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Soaring (9781311625663)

Page 53

by Ashley, Kristen

“What?” I whispered.

  “I’ll preface this by saying this is bullshit.” He waved the expensive, thick-stock paper in the air. “Clearly you’ve delivered some perceived slight to Mom and Dad and this is their way of communicating who holds the power.”

  Oh God.

  “What, Lawrie?”

  He drew in a deep breath.

  Then he gave it to me.

  “They’ve petitioned Addison to examine the terms of your Calway trusts, both the one they set up for you and the one all Calway heirs receive. This request is in regards to your behavior after Conrad left you. They’ve shared with Addison you acted in a manner unbefitting a Calway heir, which breaks the terms of the trusts, and they’ve asked him to consider revoking them.”

  I stared at my brother thinking I just knew something was up with them.

  “They can’t do this,” Lawrie continued. “I was there on more than one occasion where they encouraged you to communicate your distaste for Conrad’s desertion, doing this with what is for them not a small amount of glee. I know Robin was too. We’ll both prepare statements and send them to Addison. If you’re truly in danger, and you’re not, the terms of the trust state that it can be revoked only if behavior garners public attention, which yours did not, then Dad’s in the same position because he encouraged you to do so.”

  I kept staring at him, unable to speak.

  “Regardless, Addison’s firm gets a retainer from the trust, not Mom and Dad, and he’s a good man,” Lawrie reminded me. “He’ll do what they ask but he’ll adhere to the letter of the trust. This is just posturing and the timing of this delivery is not lost on me. They’re making a point, just like Mom and Dad.” He tossed the papers aside. “Forget it for today. I’ll phone Robin tomorrow and get to work on your rebuttal.”

  “They can have it,” I whispered.

  “Pardon?” Lawrie asked.

  I focused on him. “They can have it. I have the Bourne trust they can’t touch. It’s twenty-five million dollars. I don’t live a lavish lifestyle. I don’t intend to live a lavish lifestyle. But I can easily live a relatively lavish lifestyle off the interest from that trust.”

  This was not wrong.

  Of course, I could probably not afford to sell off all my belongings, redecorate the entirety of a massive five-bedroom show home, replace my entire wardrobe and buy whatever car I wanted.

  But I could get Aisling the expensive blender she was eyeing at Bed Bath and Beyond for Christmas (if Mickey approved, that was).

  “You’re not going to lose your trusts, MeeMee,” Lawrie reiterated.

  “No, probably not,” I replied. “But I’m not going to phone them and give them the reaction they want to this. Either being angry or being apologetic or,” I threw out a hand, “whatever they want from me. If they push this, fine. They can have the money. They can disinherit me from the piles they’d have given me when they stop breathing. I don’t need that either. I just hope they don’t punish Auden and Olympia with this kind of nonsense. Now that would make me angry.”

  “All right, if you don’t give a shit about this, I do,” Lawr said angrily. “What’s up their asses?”

  “I didn’t take their calls when I first moved here because I was trying to sort my head out about how I’d been behaving, and I needed to focus on setting up a home, a life, and winning back my kids,” I told him. “This lasted awhile but I did email them. In fact, I’ve been emailing them regularly for months. It isn’t like I cut ties with them completely.”

  “That’s it?” he asked.

  “It could be even more trivial, Lawrie. You know them,” I answered. “They don’t need much.”

  Lawr looked down at the papers.

  I moved to him and touched his arm.

  He looked back to me.

  “I really don’t care,” I told him honestly.

  “It’s fucking Thanksgiving, MeeMee, and they knew because you didn’t have them last year that you have the kids. Even if they didn’t, that’s likely something you shared in your emails.” He reached out a hand and pushed at the paper. “And they give you this?”

  “It’s them,” I reminded him.

  “It isn’t right,” he reminded me.

  “No. It isn’t. But it’s them. And if you, or I, rise to the bait, we’re doing what they want. Instead, if we let this go, see what Addison finds, which as you say will not be in their favor, we’re being us. We’re being who we are. We are not being what they want to make us be.”

  Lawr’s jaw clenched.

  “They’ll get over it,” I told him. “It’s too ill-bred to hold a grudge.”

  He studied me a minute before he burst out laughing. And he did this pulling me into his arms.

  I wrapped mine around him too.

  We held on and I gave it time before I asked, “Do they know you’re divorcing Mariel?”

  “Come Christmas Day, I expect my letter from Addison to arrive.”

  That meant he told them and they were frosting him out.

  I leaned my head back and caught his eyes.

  “They’re home, alone, no kids, no grandkids, stewing.” I gave him a squeeze. “Where are we?”

  “Together, making pies,” he replied quietly.

  I grinned.

  “Maine made you smart,” he remarked.

  I glared. “I’ve always been smart.”

  “Yes. Sorry. You’re right. Sitting around watching you and Robin drink vodka and connive to slash Conrad’s tires. Brilliant. What was I thinking?” he teased.

  I pulled away, mumbling, “A phase.”

  “Yeah,” he replied.

  It was time to move on.

  “You have another crust to roll out and I have to finish the apples, Lawrie.”

  “Right, boss,” he said briskly but this was also jokingly.

  He went to his crust.

  I went to the apples.

  The apple pie was in with the pumpkin, and Lawr was working on the crust for the pecan pie when my phone chimed.

  I looked to it, saw the text from Pippa and snatched it up.

  Sorry, Mom, super sorry. We’re still at Dad’s. But we’ll get there as soon as we can. Promise!

  I gritted my teeth but replied, Okay, kiddo. Do me a favor and text when you’re on your way so Uncle Lawrie and I won’t worry.

  And I knew I’d done the right thing when she quickly replied, You’re the greatest! And we will!

  My baby girl thought I was the greatest.

  I could ride on that for eternity.

  So it’d easily take me through another hour.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t.

  But it wasn’t Conrad or my parents who would turn Thanksgiving into a disaster.

  * * * * *

  My phone chimed.

  I was basting the turkey, but I turned my head to Lawrie who was standing at the opposite counter, his eyes cast down to my phone.

  “Auden,” he said, looking to me. “They’re on their way.”

  I sighed in relief and kept basting.

  The turkey was looking fabulous. The pies were done. The potatoes were peeled. The ingredients for the rolls were churning in the breadmaker, the dough would be done in fifteen minutes so I could form the rolls and they had time to rise. My homemade cranberry sauce was already done. The sweet potato casserole was assembled and ready to go into the oven. The green bean casserole would take no time to do so it could join it. The table was laid.

  It was twenty past noon. As was my life, with Lawrie’s help, and even from afar without any help from my parents, I was in a good place.

  And I’d hit a certain Zen because it occurred to me that Mickey had good kids, so did I, and even though Ash was shy, I figured Pippa would do what she could to pull her out of her shell, and both of my kids would love Cillian.

  It was all going to be okay.

  I couldn’t imagine in my wildest dreams how it would go wrong.

  But it did.

  Spectacularly.


  * * * * *

  The disaster didn’t start at twelve thirty-five when I heard the garage door go up, announcing my kids were there, and Mickey had not yet shown.

  In fact, it started swimmingly when my kids came in, saw their Uncle Lawrie and pounced on him with sheer glee.

  It took a turn for the worse when, with a mother’s keen eyes, I saw something festering under that glee that was troubling.

  It didn’t help matters that Pippa pretended it wasn’t there, and after turning from Lawrie and giving me her hug and kiss and happy Thanksgiving, she just said, “Gonna go dump my purse and jacket in my room and I’m all yours, Mom.”

  Auden, however, didn’t pretend and when he hugged me he said in my ear, “We’ll talk after Mickey leaves. Is that okay?”

  It would have to be.

  I nodded and he went off to get rid of his own jacket.

  The kids were just in their rooms when the doorbell rang.

  I was a bit jittery but I was okay. The house smelled great. Dinner was under control. The table looked beautiful laid with my fabulous stoneware, a low harvest-colored floral arrangement with candles in the middle that spread side to side at least three feet. The kids were safe from whatever was happening with their dad and they were with me. My brother was there, and even in the unlikely event things started to go awry, he’d guide them back and he’d have help. Mickey would make sure to do that too.

  I would too.

  Kids were resilient. Kids were better with change than grownups.

  And all had been going so well, moving straight toward happy, that I knew in my heart it was all going to be great.

  So I moved to the door quickly, opened it and smiled huge at the Donovan family.

  “Happy Thanksgiving!” I cried.

  Mickey gave me a grin that his kids reciprocated.

  I gave out hugs and also gave Mickey a swift kiss, doing this at the same time ushering them in.

  I closed the door and Lawr was there.

  “Right, take off your jackets as I start introductions,” I ordered. “Mickey, Cillian, Ash, this is my big brother, Lawr Hathaway. Lawr, meet the Donovan family.”

  Lawr was taking coats, shaking hands and exchanging nice-to-meet-yous at the same time explaining to a curious Cillian what kind of name “Lawr” was when it happened.

  Lawr and Mickey had just started greeting each other. I was smiling at it, my two best (adult) guys in the whole world shaking hands, then I saw Aisling bump into her father.

  My eyes went to her and my head jerked at the look on her face.

  The Donovans had come looking dapper in the way they would do it for a family Thanksgiving.

  Mickey was in a nice sweater and jeans. Cillian had on a nice long-sleeved shirt and jeans.

  As for Ash, she’d been quiet, as usual, but open. Her hair was gleaming, beautiful and clean and it even looked like she curled it. She had on a pretty tan skirt and a nice sweater in a soft pink, both fit her figure, pronouncing the curves she had in a lovely way, and she had on a great pair of boots. She’d also put on a hint of makeup.

  Upon arrival, she’d seemed okay. Better than okay.

  Now, suddenly, she seemed pale and wary and even afraid.

  “Ash?” I called and her eyes darted to me.

  “I thought her name was Olympia,” she whispered bafflingly.

  “I’m sorry, blossom?” I asked.

  “Her name is Pippa,” she told me.

  I looked over my shoulder and saw Auden and Pippa there. They were hanging back, awaiting their time to come forward for introductions.

  Auden appeared curious and welcoming.

  Pippa looked much the same as Aisling except pale and…

  Guilty.

  “Pip?” I called uncertainly.

  “Pippa?”

  This was fairly shrieked by Cillian.

  My eyes whipped back to him to see him glaring with supreme malevolence at Pippa.

  And my mouth dropped open when he pointed an incensed finger at her aggressively and shouted, “You suck!”

  “Cillian,” Mickey growled, moving to his son to put his hand on his shoulder.

  Cillian snapped his head back to look at his dad. “She sucks! She’s mean! She and her stupid friends say crap to Ash.” He looked back to Pippa as my heart stopped beating. “You’re a stinking, ugly, loser bully.”

  Oh no.

  No!

  “That is uncool,” Auden said low, moving closer to his sister and slightly in front of her.

  “It’s true!” Cillian yelled at Auden. “I saw it! Twice!” He jerked his head back to look at his dad. “Ash won’t let me say anything. She doesn’t want you worrying.”

  I looked to Pippa and my stomach twisted so much I thought I’d be sick.

  “Dad, can I go home?” I heard Aisling ask her father.

  “Please tell me this isn’t true,” I said to my daughter.

  “It is. She’s the worst. She’s a freaking mean girl,” Cillian answered for Pippa.

  I didn’t take my eyes off my daughter. “Pippa, honey, answer me.”

  She looked wild-eyed and about to bolt.

  But knowing there was nowhere to go, those eyes came to me and she whispered in a horrible voice, “You didn’t tell us their names. You just called them Mickey’s kids. I didn’t know it was Ash Donovan that was coming. There are three Donovans in school. You didn’t even say she was in the same grade as me.”

  “Yeah.” I heard Cillian say and felt him move, knowing with the way his movement was curtailed that Mickey pulled him back. But that didn’t stop him from talking. “I bet you wouldn’t like that. Fat, ugly, Ash Donovan coming over to your house for Thanksgiving.”

  My stomach twisted again. Viciously.

  “Pippa—” I began.

  “You don’t know,” Cillian stated, it was an accusation and it was directed to Pippa. “You don’t know how my sister has to hang with me all the time when Mom and Dad are working. How she has to make us dinner. You don’t know how our mom is a big, fat drunk and Ash’s always there to take care of me. You don’t know when you’re mean to her and make her feel like garbage how totally awesome she is.”

  Oh God.

  The room went even more tense and I saw my daughter’s face blanch further and my son wince.

  “Cill,” Mickey murmured.

  Auden moved more in front of his sister and suggested to me, “Maybe we can talk somewhere else, just you and Pippa and me?”

  I noted my son’s movements.

  But my attention didn’t stray from my daughter.

  “Have you been saying those things to Aisling?” I asked.

  “Mom—” she started, her face a horrible thing for a mother to see.

  “Answer me!” I shrieked.

  She quailed and her brother pulled her behind his back.

  “Don’t lose it, Mom,” he snapped at me.

  “Auden, you are not in this,” I snapped back and gave my attention to Olympia again. “Have you been cruel to kids at school?”

  “Polly’s the one who says stuff,” she defended lamely.

  “That doesn’t stop you from laughing,” Cillian put in.

  “Son, enough from you,” Mickey growled.

  “You laugh?” I asked my daughter.

  “I…it’s…”

  She said no more.

  “It’s what?” I hissed.

  “Mom, can we talk somewhere else?” Auden bit out.

  “Absolutely not,” I clipped then back to my daughter. “I cannot believe this. I didn’t raise a mean girl.”

  Pippa, not good with confrontation and on the spot in a very bad way, didn’t retreat.

  She came out guns a’blazing.

  “Oh yeah you did,” she retorted angrily. “All the stuff you did to Martine?”

  My body started burning and I instantly leaned back, asking sarcastically, “So, she stole your homework out of your locker and passed it off as hers?”

  “Mom—
” Auden began.

  “No,” Pippa snapped.

  I kept with the sarcasm. “Oh, so she stole your boyfriend. Is that it?”

  She leaned angrily around her brother toward me. “Don’t pretend you don’t understand what I’m saying.”

  “So sweet, pretty, quiet Ash destroyed your world? Knowingly and willfully participated in behavior that meant you lost everything. The man you’d loved for two decades. The home you’d made together for your children. The future you were looking forward to. Is that what happened?” I asked,

  “Please, Mom—” Auden tried again.

  “You know it isn’t,” Pippa spat.

  “Your father and stepmother did that to me,” I retorted. “If your father found someone else he loved, after committing his love to me, that was not okay. But there was a way to go about handling that. How he did it was not that way. I reacted and they had consequences, frankly, that they deserved. I shouldn’t have allowed you children to see that but that’s the only thing I did wrong. The rest, they bought that. They bought it. You betray someone, you have no choice but to live with the beast your betrayal created. What you’re doing to Ash, she didn’t buy that.”

  “Uncle Lawrie,” Auden beseeched.

  “Your sister did this, pal, it is not good. So she also answers for it,” Lawrie said firmly and calmly, but there was disappointment in his voice.

  Auden’s face set.

  “This is not my girl,” I stated, my eyes never leaving my daughter.

  “I had to move from my school. I had to find friends. Polly’s popular and she’s nice to me,” she returned, strangely not blaming me for them having to move but I didn’t have a mind to that.

  “Polly is totally a bitch.” I whirled at Aisling entering the conversation. Surprisingly, she wasn’t done speaking. “Everyone knows it. And to be a friend, you have to be a bitch too. And she’s not popular. She’s feared.”

  I whirled back to my daughter, raising my brows. “Is that what you want? Do you want to be feared?”

  “Mom, come on. Lay off,” Auden ground out.

  “Polly’s history,” I declared.

  “Mom!” Pippa shouted.

  “My girl does not hang with mean girls,” I informed her.

  “Mom, goddammit, lay off,” Auden clipped.

  My gaze shot to him. “Language,” I snapped.

  “You’re losing it,” he returned.

 

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