Two days ago, Kensington was seriously considering moving in with Trey. She hoped taking the next step in their relationship would get her closer to the ring she desperately desired, but after last night, she didn’t know if a ring from Trey was what she truly wanted.
Kensie wasn’t naïve enough to think she had a future with CT. He wasn’t husband material. He damn sure wasn’t someone she could have children with, and her parents would die of shock if she ever brought him home for Sunday dinner. No, she didn’t want a relationship with the drummer. She hadn’t even bothered giving the asshole her phone number, but her lack of remorse for cheating on her boyfriend frightened her.
She never doubted Trey was her forever, but Jam’s words from last night rang in her ears. He’s turning you into a Stepford wife. Could it be true? Was she losing herself? Last night, she felt a freedom she hadn’t felt since leaving college. She hadn’t realized she’d stifled that Kensie, but she also knew she wasn’t ready to give up on Trey. She was selfish and acknowledging it made her lather up the loofah one last time, willing the heat and the steam from the shower to quiet her inner thoughts.
Old Spice.
Grassy beaches.
’80s sitcoms.
Warm hugs.
Bright smiles.
Home.
Kensie repeated the list in her head over and over on the drive to her parents’ house; a list of things that centered her. Things that reminded her of who she was—her values, what made her happy—what made her whole.
She loved growing up in Madison Park, loved spending her summers with friends at the beach, loved running around the country club driving their parents insane. She was at peace there. Most importantly, it was far enough removed from the city to offer solace from the atomic bomb she had detonated in her life. Coming home would put things into perspective.
Her parents waited arm in arm at the door as she pulled into the driveway, no doubt informed of her arrival by the security guard at the front gate. Before getting out of the car, Kensie took a moment to adjust the pearls dangling from her neck. The necklace wasn’t really her style, but Trey had given it to her for Christmas, so she wore it in silent atonement.
“Hi, Mama, hey, Daddy.” Kensie smiled, and hugged her parents tightly.
“Hey, baby girl,” her mother cooed, ushering her into the house. “You look…different?”
“I’m just tired. Jam and I stayed out too late.” Kensie’s heels click-clacked on the marble floors, as they passed the formal living room and headed down to the den.
“Are you sure that’s it, dear?” Jacquelyn Roth wasn’t the type of woman to sweep things under the rug. She could smell bullshit from a mile away, a sense honed by growing up in a family full of politicians. Kensie wasn’t sure why she thought today would be any different, but she definitely wasn’t about to recount her exploits from the night before to her parents.
“Jacquelyn, give the girl a break. She said she’s tired,” Victor said.
Her mother pursed her lips but didn’t push the subject. The three of them settled into their normal seats, her mom and dad snuggled on the sofa, and Kensie in the brown leather recliner. Her dad pointed the remote at the TV, the opening credits for Three’s Company glowed on the screen. She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry.
Irony, it seemed, had a morbid sense of humor.
They’d gotten through nearly two episodes of Three’s Company before the guard alerted them to Trey’s arrival. Kensie’s breath hitched. Lying over the phone was one thing, but she didn’t know if her poker face would hold up in person. Her mother sensed something was off with her in a matter of moments; how long would it take the man she loved?
“Are you alright, baby girl?” Jacquelyn asked.
Kensie fidgeted with the hem of her navy-blue dress. “I’m just excited to see him. It’s the longest we’ve been apart since we started dating.” She hoped her lie was convincing. Could her mother hear her heart pounding? Did she notice Kensie rubbing her damp palms down the front of her dress?
“Is that why you’ve been so wound up?”
Before she could answer, before she could add another lie to the growing list, she heard him. His voice was so happy and carefree it made her smile her first genuine smile since before her transgression. Kensie’s eyes were glued to the entryway. Her heart stammered. Her breathing accelerated. Every bone in her body ached to run to him, to throw herself at his feet and beg forgiveness.
Seconds ticked by, then her father appeared with Trey just a few steps behind. His hands were dipped in the pockets of his khaki shorts. His posture was relaxed, his skin kissed by the Nevada sun, and his eyes shone with a love and adoration Kensie didn’t deserve. “There’s my girl.” He grinned, his arms wide, waiting.
She was up in an instant, snaking her hands around his waist, burrowing her head into his chest. The tears couldn’t be helped. What had she done?
“Hey, what’s with the waterworks?” he asked, pulling her closer, inhaling her scent, the one she wore for him.
“I just missed you,” she whispered.
“I’m here now, baby. It’s me and you.” She peeked up at him through her lashes, worried he would spot the infidelity written across her face. The invisible scarlet “A” permanently etched onto her soul. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up and meet us out back,” he suggested, brushing away her tears. She didn’t deserve his tenderness. “Your dad said he was going to throw some steaks on the grill.” She glanced around the now empty den. Her mother and father must have slipped out to give them privacy. Kensie nodded in reply. Still not trusting herself to speak, she tilted her head back and puckered her lips. Trey planted a chaste kiss in the middle of her mouth, groaning, “God, baby, I can’t wait to get you back to my place.”
Guilt pricked in her chest. Would he know? Would he be able to tell someone else was where only he should have been? She forced a smile and willed herself to relax. Releasing her grip on him, she said,” I’m going to go fix my makeup. I’ll meet you out there.”
“Okay, baby, don’t be long.”
She turned to leave, but his hand on her waist halted her. “Babe?”
“Hmm?” she asked, turning back to look at the man she betrayed.
“Maybe you could do something with your hair too?”
Her hand shot up to feel around the messy top knot, confusion written on her features. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing, I mean, is gym rat chic a trend right now?” he mused, playfully tousling the bun.
“Oh… Umm no…I woke up late. I didn’t have time to blow it dry.”
“Ahhh, I see.” Trey smiled, relief evident in his brown eyes. “I was worried this was a new look or something.” He tilted his head down, pressing his lips to hers. “I’m going to go find your parents. Don’t be too long.”
Kensie stood there, watching as he walked away, oblivious to how his words made her feel. Lost in thought, a million different emotions coursed through her veins. Anger. Insecurity. Guilt.
Mostly guilt. Had she not been in Neverland she would have had time. She almost never wore her hair in a top knot—not since college. Could she blame him if he didn’t like it? At least he was honest, that’s more than she could say.
Grabbing her clutch off the chair, Kensie decided to forgo the downstairs washroom and, instead, journeyed up to her old bedroom, in the hope that something in there could help tame her mane.
Her parents kept her room the same, a time capsule of her adolescence. The walls were pale pink and covered with posters of her favorite boy band, and a heart-shaped mural comprised of photographs of her friends and family was mounted above her bed.
Kensie reached for the stuffed bear on her dresser. She had it for as long as she could remember, a security blanket of sorts, she even took it with her to college freshman year.
Sighing, she lay back on the full-size bed, the pink paisley print comforter surrounding her, and wondered what her teenage self would think of t
he woman she’d become. She was smart, had a job at Seattle’s top advertising agency and she’d met the perfect guy, but inside she felt stagnate. Since leaving USC she lived her life on autopilot, always doing and saying what was expected. What happened to the girl who wanted to inspire the world? How could she have gotten so lost in the two years since she graduated? Last night, she had been reckless and selfish, but she had also been free.
Kensie put the bear back in his spot on her dresser and slinked into the attached bathroom. Her first mission was to fix the tear streaks in her foundation. Shuffling through her clutch, Kensie found her compact and started to buff away the damage. From the corner of her eye, Kensie noticed the screen of her iPhone come to life. A text. Probably Trey. She’d already been gone fifteen minutes. It was a wonder he only sent one. She debated on ignoring it. If he wanted her hair in something other than the messy updo, he was going to have to have patience.
Her phone pinged again. Irritated, she tapped the message without a second glance.
Boyfriend#2: How’s the cornball?
Boyfriend#2: Do you miss me yet?
She tried to fight the smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. CT was persistent, she’d give him that. She made a mental note to put a lock on her phone and then typed out a reply.
Kensie: If I wanted you to have my phone number, I would have given it to you.
Kensie tossed the phone back on the counter and stared at it like it might explode. She was playing with fire. She should block his number. They didn’t have anything to talk about and she didn’t plan on repeating the mistakes she made last night ever again.
Block his number, Kensington.
Block his fucking number.
The notification sounded again and again—against her better judgment—she checked the message. Why couldn’t she seem to think like a logical person where he was involved?
Boyfriend#2: Then it’s a good thing I took matters into my own hands.
Kensie: Look, I’m flattered, really, but I’m not interested. I’m sure there are a 100 other girls who would love the attention.
Boyfriend #2: 200 girls actually but none of them are the beautiful, messy-haired girl who made me breakfast.
Kensie: I have a BOYFRIEND!
Boyfriend#2: Your boyfriend won’t let you have friends?
Kensie: You don’t even know me. I could be a stage-five clinger.
Boyfriend#2: I know how good you taste so I’m willing to risk it. My dick is twitching just thinking about it.
Boyfriend#2: You wanna see?
Kensie: If you send me a picture of your dick I’m blocking your number!
Boyfriend#2: No dick pics, got it.
Kensie: I should get back. They’re waiting for me.
Boyfriend#2: When can I see you again?
Kensie: In your dreams-xo
She silenced her phone. She needed to stop this. Trey and her parents were waiting, and she couldn’t hide in her ivory tower forever. Block him, Kensington. She clicked into his contact information, staring at the Block Caller button. She knew what she should do but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she changed the display name from Boyfriend#2 to Peter Pan and went to work on fixing her hair.
Kensie studied herself in the full-length bathroom mirror. She had somehow managed to transform the tangled and still damp bun into a stylish mermaid braid. The navy-blue dress she wore was just the right combination of sweet and sexy. The flirty hemline fell right above the knees and was much more modest than the red cutout dress Jam had convinced her to wear last night. Fingering the pearls dangling around her neck, two words swirled in her brain.
Stepford wife.
Kensie found Trey and her parents sitting under the covered deck. Their conversation seemed light, jovial. One of the things she loved most about Trey was how well he got along with her folks. Her family meant the world to her and the fact that he loved them as much as she did, made her heart swell. Trey grinned as she took her place next to him on the wicker sofa that cost more than the living room set in the apartment she shared with Jam.
“I was just about to send a search party,” her dad quipped. He and her mom sat across from them, her dad’s arm draped around her mother’s neck, an easy smile plastered on his face. Even after thirty-plus years of marriage, they were still madly in love. Kensie hoped she would be so lucky.
She hoped she and Trey would be so lucky.
“I like this,” Trey complimented, tugging lightly at the end of her braid.
“You better, it took me forever.”
“Totally worth the wait.”
Kensie beamed up at him, her teeth buried deep inside her bottom lip. She loved this man. They weren’t perfect, but she could be content spending forever with him. It would be as easy as breathing.
“So, Kenny, Trey was telling us you two were thinking about moving in together?” her mother asked, breaking the moment. Kensie dragged her gaze from her boyfriend to her mother, her defenses rising immediately. She recognized that tone. Nothing good came of that tone.
“Umm…we’ve discussed it.” Kensie’s words were slow, measured, as she tried to control the sudden rage building inside of her. Trey brought up the idea of living together last week when he discovered her lease was up at the end of the summer. She had been considering it but told him she needed time to think about it, that she needed to talk to her parents. Nothing was set in stone and she certainly wasn’t ready to tell her conservative parents that she was thinking about shacking up with her boyfriend, regardless of how well they got along.
“Don’t be upset.” Trey’s voice was dismissive. He must have felt the anger radiating off her. “I know you were concerned about what your parents would think, so I asked them. The timing is right; it doesn’t make sense to wait.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. She wanted to tell them in her own way, on her own time. “What do you guys think?”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea, if it’s what you really want.” Her mom looked at her, the infamous Jacquelyn Roth’s bullshit detector on full alert and trained at her daughter. “Is that what you want, baby girl?”
“I think,” she turned to look at Trey, “I need more time to think about it. I think we have the rest of our lives to live together and I don’t want to rush it because the paperwork would be convenient.” Kensie crossed her arms over her chest. As far as she was concerned, this discussion was over.
Kensie awoke the next morning engulfed in the pink paisley print comforter of her childhood bed. She had stayed in Madison Park out of spite. She was furious with Trey for ambushing her, at least that’s what she told herself. A part of her wondered if she hadn’t overreacted to avoid going home with him. She couldn’t duck him forever, but her anger, mixed with the anxiety she felt about being intimate so soon after her betrayal, left her tap-dancing on the edge of sanity.
After showering, Kensie checked the closet to see if her teenage-self owned anything suitable to wear to work. “Of course not,” she sighed. She had hoped to sneak out unnoticed. Her parents had given her space after their tense Sunday dinner, but she knew they wouldn’t be as gracious in the morning.
She tiptoed down the hall to the master bedroom. With any luck, she’d be able to sneak in and out of her mother’s closet and be on her way. The room was empty. Her father had left for work around six, but she didn’t know where her mother was or when she’d be back. Careful, so as not to make a sound, she padded across the floor like the sly cat from one of those old-school cartoons. Was she being immature? Yes. Was it easier than admitting the truth? Absolutely.
Once safely inside the confines of her mother’s closet, Kensie exhaled. The walk-in was massive; the word closet didn’t do it justice. Mausoleum was more apt—a shrine of fashion and excess. The walls of designer clothes, shoes, and purses were great, but they paled in comparison to the mirrored island in the center of the oasis—her mother’s ostentatious jewelry collection.
Kensie’s
fingers flitted over a rack of formal dresses. As a child, she’d spent hours tearing through the rows and rows of designer garments, playing dress up in Versace, Gucci, and Fendi, her own personal boutique.
Little Kensington couldn’t wait to grow up. She couldn’t wait to wear beautiful things and go to fancy parties. She’d enjoyed that life for a time, then everything had changed. She changed. College helped her realize there was more to life than beautiful gowns.
She’d still take the closet though.
Kensie put the memories of her past behind her. The uncertainty of her future could wait. She needed to be quick. A simple pair of gray slacks and a white button-down shirt would have to do. With the clothes in hand, she made her escape.
“Some things never change,” Jacquelyn said, taking a sip from her water bottle. She was dressed as though she’d been running.
“Holy crap, Mom! You scared me!” Kensie squealed, slapping a hand over her chest.
“Serves you right for sneaking around my closet.”
Kensie watched her mom pull the small, white towel from around her neck and dab gently at the moisture collecting on her brow. Jacquelyn Roth didn’t sweat, she glistened. “I needed something to wear to work. I’ll have it dry-cleaned and bring it back next week,” she rambled, heading straight for the door. She was desperately hoping to avoid a rehash of the previous night.
“Not so fast, young lady. You aren’t getting off that easy.”
“Mom, I’ve really got to go. We can talk later.” Kensie made it to the large oak door. She felt the cool metal of the knob. She was so close, and yet…
“We can talk now.” Her mother’s tone was final. “This won’t take long.”
“Fine,” Kensie huffed. There was no use in fighting, so she plopped down on the California king bed and mentally prepared for the pending interrogation.
“Are you going to move in with Trey?”
Lithium Tides: A Lithium Springs Novel Page 4