bachelors, and living together complicated things, but running wouldn’t help. Her father’s gruff counsel and limited attempts at parenting always revolved around dealing with her mother. “Always have the courage to fight for what you want, especially where your mother’s concerned.” Did his advice still apply in light of her stroke and diminished faculties? Kerstin found it easier to go along to get along. She’d need more courage than she’d ever shown to take on her mother for any reason now.
She shuffled behind Valerie across the gray-marble-floored lobby and onto the private elevator servicing her mother’s penthouse. She checked her phone, praying her boss could meet with her this evening instead of tomorrow, and immediately winced, feeling guilty. She wanted to help her mother and had tried since the stroke, but it wasn’t easy. Elizabeth Anthony didn’t make anything easy—not her own privileged life, not her marriage, and definitely not motherhood. Her parents had struggled after their divorce, each using her as a pawn in their settlement negotiations. And her mother’s sudden dependence had rubbed Elizabeth and Kerstin raw in previously chafed places.
Valerie unlocked the tall metal door and stood aside to let her enter first. Kerstin stopped for a second, acclimating once again to the stark contrast of her mother’s Queen Anne furniture with its curves, cushioned seats, and wing-backed chairs in the lofty-contemporary space. Elizabeth managed to make the setting feel welcoming and comfortable to the hundreds of guests she entertained annually for various charities, but it never quite seemed like a home to Kerstin.
“How nice to see you, Kerstin.” Elizabeth Anthony stood in the open-plan kitchen clinging to the large granite island with her right hand. The slight paralysis to her left leg and arm were concealed beneath silk lounging pajamas she insisted on wearing for the length.
Kerstin crossed the loft and kissed her on the cheek. “How are you, Mother?”
“As well as can be expected. It’s been a while since you visited.”
She’d left this morning, but reminding her mother would probably only irritate her. “I’m sorry. Would you like some tea?” Valerie disappeared with her bag to give them some privacy, and she wished their buffer would hurry back.
“Valerie can do it. Sit. Tell me where you’ve been.”
“Val’s busy. Besides, I’d like to make it for you.” She’d learned at a young age not to boil her mother’s Earl Grey and to pour the milk in before the tea. If Elizabeth knew British aristocracy had used the “milk in first” phrase to refer to working-class folks, she would’ve changed her preference. But since tea preparation was one of the few things Kerstin did well enough to please her mother, she kept the trivia to herself.
“I prefer Valerie’s.” She motioned for Kerstin to precede her to the sitting area, a social faux pas before the stroke.
Though the comment stung, Kerstin acquiesced and pretended to enjoy the view from the windows overlooking the park while surreptitiously obser
ving her mother. Elizabeth secreted her slender walking cane behind her leg and moved slowly, posture upright, head high. She’d fought since the day of her stroke, determined to regain complete use of her limbs and total memory recall. She was making progress, but some of the damage couldn’t be undone. One thing would never change—her mother’s pride and determination—and Kerstin loved her for it. She was the reason Kerstin worked to secure a stable future no one could take from them.
“Anyone care for tea?” Valerie asked as she entered the living area.
“Yes, please,” her mother answered.
“None for me, Val.”
“Kerstin, don’t be petulant because I prefer Valerie’s tea.” Her mother gave her the chastising look she’d used since Kerstin was a child and settled in a wing-backed chair that gave her a slight height advantage.
She shook her head at Valerie. “I haven’t slept well for a couple of nights, and I really need to be rested tomorrow.”
“Look at the park. I can’t wait for everything to bloom again.” With Kerstin’s attention ostensibly diverted, Elizabeth slid a maroon notebook from the side of her chair cushion, glanced inside, and then replaced it. She smoothed the front of her silk pajamas and asked, “How was your trip to Greensboro? Remind me why you went there.”
The implication being she could go anywhere but the place she was born. Her mother detested Greensboro, and her constant complaints had torn their family apart.
“Parrish Designs has a new project there, but I’m thinking of turning it down. I’ll meet with Leonard tomorrow morning to discuss my options.”
“You mean Mr. Parrish, don’t you?”
“Of course.” Parrish might be her mother’s friend, but Kerstin gritted her teeth every day she had to work for the unpleasant man. He reminded her of Ebenezer Scrooge, tight with money and absolutely no compassion.
Valerie situated Elizabeth’s tea on a table to her right and moved it closer. “Do you need anything else before dinner?”
“No, thank you, dear.”
“I’ll be in my room while you two catch up.”
Kerstin gave her a pleading look she hoped would convince her to stay. The shock of running into Bennett Carlyle this morning had already frayed her nerves. Valerie shrugged and retreated. “Coward,” Kerstin mumbled and almost laughed at her transference.
“When are you going to move in and help Valerie take care of me? She can’t do everything. After all, I’m your mother.”
The words were needles, jabbing into wounds that never quite healed. Her insides clenched, and she fought back a pained response. The doctor’s explanation of Elizabeth’s difficulty retaining new information and her need to have things repeated didn’t make the critical tone hurt less.
“I’ve lived here for seven months, Mother, but I still have to travel for work.”
Elizabeth’s blue eyes registered momentary shock before she glanced toward the notebook resting at her side. “I know that. It just seems you aren’t here when I need you.”
Another needle. Kerstin’s eyes burned and she blinked back tears. How could she get through to a woman who couldn’t remember the past seven months? Elizabeth wasn’t a bad parent. She had specific ideas of what her daughter should and shouldn’t do and who she should be. Her idea of a fulfilling life included a crowded social schedule, charitable events, and a successful trophy husband on her arm. Children hadn’t been a priority. Kerstin didn’t have the necessary nurturing skills either, or the time now that the tables had been turned, but she wouldn’t stop trying. All she could do was hold on, try not to irritate Elizabeth, and pray Valerie didn’t quit. They sat in silence until daylight drained from the sky and the city hummed with nocturnal activities and light.
Valerie returned looking refreshed and asked, “Who’s ready for dinner?”
Kerstin’s shoulders relaxed. She should probably feel ashamed or guilty, but registered only a sense of relief as she kissed her mother on the cheek and started toward her bedroom. “I’m really tired. I’ll skip dinner and see you both tomorrow, though it might be late afternoon.”
Her mother’s long, disappointed breath was her only response.
Kerstin prayed for sleep as she got into bed, but thoughts of Bennett Carlyle returned. Seeing her had transformed Kerstin from orderly, efficient architect to love-struck teenager as old feelings mocked and injured her again. Kerstin’s ultimatum about the project had been a purely emotional one, totally out of character.
She considered sneaking out of the condo and going to the club to let off some steam and regain her sense of stability. Taking two steps toward her closet, she stopped. If a willing partner presented herself at this moment, Kerstin wouldn’t turn her down, but she didn’t have energy for the hunt. She flopped onto her extra-firm mattress again and stared at the ceiling. What if Leonard sent her back to Greensboro? She couldn’t afford a distraction, especially not one like Bennett. Her future depended on her focused creativity and precision.
* * *
Kerstin stood at her mother’s bedroom door watching her sleep. She debated waking her before she left for work, then decided against it. She wasn’t up for a confrontation at home before the one she anticipated at work, even though she understood Elizabeth’s fear and frustration. Kerstin would battle for control of her world if the same thing happened to her, but at some point their relationship had to even out in their new reality. While she was away or commuting on an irregular schedule, they’d have to manage.
“She’s a challenge.” Valerie handed Kerstin a travel mug full of steaming coffee.
“She certainly is.” Kerstin inhaled the strong scent of java and hazelnut while searching for something more generous to say about her mother. “I can’t imagine how difficult these limitations are for her, but I don’t know how else I can help.”
Valerie nodded back toward the kitchen. “Let’s chat before you leave.”
“Thank you again for everything you do.” She took a sip and placed her cup on the bar. “I’m not sure if I’ll be back today or if I’ll have to fly to Greensboro again.”
“Either way, I’ve got this, Kerstin. Don’t worry, and for God’s sake don’t feel guilty. You’re doing everything she’ll let you and more she doesn’t even know about.”
“I keep hoping for something to make a real difference.”
“Seriously? Let’s recap. You sublet your condo for a year, and if Elizabeth threw you out tomorrow, you couldn’t go home for at least five months. Right?”
Kerstin shrugged.
“You took six weeks’ family medical leave for caregiving, handled everything yourself until it became overwhelming, and eventually hired me, which I have to say is probably the smartest thing you’ve done in seven months. Elizabeth responds to me. I’m not a threat. She gave up rehabilitating me years ago. She still hopes you’ll suddenly flower into the perfect debutante, join the Junior League, and produce adorable clones of her. She’s trying, but she hasn’t fully accepted that we’re lesbians. Besides, you needed to get back to work for your sanity, and I’d guess to build a nest egg for Elizabeth’s future. The family money won’t last forever, contrary to her fantasies. Did I miss anything?”
Kerstin fiddled with the handle of her coffee cup, avoiding Valerie’s stare.
“That’s what I thought.” She motioned toward the stove. “Let me fix you a quick breakfast before you go.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“A piece of toast for the road?”
She shook her head and waved as she hit the lift button. “I love you, Val. Thanks for everything.” The door closed, and the mournful symphony music her mother preferred blared from overhead speakers, encouraging Kerstin to search for the escape hatch. The elevator opened, and she rushed out as if shoved.
Kerstin fast-walked to the subway station, found a seat, and rehearsed her speech on the ride. She was as prepared as she’d ever be when she knocked and opened the door to her boss’s office. She shelved the subject
of Elizabeth and pulled the situation with Bennett Carlyle to the forefront. She disliked conflict, but she couldn’t avoid this particular problem.
“I was surprised to get your call yesterday, Kerstin.” Leonard Parrish tugged at the tie choking his thick neck. His balding head shone with a customary film of perspiration, and the books and papers stacked haphazardly everywhere reeked with the sour smell of it. “Is there a problem already?”
“You should probably ask Gilbert Early that question. I haven’t made a complete evaluation yet.” Kerstin tempered the disdain in her voice, but her boss’s slight coloring signaled that she’d failed. She’d suffered from Leonard’s lack of integrity and willingness to take the easy way out of difficult situations.
Leonard fumbled around on his desk, located a pen, and twirled it, the incessant clicking another indication of his discomfort.
“Perhaps I’m not the right person for this job. My style and vision differ greatly from Gil’s.” Leonard’s expression glazed over. He wasn’t buying her pitch. “The bottom line is we’re losing money with the delays.” Appealing to his pecuniary interests always did the trick and avoided a serious confrontation.
He stroked his chin, an attempt at concentration. “I see. Just carry on with the current design. It’s perfect for the project, and so are you.”
A knot tightened in her stomach, her foolproof bullshit detector. “What do you mean?” She wasn’t getting the whole story about Gil or the project.
“You’re a good architect, and this project needs to proceed without any further interruptions. As you said, we’re losing money every day the builders aren’t on site.”
Leonard never complimented her, but the money angle was definitely a motivator. “If time is so important, why did you replace Gilbert?”
He pushed back from the oak desk and stood, his sizeable girth straining the buttons of his discount suit. “The Greensboro Police Department is using some federal money for this build, and you know what the feds are like. If we’re delayed further, they’ll pull the funding. I thought you’d be happy about the job. It’ll look great in your portfolio, if you ever decide to leave Parrish Designs.”