by V. K. Powell
Kerstin stepped forward. “Chief, I can exp—”
“Ms. Anthony, no disrespect, but you don’t answer to me. I need to hear from my captain.”
Bennett was embarrassed by the chief’s assumption and elated that Kerstin took up for her, but this was her boss, her fight, and her reputation. “We reevaluated the architectural plans and made some necessary changes.”
“Why?” Bennett met Ashton’s unwavering stare. “What aren’t you telling me, Ben?”
“Things had gone a bit off the rails.”
“How so?”
“Chief, if I may?” Kerstin tried again.
“Very well, Ms. Anthony, since my captain seems reluctant to speak candidly.”
“What Bennett doesn’t want to say is her predecessor did a horrible job on the initial brief, which left out several necessary specifications completely. And my predecessor wasn’t very thorough either. So we’ve been cleaning up their sloppy work. I can’t allow workmen to return to the site until they have a completed set of drawings and accurate material and cost estimates.”
Bennett stared at Kerstin as she spoke, pride rising in her chest. Kerstin was confident and professional and wasn’t about to let the chief of police bully either of them.
“Makes sense,” Chief Ashton said. “I’m sure I don’t have to say this again, but I will to impress upon both of you the importance of this project. The manager’s office has reason to be concerned. If these changes put us over budget or over our deadline, the whole project could be scrapped. You both understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Bennett answered.
“I do, Chief.” Kerstin waved toward the 3D model. “Want to look at the floor plan?”
“No time today.” He nodded toward the door for Bennett to accompany him. “I’ll see you later, Ms. Anthony, and thank you for your candor.” They got outside, and the chief said, “So why didn’t you want to tell me about Arthur Warren?”
“Didn’t see the point. He’s gone. The project needed attention, and I didn’t think you wanted excuses.”
“I wanted what I’ve come to expect from you, the unvarnished truth.”
“Yes, sir.” Bennett looked down, suddenly unable to meet her boss’s eyes. She’d disappointed one of the few remaining people who’d mattered to her father.
“I admire your loyalty, but Warren doesn’t deserve it. Now get to work and keep this project on schedule.” He gave her a slap on the back before getting into his car.
Kerstin walked up beside her. “Well, that could’ve been worse.”
“Yeah, and could’ve been better.”
“Did I do something wrong? Shouldn’t I have told him about Warren?” Kerstin’s blue eyes held the shadowy sadness Bennett had seen before when one of her parents criticized her.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I should’ve told him about Warren.” She wrapped her arm around Kerstin’s shoulder, surprised she didn’t pull away, and led her across the parking lot toward the street. “You were fierce.”
“I know, right? No idea where the courage came from, but he went after you, and I…”
“If your boss could’ve seen you, he’d probably think twice about messing with you.”
Kerstin seemed to consider her comment before noticing they were heading away from the substation. “Where are we going?”
“Lunch. I skipped breakfast.”
“Well slow down, speedy. I can’t keep up.”
The small food-truck window opened, and G-ma and Mama waved as they approached. “Get over here, you two.”
“Kerstin Anthony? Is that really you?” Mama hurried out the back of the trailer and enveloped Kerstin in a hug. “It’s been ages.” She held Kerstin at arm’s length and spun her in a circle. “You still look the same.”
“Filled out in some places. Right, Ben?” G-ma added from inside the trailer.
“G-ma, please.” Bennett gave Kerstin an apologetic shrug.
“Hi, Mrs. Carlyle,” Kerstin said, blushing at her comment. “Good to see you both again.”
Mama passed the sandwiches and drinks to the lunch crowd as G-ma handed them to her and collected money. “Welcome back, Kerstin.”
“I’m not really back, Gayle.”
Bennett leaned closer and whispered. “Lighten up. Southern hospitality.”
“Come over for dinner,” G-ma said as Gayle rejoined her in the trailer. “Ben says you go back to New York every weekend, so Sunday night? Seven o’clock? We’re changing brunch to dinner for the occasion.”
“We are?” Bennett and Mama said in unison. The sacred Sunday brunch time hadn’t changed since Simon announced his proposal to Stephanie, twelve years ago.
“Won’t take no for an answer,” G-ma said, giving an authoritative nod.
“Well, I really should—”
“If you don’t say yes, she’ll keep pestering you,” Mama said.
Bennett nudged Kerstin. “Please?”
“Okay. I’d love to come for Sunday dinner.”
“Good. It’s settled.” Mama tossed two sandwiches to Bennett, followed by a couple of canned drinks. “Enjoy.”
As they walked back across the street, Bennett pointed to a large, freshly mowed grassy area with a couple of picnic tables behind the substation. “Mind if we eat outside? Be a shame to waste such a beautiful day.”
“I’d love to.” Kerstin settled on one side of the bench and turned her face to the sun. “I don’t take time to enjoy this in New York. And if I have time, the skyscrapers seem to gobble all the warmth, or grumpy people complain so loudly I can’t enjoy myself.” She sniffed the air. “What’s that fabulous smell, sort of ripe apricots and black tea, very dainty and demure?”
Bennett took a whiff around her. “Beneath the fresh-cut grass, smells like tea olive, the evergreen-looking bushes to your right with the tiny white blossoms. Hard to believe something so small produces such an aroma, isn’t it?”
“I love the fragrance.” Her tone sounded forlorn, almost wistful.
“Why do you stay in New York?”
Kerstin glanced at her as if considering whether to answer. “I have responsibilities I can’t walk away from.”
“The woman I heard on the phone?”
“Yes.”
The word landed with solid finality, and Bennett debated asking for clarification. Here in the outdoors with nowhere to run, Kerstin would either refuse to be honest with her or they’d finally have a real conversation. “Is she your partner, your lov—er.” The word hung in Bennett’s throat, an affront to every unfulfilled desire she held for Kerstin.
“What?”
“She called you dear.”
“Elizabeth. My mother.”
The tension that held Bennett’s breath finally released. “Your mother?”
“You thought…no…there isn’t anyone…special.”
The admission seemed to injure Kerstin with each word, a disclosure of some perceived failure or perhaps a difficult conscious choice. Bennett didn’t even try to suppress the smile consuming her face. “I can’t say I’m sorry, but if you’re unhappy, why can’t you leave?”
Kerstin glanced at her unwrapped sandwich before pushing it aside. “Mother had a stroke. She needs me…well, she needs constant care at the moment.”
Bennett moved around the table, wrapping an arm around her waist. “I’m so sorry, Kerst. I didn’t know.” Kerstin relaxed against her. “Guess there’s a lot I don’t know.” She waited, gauging Kerstin’s willingness to reveal more. “Do you manage the situation all alone?”
“My aunt Valerie is with her when I’m away. She’s really been a godsend. I can’t imagine how I would’ve survived without her. She lives with us and, I have to admit, has a much better rapport with Mother than I do.”
“I’m glad you have someone to help out. Her condition certainly explains your aversion to hospitals. I imagine the process has been long and difficult for all of you.”
Kerstin again turned her face to the sun
and closed her eyes as if soaking up the warmth like a balm. She either didn’t notice or didn’t mind that Bennett still held her close.
A few minutes later Bennett asked, “What happened to us, Kerst?”
Kerstin’s body stiffened before she backed away, an incredulous look on her face. “Why are you so obsessed with the past? It obviously didn’t slow you down.”
The comment was as harsh as it was unexpected. “What?”
Kerstin looked at the ground and shook her head. “That comment was unnecessary and insensitive. I apologize. Let’s move on.”
Bennett had been on the receiving end of Kerstin’s deflection many times when she was upset or uncomfortable, but her words still stung. “And I suppose you’re still a virgin?” Neither she nor Kerstin were cruel or vindictive people, and Bennett immediately regretted the snarky comment. “Now I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“We’re both attractive women and have probably had numerous partners.”
Bennett winced at Kerstin’s confirmation of her sexual growth. Had she wanted Kerstin’s life frozen until…until what? How ridiculously seventeen of her. “I’m way out of line. I’ll leave you in peace.” She rose from the table and walked away.
“Don’t go.” Kerstin’s voice was so low Bennett almost didn’t hear her. Kerstin blew out a deep breath and sagged against the table. “I’m the one avoiding the truth and trying to change history. Sit. Let’s talk.”
Bennett slowly returned to Kerstin’s side, afraid any sudden movement would break the spell and throw her back into avoidance. Bennett sat quietly, anticipating the long-awaited explanation.
“You kissed me,” Kerstin finally whispered.
Bennett leaned in so Kerstin had to make eye contact. “And you kissed back.”
“I—”
“Please don’t tell me you didn’t or, worse, you’ve forgotten.”
Kerstin shook her head. “I could never forget. I feel the intensity of that kiss in my dreams, snuggle up to its warmth on cold New York nights, and masturbate to the sensations it still summons. But that was a…” She swallowed hard, as if unable to believe she’d said those things out loud. “Long time ago.”
“Kerst, I—”
“That kiss, our only kiss, changed my life. And you acted like it didn’t matter. You actually said, ‘This is nothing. We’re just experimenting.’ What did you expect me to do?”
Kerstin’s total recall landed like a physical blow, and Bennett recoiled. “What?” The blue of Kerstin’s eyes darkened and misted, tears on the verge of spilling over.
“Those were your exact words. You were terrified.”
“Of course I was terrified, Kerst. Your father walked in on us, without knocking, which he did quite a lot when your bedroom door was closed.”
“He was a bit intrusive.”
“Overbearing was more like it. And when he saw us kissing, he was enraged. I was protecting you in a very bad situation.” She paused, her chest tightening as old feelings surfaced. She struggled for the strength to explain what she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to clarify all those years ago. “Denying was the only thing I could think to do at the time. I didn’t want him to be angry at you or forbid us from seeing each other, which obviously didn’t work.” She reached for Kerstin’s arm, but she jerked away.
“Instead, he divorced my mother, and she and I moved to New York.”
The statement carried no emotion, a simple set of facts. How long had Kerstin managed and concealed the wounding memories? “And you blame me for everything?”
Kerstin’s eyes softened slightly, but old pain still tugged at their corners. “Of course not. The whole situation was the excuse he needed to leave an unhappy marriage. My mother hated North Carolina and wanted to move back to New York to be with her family and friends. The argument was a constant battle, which he finally won that day.”
“So why are you so upset with me?”
“You belittled our feelings, denied them. Denied me. I wanted you to care enough to fight for me, but you folded like a cheap chair and walked away.” Kerstin’s features hardened again, and her hands fisted in her lap. All the pain she’d buried was broadcast across her face.
“I didn’t…well, I said the words, but you had to know I didn’t mean them.” Kerstin’s expression didn’t change. “You stopped showing up at school the last two weeks, and I called your house, every day. I didn’t hear back, so I assumed you didn’t care—”
“Seriously? I was shattered. And I didn’t get any messages.”
“I had no idea. You always kept your feelings close to the chest. I wanted so badly to explain, but you were gone.” Bennett couldn’t bear the distance any longer. She edged closer to Kerstin, pressing her leg along the length of Kerstin’s thigh. “I poured my heart out in your yearbook. Remember? Please say you believe me.”
“I doubted everything you’d ever said to me. And then my life changed so fast after the kiss. The divorce decision. My mother and I moving in the middle of the night so the neighbors wouldn’t gossip. Receiving my diploma in the mail instead of graduating with my class.” She looked toward the sky and slowly shook her head. “I can’t believe my father didn’t tell me about your calls.” She paused before adding, “Yes, I can. He was absolutely livid.”
“I’m so sorry, Kerst. I should’ve tried harder, but I was devastated too.” The what ifs and maybes Bennett had pondered through the years vanished, and with them, the knot of grief and uncertainty she’d carried.
Kerstin stroked Bennett’s cheek and skimmed her lip with her thumb. “All this time I believed you didn’t care or, worse, you betrayed me. Oh, Ben, I—”
“Bennett, I’ve been texting you.” Jazz jogged across the parking lot toward them but stopped short. “I’m sorry, but we have to go. Serious assault in Irving Park.”
Kerstin’s hand dropped and a single tear slid down her cheek.
Bennett released a heavy, frustrated sigh. Irving Park spelled old money, prestige, political influence, and immediate police response when infrequent crimes occurred. She desperately wanted to remain at the small park bench on the secluded patch of grass in the company of the woman she’d loved since childhood, but the urgency in Jazz’s voice reminded her of other responsibilities. She squeezed Kerstin’s hand where it rested in her lap. “I’m so sorry, Kerst. I have to go. Please don’t change your mind about dinner Sunday night.”
Kerstin nodded.
“And maybe we can talk more afterward?”
“I’d like that.”
Bennett rushed after Jazz, glancing back several times, her heart tugging her in one direction, her sense of duty in another.
Chapter Twelve
On Sunday morning while Kerstin searched the closet in her old bedroom for something comfortable to wear, a tattered dress box on the top shelf caught her eye. She’d left the box along with most of her other teenage memorabilia when she moved into her own condo. Her prom dress, homecoming trinkets, and baubles from friends strained the corners of the frail cardboard. She carefully lowered it and, supporting the bottom with both hands, placed it gently on the bed. The items inside belonged to another time, to a more naive person. Why she hadn’t tossed this collection of junk she wasn’t sure. She debated leaving it undisturbed, but Bennett said she’d poured her heart out in Kerstin’s yearbook. She didn’t remember. Maybe this once the past was worth revisiting.
She checked that her mother and Val were still sleeping before she raised the box lid slowly. She peeped under the corner, foolishly afraid of ghosts or memories capable of changing the person she’d become. Reaching for the first rectangular item on top, she stopped, recognizing the yearbook. The cover imitated an old-fashioned wooden door with wrought-iron hinges and handle. In the center, a white window insert contained the gray whirligig emblem of Grimsley High School. The book looked harmless, and her desire to open it had become palpable. What did she hope to find? What did she pray wasn’t there?
She flipped pa
st the front pages where the teachers wrote their best wishes and stared at the final sheet glued to the cover. In the hurried style indicative of everything she did in those days, Bennett’s scrawled message occupied the entire page. She raked her hand over the writing as if divining feeling from the words. They tempted her to read and remember. She resisted but ultimately failed.
Dearest Kerst,
What can I say to the person who stole my heart the minute I met her? You probably think I’m too bold, and I am, but I’m also honest. That’s me. I feel I’ve known you forever. You own me. Totally. Now and always. And I don’t say those words lightly. Please don’t forget me or the time we spent together. I never will.
You’ll probably end up at Princeton or Yale next year, and I’ll be ducking classes at some community college. You’re destined for greatness. Don’t let anyone kill your dreams and never doubt your potential. I don’t.
If you want, I’ll come to you wherever you end up. All you have to do is ask, and I’ll find a way.
In bold block print, she’d added a quote Kerstin didn’t recognize.
“All I refuse, and thee I choose.”
Love, Ben
She slammed the book and brushed away tears falling on the cover. Ben’s words seemed genuine, but her actions proved otherwise. How had she forgotten, and why had she dredged up these feelings again? They only confused and tormented her about something that never was or ever could be. Opening her heart would be much more complicated than reading a few lines of old text, no matter how sincere. She placed the lid on the box and shoved it in the back of the closet out of sight. The little voice in her head taunted her. I told you not to open it. Serves you right. She crawled back in bed, pulled the covers over her head, and slept until Valerie tapped on her door announcing lunch was ready.
“Earth to Kerstin.” Valerie stopped stacking the lunch dishes in the dishwasher and perched her hands on her hips.